Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Belial continued to sneer from above, but was either too irritated or petulant to join the rest of them, so Zuriel directed her attention to the dragon before her. There was a light snort, as if she might not deign herself towards the creature, before resigning to the notions at Deimos’ slight arch of a brow, and stretching her neck out. For a moment - before breathing heavily over the top of the other companion’s head, subsequently returning to her imperial position and disposition. For his part, the Sword rolled his eyes, but considered Talyson’s question. Unicorns were already one of the few full-size bonded – the imagery of a bigger one somewhat amused him. “Perhaps. It might even the playing field a bit though.” The corresponding grin manifested in an air of machinations and mischief combined.Notions of landsharks seemed to have the youth intrigued, and Deimos wasn’t certain if he should’ve been encouraging the stalwart enterprise seemingly brewing from hounds and courier. “Armor.” Leather of another variety – for gauntlets and things of such nature. “No.” He paused, pondering if there needed to be more of an explanation behind his guild’s nature. “We try not to hunt down anything without reason or cause. The guild does not exist for mindless mauling. Most of the time, if you leave wildlife alone, it will leave you alone.” A hard lesson learned over many years and lives.
