you can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly
He glanced down, taking her in with his usual arched brow, intending to circumvent the spelled-out notions. “Are you not official when lecturing about plants? Or healing?” Perhaps not the same as specifying war games, but certainly the hows, the whys, and the importance of their efforts, the reasons behind some manner of fauna, and mending. His gaze turned away for a moment, concentrating on the skillet, rotating it once or twice so the oil’s heat was dispersed throughout.
Pretending not to be put out by the sudden loss of closeness, but eyes on the boiling pot of water nearby, he nodded. “Likely going to take some effort and work, but it would be a beneficial change.” Citizens no longer under the mercy of the Voice and her portal, or cast out in isolation during the bitter Deepfrost. They had already had multitudes more of independence with the greenhouse, but with enhanced mobility, they might be able to gain greater platitudes.
But the piercing stare flickered back and forth, from the pan to her, noticing the tip of her ears blending in amongst the other crimson locks. “And painting. And mischief.” As partly a reminder, and because something felt like he’d stepped in amongst a portion he shouldn’t have.
So maybe the last inquiry took him by surprise – or shame, because he didn’t have a good answer for her. The Sword’s voice dulled to a muted rumble, above a whisper, but brows furrowed, the uncertainty curling along shoulders that routinely bore weights of a kingdom. “I have not had time to think about that. It seems to always be about survival here.” Yearning and craving to protect, to shield, to shelter; and with the way the horizon loomed and dared, he couldn’t be certain about the future. “Wanted to ensure Halo was adequately defended and safe. Its citizens too.” That’s all he’d had for the longest time. “Be certain everyone was stronger. Could collaborate.” And never desiring anything for himself – save for their persistence. "Maybe after the war it will be easier. Could explore more. What about you?"
Pretending not to be put out by the sudden loss of closeness, but eyes on the boiling pot of water nearby, he nodded. “Likely going to take some effort and work, but it would be a beneficial change.” Citizens no longer under the mercy of the Voice and her portal, or cast out in isolation during the bitter Deepfrost. They had already had multitudes more of independence with the greenhouse, but with enhanced mobility, they might be able to gain greater platitudes.
But the piercing stare flickered back and forth, from the pan to her, noticing the tip of her ears blending in amongst the other crimson locks. “And painting. And mischief.” As partly a reminder, and because something felt like he’d stepped in amongst a portion he shouldn’t have.
So maybe the last inquiry took him by surprise – or shame, because he didn’t have a good answer for her. The Sword’s voice dulled to a muted rumble, above a whisper, but brows furrowed, the uncertainty curling along shoulders that routinely bore weights of a kingdom. “I have not had time to think about that. It seems to always be about survival here.” Yearning and craving to protect, to shield, to shelter; and with the way the horizon loomed and dared, he couldn’t be certain about the future. “Wanted to ensure Halo was adequately defended and safe. Its citizens too.” That’s all he’d had for the longest time. “Be certain everyone was stronger. Could collaborate.” And never desiring anything for himself – save for their persistence. "Maybe after the war it will be easier. Could explore more. What about you?"
DEIMOS
