Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Deimos had long since staked a reputation on being a stoic, reticent, furtive beast – the entanglements of mischief were reserved for friends and family. Whether or not they actually enjoyed his level of boyish glee (absurdly immature and juvenile) had yet to be proclaimed, but they laughed alongside him most of the time.A smirk she wouldn’t be able to see widened at the way her hair resembled something a bat or bird would revel in. He had to stifle his laughter so she wouldn’t be able to detect his presence, but the Cheshire grin remained as he folded his arms back over his chest – surveying the domain as she sputtered. “Yes,” came from the entryway, another realm of his voice thrown in that abyss. “I thought you enjoyed challenges.”
For the miss, he compelled a few birds through one of the many open windows – permitting them to do as they wished around her (like find a new nest in her locks).
