Deimos
The Sword was ever the pragmatic; not accustomed to flights of fancy or folly – a strategist through and through. Calculating, considering, before making those motions, those movements, in multiple venues of life. This one was no different, and so he sighed, unfurling a long, slow breath from his chest. “From what I recall about Maea, she was a devoted Ludo follower.” Hence, would have known better. Would have understood every notion, every semblance, of what she was facing now. Not dissimilar to Kiada in a way; though the Harpy had come back to them based on her family, her friends, and Chuy. If Maea had come back for Sunjata…his nose wrinkled at the thought of the man. “And would have comprehended the choice she was making.” She’d been with Mort, supposedly, and had that death, that eternal rest, before making her way towards the Voice. Maybe he was missing something here. “Was she deceived?”
Eyes glancing downward, studying a particular stone in the obsidian floor, then resting his gaze on Zuriel’s cloven hooves, he pondered further. “I have spoken to Ludo before. It can be fair, depending on how you discuss things.” As in, not a demanding approach.
But then he shook his head about the inquiries of the other Ascended. “Nate too.” He could be lumped together with the rest of the barbaric individuals.
Eyes glancing downward, studying a particular stone in the obsidian floor, then resting his gaze on Zuriel’s cloven hooves, he pondered further. “I have spoken to Ludo before. It can be fair, depending on how you discuss things.” As in, not a demanding approach.
But then he shook his head about the inquiries of the other Ascended. “Nate too.” He could be lumped together with the rest of the barbaric individuals.
you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight
all venom and fistfight
