[ it dangles in front of him and he can't even see it.

Barbatos' laughter mingles with the wind (or perhaps the wind is laughing with him) and it touches his cheeks, ruffling his hood and kissing his skin. it feels like a touch, and his face sets stubbornly against the feeling, but the barest pink is in the shadows of his hood.

he's the Geo Archon, militant and steady in his rule, but is completely unused to Barbatos' easy smiles and frequent laughter. it's as if he makes this sort of intimacy easy, but Morax reasons that he's not there for that.

at all. ]

I'll pass it to those merchants that would see pathways to our newly paved roads. I expect them to be well worn through Stone Gate.

[ because he's busy and has no time for celebration, probably. ]