[ The little man is afraid, but they always are. He doesn't even so much as bat an eyelid at it - he is Deimos, and it is clear as it was screamed the first day in terror as it was now. Nor is her snapping tone, as quickly disregarded. He blinks at her, scowl fixed on his face as he looks at her.
He steps towards her, watching her, slow in the advance in so much as he steps easily double most. A fixed gaze does not waver or flicker. Like he might pick the trick of her compassion out from her mouth and expose it to daylight. ]
Why? Why do you want to do it for me?
[ The rest isn't a question. Yes, he can. No, it won't be as well done as if they do it. That isn't important to his mind. He worked it out a long time ago, that anything, everything can be done alone, if it must be, and it always must be, to him. ]
no subject
He steps towards her, watching her, slow in the advance in so much as he steps easily double most. A fixed gaze does not waver or flicker. Like he might pick the trick of her compassion out from her mouth and expose it to daylight. ]
Why? Why do you want to do it for me?
[ The rest isn't a question. Yes, he can. No, it won't be as well done as if they do it. That isn't important to his mind. He worked it out a long time ago, that anything, everything can be done alone, if it must be, and it always must be, to him. ]