[b][h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1] [hr] [center][img]https://s.aolcdn.com/dims-shared/dims3/GLOB/crop/3280x2050+0+121/resize/640x400!/format/jpg/quality/85/https://s.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/midas/73ce8167c00ca1dc68e8468a67c07477/202780896/Photo+Credit+Jordan+Matter.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] [center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color]Arena Skills: N/A[/center] [hr][/b] Arthur watched Demi carefully as he continued to talk. He [i]should[/i] be getting something to keep track of Andy's well being before they left, so he was head of the curve on that, but it wouldn't be anything personal. He took a few moments to think, considering what he could give Andy before they had to go, but he really didn't have too many personal items. He'd reflect on it and hopefully come up with something soon. He made a mental note to never yell at Demi, not wanting to either hurt him, or invoke his ire, before laughing at Demi's threat, and gleefully nodded. At the reading of the prophecy, a part of him didn't want to get up, and that part of him was pretty much all of him. He wanted to pretend that "The Dead" could make a kid of Thanatos, but he knew it was about him. Slowly standing up, he didn't let his eyes meet anybody's. He didn't want anybody looking at him right now, and he didn't want to be at all celebrated for this awful thing he would have to do. He wanted to be with Andy, and that was about it. If anything happened to her while he wasn't there, he genuinely didn't know if he could take it, and the thought alone paralyzed him.