The winged Solterrans made their leave as quickly as they had arrived, declining the invitation to meet the Delumine king. Their words reverberated in his ears, a long heartbeat spent suspended in time as the meaning of them sank in.

The Sovereign and one of his Champions! It seemed so bold, so extravagant—Po could hardly contain his excitement, could not stop the tingling sensation that coursed down his spine. It was as if he had been dunked into ice water, the cold washing and awakening his nerves so that he felt entirely alive, energy thrumming inside of his veins. He had less than a minute to bid them “safe flight” before they and their tarps were gone, vanishing into the sky above. His black hair is swept from his face by the might of their wings, and he finds himself breathless, enraptured by the beauty of their flight, by the possibilities and promises they left him with. He no longer cares about the way they muddied his river, its once-still waters lapping at the ragged riverbanks in distress, but he ignored them for his mind was occupied with this detail of far greater importance.

He turns to the roan stallion, whose name continues to slip from his mind like the water he stands in as it rushes past. “I’m going to find King Kasil,” he tells him, a dreaminess clouding his voice. Dirt mottled legs are already lifting, beginning the trek back to the Dawn Court capitol, to the bay king who would undoubtedly be very interested in the news of the desert king’s visit. “You’re welcome to join me, if you would like!” he calls back to him, a look cast back over his shoulder. Ipomoea certainly would not mind the company—who knew what interesting things they might discuss along the way?—but he would leave it up to Ulric, for he was already hastening his pace, eager to be on his way.


@Ulric
and po is out!
”!!!”