Deimos
Not one to diminish any deities (unless it was the Voice), because he’d learned lessons in Helovia, his brow arched at Ru’s statements, the corner of his mouth upturned in a vague smile. Somewhere between impish and guarded. “And would they come up?” A rhetorical question perhaps, but he figured the Valkyrie knew better in those regards. Right times and right moments, uncertain if any of those would align with certain subjects. Maybe a warning embedded and contorted in there too.
The affections pried open and left there amidst the bond gave him a pause, scrutinizing and searching them for a moment, mildly perplexed at the way they buried and entrenched into his bones. Whispers and fragments, lined in their appreciations; and for half a moment he almost wondered why, because he hadn’t been able to fix anything for her. But then he knew better, absorbing them with a snort, and brotherly adornments in return.
Sweeping strides matched, and he snagged at another bout of withered, tethered limbs, all conjoined together in a gnarled, twisted formation. Breaking and splintering them apart, he followed her answer – magical trainings, Sah’s growth, the way Halo was coming back together time and time again. Out of Talyson’s orbit, the mage seemed to thrive, in maturity and sagacity, and Deimos didn’t bother diving deeper into that thought. “We can always combine a hunt with some magical training one day, if you want,” as an idea and suggestion, uncertain what her strategies and curriculum would preside or provide over.
The affections pried open and left there amidst the bond gave him a pause, scrutinizing and searching them for a moment, mildly perplexed at the way they buried and entrenched into his bones. Whispers and fragments, lined in their appreciations; and for half a moment he almost wondered why, because he hadn’t been able to fix anything for her. But then he knew better, absorbing them with a snort, and brotherly adornments in return.
Sweeping strides matched, and he snagged at another bout of withered, tethered limbs, all conjoined together in a gnarled, twisted formation. Breaking and splintering them apart, he followed her answer – magical trainings, Sah’s growth, the way Halo was coming back together time and time again. Out of Talyson’s orbit, the mage seemed to thrive, in maturity and sagacity, and Deimos didn’t bother diving deeper into that thought. “We can always combine a hunt with some magical training one day, if you want,” as an idea and suggestion, uncertain what her strategies and curriculum would preside or provide over.
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
