DEIMOS
Meticulous and scrupulous by routine and habit, the Sword left Cordelia to her own labor as the implementation of the vines curled and coiled under his ministrations. They arced and contorted until the vegetation appeared to have an end, the form reaching the peak of the house and rampaging back downward; eventually left to saunter on its own. He could’ve conformed to some design, but uncertain where it would’ve marred the overall construction and implantation of the plant, he permitted the honeysuckle its own due. “Good enough?” He called back over his shoulder, awaiting her judgement while his gaze eventually flickered back to her actions.She appeared to have found some makeshift pattern with the hues and blends, and he roamed closer, inspecting, nosey as ever. “Suitable,” he offered with an obnoxious grin, studying the remnants of soil, granting one last lift of magic so they all rose towards the sun, before gesturing to the food he’s scrounged up for after. “Come on. I think we have earned ourselves a break.”
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
