half-sliced pines

// disarm you with a smile //

Even if it didn’t come to fruition, Glas wasn’t one to make a fuss about it. Simply having an option to reach out and have someone to talk to on occasion was enough – after all, Glas never really had friends. Too set in his own ways to be adventurous and outgoing as he’d noticed many of the people in Halo his age were. So sending letters was easier, and writing had always been a favorite way for the crafter to communicate, even if he was trying to be better about it now.

Which is why he’s not writing out his responses so far. Forcing himself to answer Deimos as himself, regardless of the stutter that plagued him as he points out the portions of the blueprints and the sign’s design, of how the one merchant’s worries would be alleviated with a little bit of volunteer work.

He’s surprised to hear Deimos’ offer, though, and initially he looks like he’d say no to it, but given his stutter he’s prone to thinking about things before he says them, and all the notions of his refusal begin to fall apart with the crafters smile that graces his face, crooked and small but still there. “If you’re n-not too busy. I’d like th-that.” He doesn’t want to impose, of course.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //