think of his tricks

everything I let go

Deimos made good on his promises; something Erebos was beginning to learn as a family trait, some Ignatius convictions; not to utter the sentiments unless you could truly fulfill them. Flying over the vastness of the Tundra on his father’s back, thunderwing plumage abound, the youth could see nearly everything from there, hands clutched in feathers and around their makeshift bags, The Greenwing unfurled before them in all its grandeur – the heightened verdantry beautiful to behold in the sunlight too, and he took it for all it was worth, with wide eyes and glory and youthful aplomb cast into his ribs; the excitement building and banking as they took another sloping turn, and eventually landed beside the bubbling stream.

Climbing off his father’s back, and adjusting his furs, his luxere hat back down over his ears, he grinned, passing over the bag of holding as the Sword shifted back. “That was awesome!” as were all the shifts; granting and giving him far too many ideas for the future, not yet voiced. Bouncing on his heels instead, his gaze went from his father to the brook and back again. “When are we going to see them?” There’d been enough tales of frost foxes in books and within the guild, hearing all the soldiers’ talk amongst the barracks, or even the other Halovian kids, to fill his head with thoughts of grandeur and notions of calculations – Deimos had suspected the latter immediately.

Then, with an entirely different thing weighing on his mind, for he hadn’t voiced it within the house upon announcements, nor while on thunderbird indications (for he wouldn’t have received an answer), he glanced up at the Warden. “Also I don’t know how to be a big brother.”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

These were moments to cherish in between the parallels of ongoing duties and responsibilities. These were the tides he and Evie had set about in their progress and promises to one another; to find those idle seconds and sentiments that made every wound, every laceration, worth the pain, anguish, and sacrifice. Even if it was as simple as flying over to let his son see some frost foxes – before inevitable things like seasons’ changing, the press of another arriving into the family, the ongoing notions of what Halo required.

The youth’s excitement was a palpable thing, and more than once the thunderbird maintained his stoic prowess, smothering a smirk downward until they were on land and he could address his son properly. Taking hold of the bag, he shook his head, cast a warm smile and ensured the luxere hat stayed put, tying the ends around Erebos’ chin as he chattered on. “I have seen most by the brook,” hence the landing. “But we will have to be quiet.” Not so difficult for the Sword, but certainly an experiment for Erebos; arching a brow at the lad, waiting for likely appeal as they set about on fresh, green proportions.

The statement, rather than a question, gave him adequate pause, turning around to face the youth so his attention was properly commanded. A thousand inquiries and statements sought to ramble through his mind – portions like how he hadn’t known how to be a father until it happened (and hoping he wasn’t committing grievous errors upon those he raised). But rather than start on a speech, he settled himself and all the cautious waves in his mind – for the youth had seemed excited upon the announcement. Now though, he wasn’t certain. “What do you mean?”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

everything I let go

The mere thought of being quiet rarely crossed Erebos’ mind; from sunup to sundown, his tolerance for roaming words and loud affectations of any sort of display was quite clear throughout Halo. He ran off energy in the Barracks. He bellowed along Snowcloak’s paths. He instigated and agitated the companions throughout the house until all of them were wound and set outside to continue their chasing of one another. The semblance of silence was a difficult thing to muster, and he immediately narrowed his eyes in thought, wondering if it was a trick of his father. Deimos was known for his ability to be stoic and solemn and hushed, despite the way he settled into a room. Such was easily done for the Sword, but not for the little blade he and Evie had brought forth into the world.

“Fiiiine,” came on a drawled complaint, and he thought about petulantly wrapping his arms in front of his chest and giving off a pout. Neither of his parents had ever been affected by such antics though, and it probably wouldn’t work today either. One had to wonder if they’d ever tried it on their own ancestry, and thus far it just hadn’t bothered anyone and it ceased with each tangent of the bloodline. Shrugging instead, he started walking alongside, trying to imitate quietude, when the response to his earlier statement came, and he was forced to extend the worries and apprehensions that had been meandering through him instead. His nose wrinkled at the fair play, as if he hadn’t seen it coming.

“Well, like. What am I going to have to do? I can’t fight very good yet,” though he’d been practicing when he could catch his father’s eye as he made his rounds, or when one of the other soldiers gave him a passing notation. “And I don’t want to change diapers.” That sounded horrendous.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

The intonation brought forth merely an inward eye roll and not much more, long limbs slowing down so the youth’s shorter strides could keep up as they passed upon knolls. He was less interested in the pouting over having to be quiet for five minutes, than the notions coming thereafter, though he had to immediately stifle the laugh threatening to unfurl from his lungs and ribs. He’d have to remember the quote for Evie later. “And none of those things will be expected of you,” he granted, opening his gloved hand so he could fit Erebos’ much smaller one in the between. “They will be very new. Probably loud. Or sleep a lot at first.” At least Erebos had, but each one was different. “Your mother and I would want you to be kind and loving. Look out for them, certainly, but it is our job to protect you. Think how Amhran has always been supportive.” Tolerant and amiable, the Raeling had certainly never made Erebos feel foolish or ignorant; there, present, consistent, a good role model for the impending and growing Ignatius brood.

Trying to find a way to make it simpler, his considerations and thoughts persisted. “Being quiet when they sleep,” there that was again, but they’d all learn, one way or another. “You could read to them. Tell them about your adventures.” He granted a wink, but still followed through, wanting to ensure that this was a far better outlook for the lad, than say the potential of diaper disasters. “How does that sound?”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

everything I let go

The assurances came, as they often did, and Erebos listened instead of beginning another appeal or complaint. His brows furrowed into a juvenile scrunch of movement and motion, his father’s hand surrounding his as they made their way further into the midst of greenery and the sharp breeze. No expectations laden upon his tiny shoulders, save for maybe a few that he’d be fully capable of, until maybe the novelty wore off or he’d come to love and adore this sibling just as much as he did with Amhran. “Was I loud?” he offered at first with a teasing tilt to his grin, as if this was a past tense motion and not the current, ongoing present. “But I can do that, I think,” solidified with a residual nod, a whisper of those convictions.

Then they were at the brook, and the sentiments, worries, passed through into the ether. For now, anyway, until the baby arrived. His eyes roamed from stone to icy outcroppings on embankments, or parts where they’d melted away from the sun’s rays; a change from when they’d visited and grabbed offerings for Safrin. “Okay, where do we go?”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

Deimos did permit a rumble to pass through at that inquiry; satisfied for the moment that Erebos’ worries had been set aside. “Was?” he granted in return, the lift to his brow and another vibrant stream of laughter enough to admit that was still an ongoing challenge for the youth. “You were talkative.” Than himself, certainly, and could probably say that for an eternity. “Friendly, outgoing. Everything you are now,” and he nudged the youth with an elbow, until they came upon the stream.

His gaze meandered to the brook; listening for the telltale signs and sounds of the little beasts – but nothing was telling, yet. Patience was a virtue Deimos had in spades, but his son…not so much at the moment. Something valuable and learned. “How about we sit on some of those rocks? And we can use treats to lure them out.” In doing so, he led the youth over to the boulders, likely once carved from glaciers, massive, imposing, and a grand area for animals to stalk and utilize on their own. He settled upon one, patting the surface so Erebos would do the same, and began to hand over the portions within his pockets, doubting the companions’ at home would notice their absence.

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

everything I let go

Erebos laughed in return, satisfied with the answer; a very bright grin enamored and golden along his face. But then there the actions to coincide with, so he hopped along the intended stone, swinging his legs for a few moments before realizing that might be making sound, so then he adjusted so he was on his stomach. Even stretched out the rock was much larger than him, and he snorted, glancing upwards at his father, and then partook in the treat dispensing.

Snagging at one of them, he took off a glove for better handling of the little bits of jerky, intending to send them sailing in multiple directions. Maybe one would settle over on the other edge of the stream, where foxes and their kits could run about. Or even underneath them, directly below and in grand view of spectacles and wonder. When that was done, his gaze went right back to his father. “Okay, then what?”

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

As Erebos chucked the treats around, so did Deimos, though with a little more purpose, method, and intention. The portions of jerky were granted with Mastered Air, lifting gently and rolling off to pivotal points where he’d seen the foxes in the past. Perhaps dens were underneath long leagues of grass and rock overhangings, leaving hidden durations for the kits to play and wander.

Though he wasn’t surprised when Erebos already began voicing the next step; perhaps the most difficult for one of his age and energy. “We have to wait,” he whispered in return, lifting his eyes towards the reel of nature around them – the Longheat sky, with no clouds along the horizon and only the warmth of the sun, the tranquil, serene setting with babbling brooks and rustling eaves of leaves and other verdant angles of nature. Something to be appreciated in the stretch of patience and silence; no ghosts, no requiems, no dirges, only the hope and consideration of animals to come rambling outwards.

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

everything I let go

The youth huffed and sighed, expecting the response but hopeful there’d be another step in there. Withdrawing from the potential nuances of echoing an earlier sentiment, or worse, breaching the silence, his gaze roamed elsewhere; pitching about the magical world they lived within. Stories had been passed down from other semblances that years before, when he hadn’t been born or even thought of yet, this hadn’t been there at all – just more tundra, more stark, overwhelming white; and perhaps it was nice to sit within the brambles of this earth and pay attention to it, rather than taking it for granted.

So Erebos didn’t know how long it took until he could hear the slight movement below – the sounds of cracking ice, the wayward track of paws hitting grass and maneuvering stealthily, slowly, towards the portions of jerky. He grabbed hold of his father’s sleeves though, pointing downward to alert and signal, and then started to lower himself, closer and closer, to bear witness to the delightful little creatures he’d longed to see for so long.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

Deimos tried, again with great difficulty, not to laugh at the look of excitement on his son’s face. Instead, he gave a nod of accord, seeing the creatures tracing and maneuvering along the valley’s scopes. Opting to make their observation easier, he carefully and precisely moved the remaining jerky treats within range, hoping to illustrate the finer points of their hunting capabilities, intelligence, and beauty, without making them far too alert and keen to take off if and when they were noticed.

The foxes crept, enamored, and once one began to emerge, so too did the rest – eventually, five were out and about, tumbling, rolling, pouncing, and chasing after the meat. Relishing the excursions and delighted by the hunt, they jumped and scattered, rampaging after one another with yips and crackles of ice; sounding like shards of breaking glass. His brow arched, watching as Erebos tried to wiggle himself closer, always within that realm of temptation and enticement.

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

everything I let go

The lad couldn’t quite help it; that need, that compulsion, that desire to try. Within half a moment he was dangling off the edge of their stone, arms akimbo and outreaching, quiet, stealthy as he could be, as he felt his father reach for his jackets. Held there, steady and firm by his Deimos’ strong grasp, the youth grinned, and figured it was worth a shot. If not, then he could at least go home and have a wondrous story for his mother and Amhran, about how close he was to feeding a frost fox out of his hand.

The closest was a young one; but clearly capable of hunting on its own. Maybe less than a year, if he were to study much more intently. It leapt and bounded at the scent of more treats, making his icy calls and Erebos dearly wanted to giggle at the noises; as if all of them were launching on top of a frozen puddle. Instead, he concentrated, tongue sticking out as he extended his hand outward, just to see.

Then the fox launched again, coming this close to his glove…

And stared straight at him, swiping the treat with gentle teeth.

Like a snapping juncture, Erebos suddenly felt his mind filled with another presence; something eager, hungry, consuming. Just as quickly as he’d jutted out, he tried to scramble back. “Pull me up,” he whispered to the Sword, but the animal kept following.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

In hindsight, Deimos might have thought Erebos a little too bold in his attempts. He could’ve pulled him back sooner. He might not have encouraged the audacity. But then again; he was there, his son was safe, and six bites of jerky weren’t going to ruin any of the animals’ abilities to fend for themselves once they departed. However, the sudden glance between fox and boy, and then the panic in his son’s eyes, ensured he’d pulled the lad back, into his arms, and away as the creature refused to yield, evade, or escape – sitting there on the rock with them, all its flightiness gone, long ivory tail wagging.

Glancing back and forth between Erebos and the creature, his brows furrowed. “What is wrong? What happened?” Except, Deimos likely knew; he’d had the same circumstances years and years before – with a peryton who’d seen an opportunity and taken it.

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

everything I let go

Erebos had heard these stories time and time before. How some animals bonded with humans, how easily it rendered over their synapses, how souls became intertwined, shared. Gods, they had three of them right in their own homes – Zuriel, Belial, Micah, all with their own sentiments and attitudes and glory. He just never thought it would happen to him. No manner of plotting or planning or wishful thinking had made it seem like it would occur.

Except for now, when he kept breathing and stammering and felt the notion of something shared in between ribs and lungs. Panic riddled at his throat, eyes darting back and forth from creature to his father, safe and secure but not at the same time. “Um..,” he wasn’t certain how to explain, despite Deimos having years upon years of practice with the same sentiments. “It’s like I can feel what he’s…thinking?” pointing at the fox. “Because these aren’t mine,” as he gestured back to his head, reeling, confused.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

where I save you and you save me

The Sword snorted at the finality of it all, shaking his head in rough amusement, the conclusion beginning to click into place. “That is normal. He has bonded himself to you.” He let that sink in for a second, head resting gently on his son’s curly mop of hair so that there was a calming, placating interlude, a breath of stillness so Erebos would take a second to understand. Deimos had shared space with Zuriel and Belial for so long he’d forgotten what it might feel like upon initial standards – that flight of panic when the first instant of another’s thoughts and feelings interjected with one’s own. His unicorn always beheld her haughty nature, his peryton the unrelenting, obnoxious beacons of mischief; but he could always differentiate them from his own. It might not be so easy for his son, despite the sneaking suspicion that this had been done entirely on purpose - just not accounted for actually ever occurring. A bold endeavor with a favorable outcome.

“Perhaps he thought you would be a good caretaker.” A provider, a giver of treats and food. A break from the wilderness and a soft, warm bed with a child, who, once he got over the startled proportions, would be an endless source of entertainment to love and cherish. “You will have to name him.”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly