DEIMOS
He watched, shaking his head as the thrill and excitement murmured and cast aloft around the wide room, reverberating in something that sounded like a chuckle echoing off his chest too. “It is not bad. Warm too,” from what he recalled, and if it wasn’t, he could always alter the temperature. His smirk wasn’t even remotely subtle as she paraded around with muddy footprints – though he made it a point in the back of his mind to ensure their evidence wasn’t so potent and obvious – and couldn’t help the snort that followed her next statement. She couldn’t have thrown him if she’d wanted to.
“You first then,” he instigated a moment later, quick and rapid, snaking arms around her middle and intending to toss her over his shoulder, only to be dumped unceremoniously along the edge, amidst and amongst the healing goop. The Sword backed away swiftly, intending to give himself some space and time before the inevitable comeuppance, already laughing as he shucked his own boots and socks.
You aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
but you're terrified of letting anyone in
