I carried my own ashes to the mountains
Deimos couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest at the first statement – for which he thoroughly agreed. Danta was a lot, in an overt sense he couldn’t quite put his finger on – perhaps merely an extroverted state of being – but maybe that helped the Hollowed Grounds’ cause. Someone should’ve championed for it, and perhaps many of them would’ve been capable, had it not been for the significant amount of trauma, memories, and bedlam that seemed to rise and fall with the wake of this world. Noah had been forced, but Danta had made it his own choice, and didn’t have the horrific melancholy or ghosts coinciding. “Good,” he nodded, but then his brow arched at her other insinuation.
Striving not to smirk or smile and failing to do so, a muffled sort of snicker came over his mouth once again. “Like what?”
Striving not to smirk or smile and failing to do so, a muffled sort of snicker came over his mouth once again. “Like what?”
DEIMOS
