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S O M N U S ’Somnus.’ The sound of his name reached his ears through the din of the festival attendees and the said King turned, verdant eyes seeking out the source as he carefully avoided knocking into a rambunctious young filly wearing a crown of roses with his wing. There were so many children about, thrilled with the plethora of flowers, the arts, and the music. The Dawn King’s gaze focused on the one who had called his name, recognition glistening within keen emerald eyes. It was Orion. The mottled grullo looked particularly dapper with his floral crown, an arrangement made of red roses and white orchids. Clearly he had been to see Ipomoea, and the sight of him caused Somnus to smile. “Orion. A pleasure to see you. I see you’ve paid good Po a visit?” His Emissary seemed particularly at ease, and the dunalino couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with his upbringing. Court life could never really be forgotten, no matter how long one might be absent from such a lifestyle. He hoped that Orion was settling comfortably into his new role. “Red roses and white orchids… They suit you.” Seated upon his croup, Alba blinked up at Orion with wide black eyes before letting out a pleased little chirrup. Oh, she had not forgotten the Emissary’s kind words, and wouldn’t anytime soon. The barn owl wore a small woven crown of her own, tucked beneath a few feathers in places to ensure that it would not fall off. It was a tiny thing, woven together with violet irises and strands of green holly. It matched Somnus’ own; modest, yet made with love. Vines of holly twisted from the crown that sat atop his poll, dangling and wrapping about the dunalino’s ebony horn. It hung in great loops before his face, swaying in the breeze, and made their usually composed and sophisticated look nothing more like a prancing gypsy. Even though he wasn’t one for crowns, and as such did not wear one even though he was Sovereign of Delumine, there was something particularly fond and appealing about wearing a crown made of one of Delumine’s most beautiful aspects. The other courts called them ’flower pickers’, mostly in insulting tongues. Somnus would gladly embrace the title of ’Flower Picker King’, if that was the case. Let him revel in pride and enjoy the beauty of his home. There was no shame in such an act. Unaware that he was doing it, Somnus bobbed his head in tempo with the nearby vocalists, but his gaze remained upon Orion’s grullo frame. He smiled, showing teeth, clearly relaxed and at ease. Nearby a dance began, shouts of joy and ’whoops’ being called into the air as a traditional Delumine dance picked up. It tugged at his heart, and the Dawn King glanced towards the dancers that had begun to sway and stamp their hooves with a look of longing before focusing back upon Orion. His smile grew. “Care to join me in a dance, Orion? I could use a good dance partner.” xx |
@Orion - Eeeee!
