// object of desire //
The focus had taken much of Thorn’s brain power - enough that Deimos’ compliments feel a little belated as he watches the fragments of the target begin to fall away from the air shield he’d made around his body. Panting lightly, he swipes the back of his hand against his forehead, brushing the sweat against his shirt with a smile aimed at the Warden. “Thanks. It’s nice to get to switch it up now ’n then.” He admits a touch sheepishly.
As for a break? The courtesan latches onto it with a bright smile and a shake of his head to try something else. “Not at the moment that I can think of. Would kill for somethin’ to eat, though.” He admits, nose wrinkling a touch as he looks to Deimos for any kind of hope of food within the Barracks and if not, perhaps a recommendation. It’s been a little while since he’s been in the Citadel, after all.
As for a break? The courtesan latches onto it with a bright smile and a shake of his head to try something else. “Not at the moment that I can think of. Would kill for somethin’ to eat, though.” He admits, nose wrinkling a touch as he looks to Deimos for any kind of hope of food within the Barracks and if not, perhaps a recommendation. It’s been a little while since he’s been in the Citadel, after all.
THORN
