@blessaed
“ How painfully ironic; a meek mouse such as yourself, clinging to these revolting lions who claim themselves to be the heroes of the land -- it’s truly outstanding, really. “
When despair speaks, his tongue is sharp -- its truth bitter and cold, lacking clemency. He gives no warning to his presence, for a god such as himself desires nothing more than to strike fear into a frantic heart. Grima steps forward, grass crunching underneath his feet as seething scarlet trail over to yet another fitting doll set to embody godhood (he found Robin to be a pleasantly suitable vessel). With fingers that he stole without so much as a second thought, Grima’s tapping at his chin, sneering -- immorality seeping through his bared teeth. That same hand outstretches itself, just beyond his cranium. Deliberately, the god chooses to reveal the back of his hand, six mauve set of eyes staring at the tactician before him.
“ Salwa, a child born in my lineage -- look at how much you’ve ripened, and yet... you still lack the ability to hold the world through my palm. “