[o] [SE] One good turn

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame With the letter secured, he granted Erebos a section of the plum. The youth grabbed it wholeheartedly, and without much preamble, stuck it in his mouth. The turn of expressions was amusing, but when it was eaten successfully, he let out of an eager squeal, hand extended for more. Snorting again, he ate a bite for himself, before granting another tiny sanction for the child. He listened to her brief introductions, nodding along. “Jobs are important.” Necessary, really, for Halo to continue running amidst its small citizenship and culture. Self-sufficient and hardy, this world had secured itself as a placeholder for the determined – especially lately, with so many portions going awry. “What will you be doing?” After munching down on his next section of fruit, Erebos tilted his head as well, easily discernable as a trait of his father’s passed along. But far more sociable, he wiggled his fingers in return, giggling all the while. In confirmation of her own estimation, he nodded again. “Yes. This is Erebos.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace