Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
Whether or not she was displeased with the arrangement or lack of information didn’t really bother him; content in his reticent countenance, in the mutual exchange, in defiance and sedition. She could have her sneers – he gave no reaction to it, as stony as the rest of the ramparts and cliffs refusing to bow to the water down below. He arched his brow, then nodded at her indication – those obviously not granting more without his own sagacity fostered back. His eyes watched the ministrations of her spear; if she intended to look threatening, he wasn’t bothered. Instead his mind reeled to the possibilities of stories, of customs, of legends, of old gods embedded within their tomes. “There are rumored to be Merfolk.” His chin jutted out towards the ocean again, deep below its fathoms; perhaps the Fae would find some sort of comfort in another realm of people isolated or distant.
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
