DEIMOS
He had to talk himself into the notions of a different set of appeals towards deities – not one of protection, defenses, guards, or shields, but of comfort for the world before them. Before war, it wouldn’t have been given a single trace of thought; not for a creature molded and sculpted within battle, bludgeoned multiple times, and striving to ensure his people were safe, secure. And after – where they could breathe without apprehension curling down their spines – perhaps these were the moments he could surrender to something without a safeguarding purpose. Deimos just wouldn’t admit it very often.
For their ideas would still have its comforts, its notions, its reasons, and so he permitted the thought to linger, to spread, to gain its wings and flight as they crouched near the shrine. Kneeling, taking the offerings of fruit, acquired from their own greenhouse, and settling the cream along the plate, he winked at Evie, and then began some portion of their speech and request. “Frey, your assistance in ensuring Halo’s safety was successful, and we thank you again.” A pause settled as he unfurled his breath, and then persisted. “We hope you will be agreeable to aid this world once more.” And then allowing his fellow Warden to fill in the rest.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
