[SE] all is not frost

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Not expecting to hold the cub, Deimos snorted, but took up the offer with gentle aplomb. Given his experience with Micah, Evie’s own cub, and Erebos, despite his massive physique and demeanor, he gently clutched the curious creature directly into his arms, permitting her to curl upwards along his shoulder or there in the breadth of his chest. Belial made some noises below about it, but the Sword ignored him, brushing his hands against the leopard’s ears, should she be inclined for a scratch. “You are welcome,” he noted with another boyish grin, before the weight of yesteryears flickered back across his face. Momentarily distracted from his task, his eyes went from the cub to the unicorn hovering nearby, her ear flickering slightly towards him, as if waiting to hear how he told the story. “I took the blade I had and went to slay it. Was not easy by any means and nearly lost my arm for the efforts.” Stripped down, degloved, it had been a hazardous adventure, but he’d always repeat it for the end results. Had for the whole shape of his life in Caido – for everyone else in its vicinity. “Zuriel took pity on me and healed it. Then decided to stay. Maybe she thought I would not manage without her.” Which, in some parts, had been true. There’d been days and months and seasons where, had she not been in his life, he would’ve been long gone. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace