EVIE
Eyes shutter obediently, breath held in stasis for but a moment as water pours down over her head, washing ichor and suds clean and clear. Though she has not been dirtied for long, the sudden state of cleanliness - even imperfect - feels like a weight off her shoulders. Evie keeps her eyes closed until the few rounds of rinsing have finished, and only then does she lift a hand to rub the water away from the darkened copper of her lashes to blink open once more. "Neither do I," she admits easily as her hand falls back to the filled basin, "but I'd be happy to help. The curiosity alone is incentive; I've only seen Grounds weddings." Including Deimos' own, but Evie doesn't think a Goddess officiating a wedding could possibly be topped.
Evie gives him a baleful glance over her shoulder as he diminishes his title, but her lips twitch at the corners. "He's already her demigod, he can't hog all the titles." It's spoken with an air of upturned-nose-arrogance on his behalf, though she knows Deimos has always humbly - and sometimes uncomfortably - shirked and turned away from any complimentary titles and terms.
Finally she turns, on her shins now to face him. Continuing her path with the bar of soap, she nods silently to his observations as she gently rubs circles with the soap into his chest opposite the strange wound. "I hope so. Regardless of whether she's perceived as a coward, I am glad she survived because of her actions. At least being alive she has the chance for redemption." And perhaps some would look down on Evie for that outlook, but as a healer, Evie would prefer people alive over the alternative - no matter the context of their survival.
Evie gives him a baleful glance over her shoulder as he diminishes his title, but her lips twitch at the corners. "He's already her demigod, he can't hog all the titles." It's spoken with an air of upturned-nose-arrogance on his behalf, though she knows Deimos has always humbly - and sometimes uncomfortably - shirked and turned away from any complimentary titles and terms.
Finally she turns, on her shins now to face him. Continuing her path with the bar of soap, she nods silently to his observations as she gently rubs circles with the soap into his chest opposite the strange wound. "I hope so. Regardless of whether she's perceived as a coward, I am glad she survived because of her actions. At least being alive she has the chance for redemption." And perhaps some would look down on Evie for that outlook, but as a healer, Evie would prefer people alive over the alternative - no matter the context of their survival.
Don't look up, just let them think
There's no place else you'd rather be
There's no place else you'd rather be
