Similar to a dog coming to heel. The ravenous Ker moved to stand by Oizys’ side.
For now. Death gives their curiosity regarding misery’s absence pause.
‘Satiating’ their hunger took precedent. It always did. “Let’s go”
The idea of food is enough to brighten hazy eyes.
They’d always been food motivated and now is no different. Ker is able to forgive the beautiful man’s awkwardness.
Many probably do anyways .
“Food. Is good.” A thumbs up is earned accompanied with a nod. “Shall. . . We?”
he begins with an awkward chuckle, looking away.
"Perhaps you would like to accompany me? I can provide food and drink, if you do. Maybe help you clean up."
The scowl from the stranger means nothing to Keres and it’s possible that after learning who the blonde was.
It would still mean nothing.
The hand on their chest turns into Ker pointing at the princess. “You first.”
They demand curiously.
Melinoë’s mismatched gaze watches them closely, as if studying and learning, the seemingly cruel scowl of discernment her Father often wore reflects now on her face.
The Princess nods.
“I understand now. I had assumed those to be Thanatos’ job too. What is your name?”
is thrilling to say the least but Keres doesn’t share that.
they’ve always been one of little words, preferring to rest their larynx however possible.
“Fighting?” They question. Thinking perhaps oizys was at odds with someone at home .
Their head tilts. Customary?
Interesting. The thought to greet others never crossed their mind.
“Rarely greet.” Comes the hoarse explanation of their own experience. “M’ too 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺—“ they half speak , half growl.
“to say hi.” Excited too. Tearing a soul from its body
In the sea of hunger that resides in Ker’s gaze , there is a wave of recognition that passes at the mention of their brother.
“Violent death.” A brief and harsh explanation leave the hoarse deity. “Wars . . . .disease and murder.” A hand is brought to their chest as they
The Princess tilts her head, confused.
“I thought that was Thanatos. Apologies, the majority of my life has been spent training, not learning about others and their domains.”
The incarnate plops unceremoniously before the other.
Ker taps their bloodied and clawed fingernails against the table below.
“Guidance.” They repeat hoarsely. Curious.
“Yes.”
A crooked smirk finds itself on their lips as she looks on at the concerned god.
“M’fine.” The singular word comes out strangled and rough.
“It’s. . . Not mine.” They explain with cracked words
“Then why—“ the word trails on before they clear their throat. “announce it?”
Their own rough disposition softens a fraction in the presence of their sibling. “Very long. You’re not in . . . The underworld these days.”
⠀
⠀
“ for 𝑚𝑒 ⸝ perhaps . ”
attention drifts toward violent death incarnate ⸝ scowl on melancholic visage softening .
“ greetings ⸝ sister mine . it has been 𝑓𝑎𝑟 too long . ”
⠀
⠀