Deimos
A wooden training sword could only be so beneficial, and though his smile was small in response, at least the armament was something. “You encountered an unfortunate learning curve.” That many had discerned along the way, through their own curses, blunders, misgivings, and experiences – and despite the education Deimos had sought to instill, he also couldn’t render Darkeye’s choices for him. It could've been far, far worse, but the General didn't press into that wake.
As for demanding, the arch of his brow rose, slowly, with a snort to follow. “Perhaps that is your perception, but the deities will have another.” One already had, and the results were plain to see. “If you want their respect, you have to grant some in return.” Maybe the Voice hadn’t been the best place to start, considering the implications layered and lacquered in between, and the non-answers he’d received. “What you may consider being direct, a god might see as an accusation.”
As for demanding, the arch of his brow rose, slowly, with a snort to follow. “Perhaps that is your perception, but the deities will have another.” One already had, and the results were plain to see. “If you want their respect, you have to grant some in return.” Maybe the Voice hadn’t been the best place to start, considering the implications layered and lacquered in between, and the non-answers he’d received. “What you may consider being direct, a god might see as an accusation.”
you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight
all venom and fistfight
