DEIMOS
we've all got blood on our hands
something somewhere had to die
so we could stay alive
Mind full of machinations and calculations, recording one notion after another. Nephele. Met with Amalia before LongNight. Perhaps she’d been the one to deliver news about their perished leader, perhaps the Shield and her team had delivered Safrin’s books to her. Regardless, he saved the information to parse through and ponder over later, and focused his attention on the following statement.Questions for you, regarding the Ascended.
Here he immediately wanted to balk and steer clear, lift back into the skies, evade anything and everything orienting around those feral, fatal mistakes he’d made. His jaw clenched and feathered, the beast stifling a long sigh through his chest, weighing out the probabilities of this interaction going smoothly. A span of moments tempted him to take flight, forgo and forget – but the press of other nuances, of evidence of boxes and body parts, of this Nate character being wounded by a Fae, of too many other things taking shape, scraped harder. Maybe he’d be able to receive sagacity in return.
The Sword accepted the invitation with a nod, lengthy strides once more taking shape along the sands, the piercing slate of his gaze riveting back to hers. “What questions do you have?”
