Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
“Luck might have had a good hand in it. Or decent riders.” His own son(s) included, though Deimos had made sure to place Erebos on a pony that wouldn’t have taken advantage, or be seen still gallivanting through the square. He inclined his head with an amused tilt, and snorted as Colt made herself at home in the sled. Belial opted to not give or grant her an inch of room, feet deliberately stretched and placed outward, his claims made. Until something distracted him.Which happened to be the ningo suddenly above – chirping and hooting loudly as they traversed along the grounds. Within an instant the peryton was soaring, hooting after the fat birds, and the Sword left the deer to his own devices, and likely eventual slaughter, as they turned another corner to make the first delivery.
Stopping the sled, he maneuvered towards the open portions of the vessel, gathering an already bundled and strung together portion of wood – long enough to keep the family going for a few days, before the next round of shipments. Listening all the while, to merits of the desert and its recent upgrades, he recalled those days where Halo had no skyport to speak of either – locked away for the winter, away from the notions of any other region. “What sort of living arrangements?” There could be a whole range to support individuals seeking to congregate there, and he wouldn’t be remiss to think of Ru striving to advance her way through the dunes.
