Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
The familiar voice made the Sword turn away from a set of necklaces (that he scoffed at internally; he could easily make something better for Evie entirely on his own), and back towards the Flood some distance away. Erebos beat him to the punch however, with an amiable wave and a jubilant ”Hi!" wholly encompassed by the innocence and joviality of toddlers. Deimos could only arch his brow and shake his head, long strides taking him closer to the expanse so they wouldn’t be yelling at each other over the scattering of merchants and passersby. “Nothing yet,” on either count currently, though he could take away ideas for the Evergreen – though even that was a bit minimal today. Maneuvering the infant gently so Erebos was still at ease along his shoulders, listening to his son giggle, he snorted, then deviated the attention back to Sunjata, while Zuriel snagged at branches nearby. “Thought I would take an opportunity when I had one.” Figuring the other leader would understand, given all of them being in similar circumstances. “You find anything?”
