Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
Raymond had always smiled more easily than Asterion, had learned from a young age to value its versatility as a tool rather than its clarity as a window to the soul, but even the smile he offered seemed distant and polite. It was the look of a statesman at court, a far cry from his natural, unflappably arrogant grin.
He didn't particularly care for it, but this business wasn't his business - it was Denocte's.
"There was a tsunami. Then, we were besieged," the red stallion replied, "by a murder of monstrous crows." His wounds itched all the more beneath their still-drying scabs for the farce that had unfolded after. That the beasts should be cowed by bardic pageantry and allowed to persist within the night kingdom after what they had done to its defenders, to Calliope.... Something black and bitter slithered in the deepest chasms of his heart at the memory, its body an ancient world-swallowing coil as it turned its heavy eyeless head upward.
Raymond blinked; the tiny click of his eyelids closed upon the feeling like the jaws of a steel trap, and when he continued his voice radiated more of his customary warmth. "But we've kept ourselves busy rebuilding where we can. Isra will be pleased to see you at the festival."
Even he could not say whether his sudden eagerness to depart was a result of remembering just how busy he was or a visceral reaction to the shadow of his own thoughts, but he played the put-upon gentleman well enough for government work and sensed that Asterion wouldn't mind if he found some excuse not to linger. "I must be off. Please give my regards to Florentine."
He drifted toward the door, offering a perfunctory nod.
He didn't particularly care for it, but this business wasn't his business - it was Denocte's.
"There was a tsunami. Then, we were besieged," the red stallion replied, "by a murder of monstrous crows." His wounds itched all the more beneath their still-drying scabs for the farce that had unfolded after. That the beasts should be cowed by bardic pageantry and allowed to persist within the night kingdom after what they had done to its defenders, to Calliope.... Something black and bitter slithered in the deepest chasms of his heart at the memory, its body an ancient world-swallowing coil as it turned its heavy eyeless head upward.
Raymond blinked; the tiny click of his eyelids closed upon the feeling like the jaws of a steel trap, and when he continued his voice radiated more of his customary warmth. "But we've kept ourselves busy rebuilding where we can. Isra will be pleased to see you at the festival."
Even he could not say whether his sudden eagerness to depart was a result of remembering just how busy he was or a visceral reaction to the shadow of his own thoughts, but he played the put-upon gentleman well enough for government work and sensed that Asterion wouldn't mind if he found some excuse not to linger. "I must be off. Please give my regards to Florentine."
He drifted toward the door, offering a perfunctory nod.
@Asterion | worst post you say? hold my beer
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
