@babatoes sent: "hey, hey wait—!! don't even think about throwing another rock at me. or you'll miss out on this." lithe hands then presents a bottle of wine yet to be opened.
The peace of today exists because strife made Morax a warrior that could enforce order within his realm of jurisdiction. Nevertheless even gods must learn to adapt to the rhythms of the world and shifting ground beneath one’s feet.
“Throw is an exaggeration,” he rectifies, nearly a scoff as the momentary irritation passes through him. Morax has had several lifetimes to acquire a learned man’s patience yet without fail manages to fall back on old habits when it concerns Barbatos. Their bond is one set in stone, a contract assumed but never written formally.
Aforementioned rock dubiously orbits Morax’s person without indictation of its path. His arms cross as he inspects the offering, appraising it for quality and make - not the Barbatos has ever provided him anything less than the finest to be found in Mondstadt. Alcohol produced by the Dawn Winery’s faculties possesses an acidity complementary to many traditional Liyuen dishes, an auspicious blend of cultures.
“You’re late. Again, I might add.” The sun overhead inches towards the horizon, daylight dwindling. By his approximation, Barbatos is at least thirty if not more minutes behind schedule. “When we have an appointment, I expect you to honor it or submit to the consequences.” His demeanor, however, betrays a light-heartedness evident in the slight, upturned smile he adopts.
