He had not survived this long under his own power except by being on constant alert, nearly as keen as the razor-edge of his tail blade, and the stars would burn out in the sky before he'd let himself be caught unawares in what the whispers and glances of the other courts suggested might well be enemy territory. Certainly the court proper was ripe with opportunities for ambush - the furtive nature of one of its inhabitants only served to wind him up like a bowstring, that he might leap like a locust at the first sign of foul play.
But while his primal instinct was to ready himself for the throng of bloodthirsty guardsmen alerted by one frightened resident, the part of him that played the odds urged cautious compassion instead.
Softening the hard angles of his warforged bearing, Raymond turned and stepped slowly toward the shadows into which Isra had sought to hide, head held in a loose and reassuring arch. "I'm sorry," he called out with the specter of an unrealized smile on his tongue, and his voice was as friendly and confident as he could ever have made it. Certainly he had no choice but to carry a blade, but perhaps his greatest weapon had always been his almost ruthlessly infectious charm. "I was looking for...."
The red stallion straightened briefly. Somebody was pretty much all he could say at this point, with how silent the streets had become and how heavy the pall that shrouded the landscape had become. What had happened during the kingdom's isolation for someone to jump at shadows and see an enemy in the silhouette of a visitor?
"...Where is everyone? What happened here?"
Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
@Isra
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
