// too many war wounds and not enough wars //
At first the wildfire will bend to Deimos's will, of course, reducing to a smoulder and a few sad embers. Before it snuffs out entirely, though - and likely coinciding with the exceedingly powerful hybrid releasing his control over the element - it roars back to life again, forming a warbling and fiendish little grin before racing away to eat up some more of the dry twigs and grasses.
"Hallo, Deimos." Danta's grin matches that of the fire he'd tugged from the other man's grip, the Maverick perched in the bough of a tree a few feet above the Sword. It's no use asking what he's doing there in the Greatwood let alone in the Eyes of Vi - as a crow Danta tends to follow the thermals and the whims of his shift, and so here he is on a brief jaunt for the afternoon. And evidently, he's making it his bestest friend's problem.
"They are everywhere you know," he says of the fires, gesturing to a haze of smoke hanging in the air. "In the Grounds too. I think it's the season." And not at all because someone - you, Danta - keeps helping the fire along rather than snuffing it out.
"Hallo, Deimos." Danta's grin matches that of the fire he'd tugged from the other man's grip, the Maverick perched in the bough of a tree a few feet above the Sword. It's no use asking what he's doing there in the Greatwood let alone in the Eyes of Vi - as a crow Danta tends to follow the thermals and the whims of his shift, and so here he is on a brief jaunt for the afternoon. And evidently, he's making it his bestest friend's problem.
"They are everywhere you know," he says of the fires, gesturing to a haze of smoke hanging in the air. "In the Grounds too. I think it's the season." And not at all because someone - you, Danta - keeps helping the fire along rather than snuffing it out.
Dantalion
// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
