walking the path so many paced a million times

Deimos

Straighter and calmer, dignified and noble, quiet and contemplative, the Sword glanced upward now, towards the stretch of obsidian, at the bizarre interworkings of such a place; before his eyes settled back upon Darkeye, pondering how best to answer. Eventually, the purposeful machinations worked their way through his tones, clipped and measured. “You have many good ideas. But you need the time, experience, and strength in this world to enact on them.” Maybe he should’ve stuck to just one of the multitudes, so that a goal was reached before everything else came crashing down. “Thank you.” With a slight smile; because listening had been an attribute, a skill, picked up long, long ago; carried in his mind and suiting him well.

The grin remained, though it didn’t reach his piercing gaze. “That is kind of you.” His stare went to the floor, narrowing, pondering, grasping at what the most probable of factors would press into the wake. “If you approach the gods about the situation, they will likely say she has made her choice.” There was no going back. A body changed and altered, and segmented solely to one individual alone – dependent, for lifetimes.

Insinuating nothing about Noah, but of the overall outlook lately, Deimos sighed. Thoughts on Kiada swarmed along his comprehension and calculations – for no matter how often he’d expressed she’d be safe, the notions couldn’t be extinguished. Not now. “With everything going on, trust between Old and New God constituents is not easy."

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight