walking the path so many paced a million times

Deimos

“Patience might be a good place to start,” permitting a light laugh, as he settled down, closer to the shrine and away from Darkeye’s metallic endeavors, along one of the many stones. Belial brushed against his knees, and Zuriel remained aloft, poised either for a threat or some manner of alarm, head high, indulgent and bowing to no one. "It took a long time for me to hear from any of the gods. And while I was frustrated, I certainly was not demanding.” Because he’d been taught, very quickly, that he didn’t deserve much of anything. “And some may still not want to answer. But pressing them, when they have far more power than yourself, is a dangerous game.” And they were not Darkeye’s deities; he couldn’t treat them the same.

Meandering away from that subject, and twining the ropes together absentmindedly, he carefully broached and breeched another. “What happened with Remi?”

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight