Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Deimos arrived at the lodge after a morning shared between his home and the Barracks; outfitting the new nursery and instructing soldiers had become another regular routine, his thoughts refusing to echo over the complexities of Noah’s request – how seasons before he’d clenched his jaw over the parameters, and here they were, putting one at the man’s house. How many pilgrimages would some be making to the roots of the hunting capacity – and how comfortable would that be for everyone?Not giving it voice, he waved towards Noah as he shifted from eagle to human, tilting, then lowering his head in a modest bow when he saw Flora – wholly unexpected but not unpleasant. “Flora, good to see you – Erebos has not stopped raving about your generosity,” to which he wrinkled his nose; amused but grateful nonetheless. While Zuriel would have safeguarded him on his candy shop spree, the unicorn didn’t have the capability of extending further treats and indulgences, unlike newfound favorite Torchline leaders. "Thank you,” he granted a slight wink and a juvenile grin, before his attention had to meander back to the task at hand, gaze flickering to the Sentinel. “Where do you want us to start?”
