RENWICK
This is...nice the word lazily circled his mind like fog in the port. Even while their conversation occasionally touches upon wounds that will never truly heal, Renwick never lost the feeling. This warmth which settled within his chest and twinkled in the moonstone hues of his eyes. His nerves are not frayed like they usually are, when the echoes of war visit him in his dreams. When he swore he can still taste the ash in the breeze, and his own blood in his mouth. It is pleasant. The ghosts are gentle while they carded their spindled fingers through the vast oceans of his hair, across his brow.
The stars shimmered and the water is still, and they are both illuminated by the soft light of the lanterns discarded at their sides. It is picturesque, something out of a children's book, he's sure there are stories like theirs. Somewhere in those dog-eared pages, not quite the same, but the melody they sang would be a similar bittersweet tune. Two souls on the opposite sides of the battlefield, their lives churned and span in opposite directions, but always ended at the same point.
I believe I should be telling you not to feed my ego.
"There isn't any harm if what I speak is the truth, is there?" Renwick replied with a quirk of his own brow, a smile ghosted upon his lips a note shy of sly. He doesn't elaborate that he enjoyed seeing her subtle gestures, little things that make his chest light and his eyes sparkle in delight. Lightness suited her well, like morning light streaming between gauzy curtains. The dappled forest floor speckled by morning. Little things many did not appreciate, but he did. Did Solterra know she was capable of such things? Had they witnessed the quirk of her brow or the ghost of her lips in a way that he had this night?
He was getting overly romantic, his brother's had often sighed when he waxed poetic. Got lost in his head over seemingly unimportant details in the picture.
Seraphina's gentleness in her next words proved that much to him, that small details were worth their weight in gold. "I do." But he didn't elaborate further, it's left as a bemused huff and a fond smile. She has opened his eyes, while he hadn't hated Solterra — how could one hate a nation that could not help itself, could not protect itself from the monster who wore a crown of gold dappled in the blood of innocent — he had an acrid taste in his mouth. Seraphina had showed him hope. That the images he had left Solterra with were not the reality. That they could change and overcome. Seraphina was not those little dead things which ambled over the sands with one singular purpose; to kill or be killed.
She had grown, and while the road would be long and rocky. She had already accomplished much, she had arisen from her ashes. Now all she had to do was take flight. A part of him hoped he was there to witness that moment.
I cannot guarantee that we are in our…most appealing state, at the moment, but perhaps you will see us more clearly that way.
"Regardless of it's state, I will enjoy it." Renwick stated gently. He means it, whatever raw and ugly truths are laid bare on those sandy cobblestones and written in soot upon sandstone walls. Renwick will drink it in with awe. It doesn't have to be beautiful, he would rather see it as it was, than hastily spun illusions, ill fitted pieces slotted together to form some semblance of normalcy. "If there is...anything I can do to help with the state of it, while I'm there, consider my hooves yours to use." He doesn't quite understand the depth of the situation, of course he doesn't. But he wants to help. Do some good, while his countrymen continue to dance the fine line of ill repute. A little good can go a long way, helped wounds close. "I will come as soon as I can." Renwick said in the next breath, his grin tamed more into a more reasonable smile.
I…would like that.
Renwick cannot hide the grin that burst on to his features, even if he tried. He had hoped she would accept, though he would of understood if she declined. Sovereign's crossing borders in times of trouble was not the most strategically sound option. But, then again. She will be protected, safe. "You'll be under the protection of The Brotherhood, and you are there under invitation of the Lord Commander." He grinned impishly. "Besides...what they don't know, cannot hurt them, can it?" She is not visiting there land as a threat, and he saw no reason to run the regime ragged with the knowledge. No doubt the Winged Kirin who they called emissary now, judging by the meeting he had just attended, would appreciate at least on Denoctian with their head on straight.
TAG; @
NOTES; <3
