Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Deimos thought Danta would’ve preferred a whole litany of ridiculous things at his stony statue, but then again, since he wouldn’t truly be there, perhaps it didn’t matter. He laughed just the same, snorting amidst their darker bouts of humor. “Glad to hear,” that Halo had gone up in some aspirations – though maybe never enough to have the world swarm there (something he preferred; their fortified walls and snow up there below the mountains, left mostly alone). Nodding along at the assertions, he knew he’d need to be heading out soon too. “Nice to see you, regardless,” working on his honesty and friendships, even if it came with a shrug of his shoulders and another low, rumbling chuckle. It felt strange not to be hastening off fortunes or luck or to ensure heed in the traces of so many other things, so instead he extended a wave, beginning to call Belial back so they could venture home as well. “Take care.”
[FIN]
