Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Precision-lined snowballs and matching movements ensured his laughter was damned to echo and reverberate along the outer lining of the Academy’s walls. It might have engulfed to one resounding from deep in his chest, had there been more time, but Ru was there within an instant – and Deimos didn’t say he was relieved to see her not lost amidst doldrums, but it was clear in his ensuing antics. The insult scarcely bothered him, enough to push a self-deprecating jibe and volley her way. “But I am not like most,” came on a wrinkled nose and corresponding juvenile makeshifts, features much the same as the cascade of air battered at his face. Rolling his eyes, he reflected and rebounded it back towards her in the same volley, pushing the chilling particles away, flickering them in her direction with corresponding Air incantations, then allowing them to dissipate. “Need a break?”
