Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Father and son waited while Koa seemed to find whatever he misplaced; both construed with confused expressions, though Erebos didn’t last very long and immediately sat down to play about in the snow. With his gaze resting on his son, then the Dragoon, Deimos couldn’t help but snort at the admission. “Ah, the guild business?” Taking the journal over though, he found far more detailed notes than he’d ever expected – Safrin’s words paired with drawings, diagrams, and notations, eyes widening as he read further.“I did not realize their house was so extensive.” His jaw clenched briefly, finger pinpointing on the level they’d be heading towards next. Perhaps they should’ve guessed, based on how quickly they’d taken over – and through dreams that still hadn’t embedded as much as a revelation as the here and now. “Seems our next yard work endeavor will be here then,” at the shape of the cavern, at the pinnacles of death riddled and rankled monstrosities. “Thank you for all of this. Do you mind if I copy it over?” That way there’d be multitudes, and he’d be able to distribute to allies.
As far as invitations to said stately mansion, the Sword tilted his head. “We have been thinking about sending teams – it would likely be best to do so with a flower and a similar group.” His eyes narrowed, before watching Erebos throw snow everywhere down by his feet. “Do you have something effective for the pests?”
