[Training] spikey snow castles

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame “Right,” came on a general accord; the smile chiseled and remaining for the mare; one of the few who stayed and never strayed. Unaware of Oliver’s inklings towards his mental health, the Sword simply stood in his wake, nodding in agreement. Outsiders, Outlanders, for eternity, no matter how long they lived, breathed, and immersed themselves into the climates, into the lands, into the folds of assimilation. He normally just bowed his head at their discretions, listened to their information, and carried on – forging pathways to assist as best he could. But then there appeared to be naught else; the protections adhered, the castle salvaged and shielded for another day. He did manage a laugh at Oliver’s implication that Deimos didn’t leave the glacial quarters. “You are welcome. And I travel.” It wasn’t a promise, a conviction, or a vow, but some measure of reassurance. “Take care, Oliver.” And with that, companion and General did what they so often strived for, and carried onward, along the Citadel’s vestiges. {FIN} master of nothing place; of recoil and grace