everything I let go
The mere thought of being quiet rarely crossed Erebos’ mind; from sunup to sundown, his tolerance for roaming words and loud affectations of any sort of display was quite clear throughout Halo. He ran off energy in the Barracks. He bellowed along Snowcloak’s paths. He instigated and agitated the companions throughout the house until all of them were wound and set outside to continue their chasing of one another. The semblance of silence was a difficult thing to muster, and he immediately narrowed his eyes in thought, wondering if it was a trick of his father. Deimos was known for his ability to be stoic and solemn and hushed, despite the way he settled into a room. Such was easily done for the Sword, but not for the little blade he and Evie had brought forth into the world.
“Fiiiine,” came on a drawled complaint, and he thought about petulantly wrapping his arms in front of his chest and giving off a pout. Neither of his parents had ever been affected by such antics though, and it probably wouldn’t work today either. One had to wonder if they’d ever tried it on their own ancestry, and thus far it just hadn’t bothered anyone and it ceased with each tangent of the bloodline. Shrugging instead, he started walking alongside, trying to imitate quietude, when the response to his earlier statement came, and he was forced to extend the worries and apprehensions that had been meandering through him instead. His nose wrinkled at the fair play, as if he hadn’t seen it coming.
“Well, like. What am I going to have to do? I can’t fight very good yet,” though he’d been practicing when he could catch his father’s eye as he made his rounds, or when one of the other soldiers gave him a passing notation. “And I don’t want to change diapers.” That sounded horrendous.
“Fiiiine,” came on a drawled complaint, and he thought about petulantly wrapping his arms in front of his chest and giving off a pout. Neither of his parents had ever been affected by such antics though, and it probably wouldn’t work today either. One had to wonder if they’d ever tried it on their own ancestry, and thus far it just hadn’t bothered anyone and it ceased with each tangent of the bloodline. Shrugging instead, he started walking alongside, trying to imitate quietude, when the response to his earlier statement came, and he was forced to extend the worries and apprehensions that had been meandering through him instead. His nose wrinkled at the fair play, as if he hadn’t seen it coming.
“Well, like. What am I going to have to do? I can’t fight very good yet,” though he’d been practicing when he could catch his father’s eye as he made his rounds, or when one of the other soldiers gave him a passing notation. “And I don’t want to change diapers.” That sounded horrendous.
Erebos
has claw marks on it
