Deimos
Zuriel was incredibly speculative about the luxere – both noble creatures of the forest, enamored and intrigued by the steady glow of his antlers. She had half a mind to place her lips along the otherworldly spikes just to see what they felt like, but some rumble of disapproval shot through their bond. She mentally eyerolled, sneered at the Sword, and then pushed against the smaller stag’s shoulders, before maneuvering her way into Kiada’s scratches, leaning, leaning, leaning, imploring for more even as the humans interacted.
Deimos only inclined a brow towards his companion, before settling his gaze back upon Kiada, wandering towards the fire, shifting a few logs back into place. Auni’s presence was more than welcome, and while one hand tended to the flames, the other scratched over fur and ears, familiar and soft and reminders of better days, before stretches of upheaval, before destruction, before demolition of things they’d always held near and dear, close to their chests, away from storms and melees. But these events had known where to pierce, where to hurt, and though he’d long since pardoned her, she apparently hadn’t done so to herself. All he could ask for was what she’d already declared – on the mend, surging towards fixtures of the Harpy before pestilence and disease had rippled its way through her. “No need,” he proffered, hands free of the luxere to be raised in a beseeching faction. “You were already forgiven.”
That Auni had his bag was an interesting notion – not entirely misplaced, but snagged by the cheeky thing. “It is fine,” he murmured, snorting at the notion, tilting his head, fingers gently reaching for it to be returned. With surprise, however, the gilded deer seemed to have hoarded a multitude of things inside the sack, and his eyes widened a fraction, smile endeavoring to come back into play as little gifts were removed, displayed, and offered. Within his palms, he suddenly had a stick shaped like a person (where did he find such a thing, especially adorned with moss hair detailing?), and parchment, splashed and speckles with blue and white, fanciful, decorated. He sat upon the floor, descending from his previous crouch, to explore and investigate them with a more diligent air, the Cheshire grin embellished even as he had no idea what to do with the wares. “Thank you,” he uttered and rumbled to the companion, content with even being a notion, a thought, in the little beast’s mind. Then his gaze shifted back up to Kiada, a box extended in his direction, another reception of presents and bestowals he’d never expected. “You did not have to-“ he started, the devilish impulse to his lips waning a little into a stunned measure, accepting the offering into his lap, amongst the other accords.
His heart was touched and moved, thawing a little in the breadth and expanse of his chest, wistful and nostalgic as he glanced within, staring upon the bear claws (because it was likely known by now that he had a sweet tooth and frequently snagged Amalia’s pastries at any opportunity), the snowflakes pressed into their center causing the briefest of sighs. He swallowed down the choking, cloaking memories, shifting his stare back to her. “Thank you. You made these yourself?” There was a notion of pride instilled in the insinuation, respect and honor for her talents, for her capabilities.
Deimos only inclined a brow towards his companion, before settling his gaze back upon Kiada, wandering towards the fire, shifting a few logs back into place. Auni’s presence was more than welcome, and while one hand tended to the flames, the other scratched over fur and ears, familiar and soft and reminders of better days, before stretches of upheaval, before destruction, before demolition of things they’d always held near and dear, close to their chests, away from storms and melees. But these events had known where to pierce, where to hurt, and though he’d long since pardoned her, she apparently hadn’t done so to herself. All he could ask for was what she’d already declared – on the mend, surging towards fixtures of the Harpy before pestilence and disease had rippled its way through her. “No need,” he proffered, hands free of the luxere to be raised in a beseeching faction. “You were already forgiven.”
That Auni had his bag was an interesting notion – not entirely misplaced, but snagged by the cheeky thing. “It is fine,” he murmured, snorting at the notion, tilting his head, fingers gently reaching for it to be returned. With surprise, however, the gilded deer seemed to have hoarded a multitude of things inside the sack, and his eyes widened a fraction, smile endeavoring to come back into play as little gifts were removed, displayed, and offered. Within his palms, he suddenly had a stick shaped like a person (where did he find such a thing, especially adorned with moss hair detailing?), and parchment, splashed and speckles with blue and white, fanciful, decorated. He sat upon the floor, descending from his previous crouch, to explore and investigate them with a more diligent air, the Cheshire grin embellished even as he had no idea what to do with the wares. “Thank you,” he uttered and rumbled to the companion, content with even being a notion, a thought, in the little beast’s mind. Then his gaze shifted back up to Kiada, a box extended in his direction, another reception of presents and bestowals he’d never expected. “You did not have to-“ he started, the devilish impulse to his lips waning a little into a stunned measure, accepting the offering into his lap, amongst the other accords.
His heart was touched and moved, thawing a little in the breadth and expanse of his chest, wistful and nostalgic as he glanced within, staring upon the bear claws (because it was likely known by now that he had a sweet tooth and frequently snagged Amalia’s pastries at any opportunity), the snowflakes pressed into their center causing the briefest of sighs. He swallowed down the choking, cloaking memories, shifting his stare back to her. “Thank you. You made these yourself?” There was a notion of pride instilled in the insinuation, respect and honor for her talents, for her capabilities.
i rule the stars, not the other way around
