Deimos
Eventually placing the parchment aside as Sunjata came in, and chose a chair, the Sword tilted his head, taking in the information. Revivify feathers certainly weren’t an ordinary thing to come by, and explained a multitude that none of his soldiers had been privy, nor even close to remarking upon. “I see. Do we know where to obtain more?” Or had it been a lucky provision? Ronin, after all, despite his many accolades and capabilities, couldn’t be everywhere all at once.
And given how things had been going recently, they needed all the opportunities they could snag.
The serendipitous, and far more fortunate, thresholds of Sunjata’s happenstance with Remi explained more, and Deimos leaned back further in his chair, unfurling a long sigh. “I do not. I have been trying to snag as much information as I can.” Finding Sohalia, bloody in the snow, hastening to the wall to peer with the rest of his citizens and constituents; striving to absolve her failure – Zavien, dead upon arrival. “We have been working out our own plans to cleanse the Tundra,” gesturing the papers, piled neatly on his desk, to note they hadn’t been idle. “And while their support has been appreciated,” and understandable (given how many times Halo citizens had helped), he grimaced, because it’d been the wrong time; Deepfrost the harshest season for their region. “I was not informed, nor sent anyone out there.” A venture taken upon themselves. “Had I known, I would have advised against it.” They'd sent out multitudes of warnings to their own citizens about the Tundra - not to cross, not to wander, not to think about meandering out there.
Rubbing at his jaw, and shaking his head, he tapped his charcoal against the grains of wood, striving to abate the restlessness creeping up again. “Zuriel healed Sohalia, and I will pay a visit to Zavien. Do you know of anything else?” Given that the Flood had been far closer to the aftermath’s action.
And given how things had been going recently, they needed all the opportunities they could snag.
The serendipitous, and far more fortunate, thresholds of Sunjata’s happenstance with Remi explained more, and Deimos leaned back further in his chair, unfurling a long sigh. “I do not. I have been trying to snag as much information as I can.” Finding Sohalia, bloody in the snow, hastening to the wall to peer with the rest of his citizens and constituents; striving to absolve her failure – Zavien, dead upon arrival. “We have been working out our own plans to cleanse the Tundra,” gesturing the papers, piled neatly on his desk, to note they hadn’t been idle. “And while their support has been appreciated,” and understandable (given how many times Halo citizens had helped), he grimaced, because it’d been the wrong time; Deepfrost the harshest season for their region. “I was not informed, nor sent anyone out there.” A venture taken upon themselves. “Had I known, I would have advised against it.” They'd sent out multitudes of warnings to their own citizens about the Tundra - not to cross, not to wander, not to think about meandering out there.
Rubbing at his jaw, and shaking his head, he tapped his charcoal against the grains of wood, striving to abate the restlessness creeping up again. “Zuriel healed Sohalia, and I will pay a visit to Zavien. Do you know of anything else?” Given that the Flood had been far closer to the aftermath’s action.
we exhume our enemy's bones
we are battling, hungry beasts
we are battling, hungry beasts
