DEIMOS
The debris hurled out, everything cleaned up accordingly, the General had been set towards coming back and constructing tables. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, either because of his distinctive mass, rotted timber, or a combination of both, then his left foot went careening down through the floorboards. He blinked in rapid surprise, the uneven keel of his figure mauled and mired, before devolving into some rough, rumble of laughter. The whole notion was utterly ridiculous as he dislodged himself, indifferent towards scratched skin and ripped fabric (just one of the many), shaking his head, but carefully placing his heel on each floorboard thereafter, testing their mettle, their grit, their persistence. So instead of marching directly to making the tables, he went to replace the rotted plank, nailing portions of wood over the hole, and smoothing it out so it went along evenly with the rest of the flooring. Snorting, he then set about to his initial task, grabbing hold of more timber to manifest the required counters.
--
Deimos attempts to repair the hole in the floor, then goes towards making some tables.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
