Deimos
you can be a comet tearing open the sky if you want
never say of course; never let them drain the river of your soul
Creatures of the north followed suit as he stamped the bells with images of Halo; ursur, jaws agape and mouths wide, for those that might appeal to the unyielding aspects of the world. Frost foxes for the gentler appeal, springing across a landscape of copper and tufts of snow, and several elementals, as if chasing something beyond thickets and copses of wood. He didn’t bother with any of their larger-than-life arachnids – he couldn’t fathom many wanting to claim such trinkets for their own. The Sword chanced a glance at the ones orchestrated and created by Asta, smiling slightly at the evergreens.never say of course; never let them drain the river of your soul
Deimos didn’t have centuries on the Ancient though, and could only vaguely tilt his head at the thoughts of no auroras. “Much like this,” he offered by way of contorting them along the next bell in his hands – measuring the colors and hues into the surface of the vestiges so they would bleed and wind through – greens, blues, purples, and on the other side, matching it with reds and oranges to make the twist and turn of them realistic.
At his offer though, and Asta’s subsequent response, he shrugged his shoulders. How many times had he simply created and contorted because it was necessary? Or individuals were friends and allies? It was only every so often anyone bestowed something of value to him; he’d had the same discussion with Colt. “Not many do,” he gave with a hint of amusement, his nose wrinkling. “But there are other things besides items. I prefer information, should you ever hear of interesting things.” Threats. Furtive traces. If something was looming large and aggressive all over again – not unlike the vast warnings he’d extended to others, on behalf of Safrin, when it had come to the Family’s imminent arrival.
