[AW] just don't ask

[Isorath]

I S O R A T H — and I sank beneath the amorous sadness of night. It doesn't take long for another to join them, heralded by the laughter which rang behind him, the Kirin's gaze diverted easily to Acton. A smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, amusement written clearly as a summer day in it's fine details. His own antlered head dipped to return the greeting and followed with keen curiosity as the stallion dared to inch closer. He had not seen how many Crows had entered the Winter Festival, not that it mattered now. Acton's own reaction earned an unstifled laugh, and his retort a snorted breath. "It's enough to make you grow a winter coat in summer, no?" It was why he hadn't dared to get closer to help the felled stallion, for the fear of going cross eyed with every step aimed toward the unicorn's vicinity. You’ve also missed a fair amount of excitement, but I bet Isorath here can catch you up. A silver brow quirked in response as he allowed the buckskin crow to meet his eye. What a tale it would be, to tell the hungover stallion, and the rest of the Court when the time came. A time that was inching steadily closer the more and more Isorath thought about it. As soon as his thoughts began to spiral, he stopped them, and with an incline of his head he regarded the two. "I'm afraid there is not enough tea in Sunsyia, or alcohol in Dencote, to go with that story. However, if you do find enough, I'll tell you." He replied in good humor after a moment, and a wink for good measure.   Rostislav. An all too familiar voice echoed out in the Courtyard next, and pulled him away from Acton and Rostislav, searching until his lilac gaze found and settled the owner of it. Fondness ran it's unmistakable paint brush across his sharp features before the spell is broken. Reichenbach made to pull the hungover stallion up, while Isorath resumed his post, an elegant bystander to a rather humorous situation. While he's certainly no stranger to the hungover and the washed up, after a particularly good night of reverie and festivities. He's never had the pleasure to witness a King help a Goliath find his feet.   "There should still be breakfast being served, if not, I can ask the kitchens to make something for us all." He offered with a shrug of his scaled shoulder, more interested in the press of Reich's own shoulder to his, his teke absently reaching to thread through Reich's hair but for a moment. He relished in the closeness for a moment, before he pulled away and began to lead the way inside. There was no sense is staying outside now, with Rostislav on his feet and talk of breakfast, among other topics. By now the fires would be stoked to their potential, ready to chase away the nipping frost which lingered in the spring air — and Aether's chill brought by the dragon's mere presence. At the singular thought spared to the Dragon, and the mounting anticipation of what words would be shared, Aether swooped closer. Drawn in by their bond as he landed upon the ancient stone walls of the Courtyard, rumbled breath tumbling smoke and frost down the dark stones. The dragon's pupiless gaze lingered on them all and no one in particular, horned head tilted to better gaze at the equines beneath his shadow. He paused himself at the top of the old stone stairs, his head elegantly arched over his shoulder to regard the King, his Crow and his Warden. "Difficult, yes. Terrastella I fear is no longer safe for any who fly Calligo's colours." TAG: @Rostislav @Acton @Reichenbach