I
sorath's concern isn't the malcontent of Gods. Gods are Gods, and he is but a chapter in a librum owned by entities unfathomable. When he dies, he will return to Gods who are not of this land, reside in an afterlife with those that come before. He will return to the earth and the troubles and tribulations of the unworthy, petty, and discontent will no longer be his to laugh and sneer at.But now is not that time.
His concern is for his beloved and his soul-sister. When their exit vanishes beneath a Gods whim, Isorath can only stare in indignant disbelief. Forcing them to work together to get out? He snorts internally. In here, there is nothing but latent greviences to fester among the few who genuinely try.
"Of course, Amatus. What do you take me for? Can I call him, of course I can." The Kirin hums, sing song and contrary. The discord and discontent flows freely between him and the dragon, whose questioning sings back to him through the intangible threads between their hearts.
'Trapped?' The dragon questions, exasperation evident in his words. Outside he can hear the muffled, faint roar of Gilgamesh descending on the summit, the heavy thud of talons scraping against the earth and vibrating in the stones as the dragon sets to work outside the door. He can feel Gilgamesh's questioning puzzlement, mental ???'s pouring from him. 'I cannot believe this.' the dragon grouses after a moment, one final dig.
"This is a good look for you." Isorath comments slyly, as he watches Reichenbach work, his muzzle nudging against his flank. He rears, winged limbs extended to grip their prehensile talons around the looser rocks and pull, testing for weaknesses himself beside his King and Orion. "We should get caved in more often, if it means watching you get your hooves dirty more often."
@Isorath
