[se] chaos is all they know

Deimos the Reaper master of nothing place, of recoil and grace She’d heard of it, but then seemingly nothing more extended – no inquiries, no questions, no thoughts, and the ruminations of warnings, of memories, of explanations died on his tongue. Perhaps she’d already been given adequate enough information, had been told the customs, and already knew what to expect (he wished they had; on the second time around, understood the true weight of folly and preparation). So Deimos permitted the subject to drop, falling silent as he collected another foundation of grasses, reeds, and cattails, figuring each plant would be formidable enough to be woven, the flowers twisted through. With the further taunting, something familiar, something comfortable, the brooding removed for an instant as she seemed to be striving for more compliments, he snorted. A very low rumble of laughter, as if dulled from lack of use, or stifled through his throat, ensuing along the bond. Teasing, goading, provocations, back to boyish mischief and conclusions, a preference to the brooding enamel in his bones, sinuously choosing to unwind in those parameters for the moment. If you do not believe yourself competent, I can find another. An arched brow for the challenge in the interim, fed upon devilish contortions and recoil, before laying the token objects down upon the stone, studying the materials. Flowers now. They’d snagged enough of the others for a start to wielding. But then the satisfaction of her acceptance, a rare moment of seriousness, descended, and the Sword nodded; mustered the best smile a hound could implement. He did trust her, otherwise the offer wouldn’t have been there – because Aisha had been competent from the very beginning, willing to grow, eager to put in the time, the effort, and that made all the difference from others who came, who sought out training and skills, but never readily applied themselves. You deserve it he extended, then proceeded to rampage back through bulrushes, nodding towards Zuriel as he passed by her grazing spot. If you want, you can take over the training for the season. A pause as he selected some ivory florets, grabbing hold of the stem and roots, dragging it out of the earth by his teeth. Amalia and I will be in Torchline for our honeymoon. And a much needed break, mentally and physically, trying to find a way to pierce through the latest trauma and march on.

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