Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Only realizing now that the fellow canines were on edge, and not overjoyed with the massive and dangerous stance of his form, the man gave a half-hearted, ambiguous shrug, before shifting back into his still tall figure. Accompanied by pelts and furs of the clothing variety, rather than the natural coat of the hound, he stood amidst the ice and snow just as natural as before. Accustomed and attuned to the vibrancy of the frigid wakes, piercing eyes sliding away from the shoal and embankments, and back to the courier.Which might have been just as well – considering the dragon’s mocking siege, and Belial’s high-shriek filling the air. Clearly offended by the affront (that she’d snuck up on him at all), he hissed and fumed, before taking off into the wind, intending to give rapid chase. Deimos closed his eyes for a second, maybe pretending not to see it (it was a pitiful sight from the peryton and an unfortunate lesson to be learned), before addressing Talyson in normal speech, rather than howls and barks. “Yes,” in accord and agreement. “I figured we all needed to get out.” Zuriel snorted something in response. Then he shrugged his shoulders, eyeing the sled for an instant, with the assemblage of dogs waiting and watching. “What brings you here today?” Unless he was granting a ramble amidst snow too – or making a delivery elsewhere.
