The youth’s excitement practically pervaded through his system, all wild energy and jubilation at the mere thought of festivities. Wholly unaware that he’d been an audience member to his father’s tournament win, albeit newborn and mostly unconscious, this was his first opportunity, besides mayhem in Halo, to be a part of such fun and glee.
“What are those?” he’d point, to a variety of objects, finger veering sharply to another subject before Deimos would even have the chance to explain. “And that!” Then it was the intoxicating aroma of fair-like foods, bristling through his nose, like a moth to a flame; the sweetened smell of constant sugar, calling cards to children the world over.
Before he could beeline anywhere towards it though, there was the matter of the egg. “Oh yeah!” Digging into his pocket, he snagged at the hand painted arrangement, and followed his father over towards the kiosk, hopeful that something could be traded or delved into.
--
Erebos found his egg here: no sugarcoating it
“What are those?” he’d point, to a variety of objects, finger veering sharply to another subject before Deimos would even have the chance to explain. “And that!” Then it was the intoxicating aroma of fair-like foods, bristling through his nose, like a moth to a flame; the sweetened smell of constant sugar, calling cards to children the world over.
Before he could beeline anywhere towards it though, there was the matter of the egg. “Oh yeah!” Digging into his pocket, he snagged at the hand painted arrangement, and followed his father over towards the kiosk, hopeful that something could be traded or delved into.
--
Erebos found his egg here: no sugarcoating it
erebos
and then we dream so much
