after fury
what do you do
Another approached, threading their way through snow and rime; Deimos presumed the footsteps would go by, recede, until the motions ceased at his designated threshold. The voice, laced and lanced with humor, brought him out of his concentration and focus. His head raised quickly, much like a predator, piercing eyes riveting back to the familiar form of Aisha; the slightest chuckle escaping his chest. Secrets remained safe then, currently, presently, an arch to his brow at her inquiry. “A friend’s. She has not made the announcement yet though,” and he shrugged his shoulders, not doing any other unfurling or unwinding in that threshold – a furtive, closed-off whim (ignoring the fact that he’d already told Rexanna’s daughter – but Kiada deserved the knowledge before drifting off to Halo). His gaze went to the blankets, pondering what other objects to place within the box. The reticence of his pondering and mulling prospered him straight back to silence, and between his hands he contorted and created again. This time it was a rattle, though without a rounded, sphere top, replaced and replicated with dagger points. He shrugged once more, ensuring the edges were blunted, and placed it within the pile of mantles.
Thereafter, his stare went back to her, looking down at the bucket in her hands. “What brings you here?” He didn’t anticipate her coming into the Artisan’s portion of the sanctuary; but then again, others probably didn’t predict him leading these halls either.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
