| Typically he wanted nothing to do with these kinds of things, but rumors had a way of traveling along the breeze, and Roshan was curious. Nothing could stay hidden for long, not in this place. Roshan approached the conglomeration of equines gathered at the sand-swept citadel, mahogany eyes glittering with intent as he peered over their heads. He did not get close. He would have been a fool if he had. Instead he lingered behind the others, watching, waiting, and learning, leaning casually against a pillar of sandstone and mortar. A flash of sweat-soaked silver, the twist of a blinded serpent that fought against its restraints. It reminded him of the slavers and how they would parade their precious strumpets through town, as though overcompensating for the size of their man-bits. Raum’s arrogance swept over them before the usurper even uttered a word, and immediately the young thief disliked him. ’King.’ More like another shit-stain joining in this fucked country. One among many, majesty. Still, the stallion remained. Bandit was a steady, comfortable weight upon his brow, the ferret-dragon watching the scene unfold with notable apprehension. Roshan knew that his bonded was feeling; fear, uncertainty, anxiety… Bandit did not like this ‘Raum’, and neither did he. Raum spoke of Seraphina and how he had defeated her, leaving her dead and broken at the Steppe. An alabaster ear flicked forward, a look of genuine concern flickering across the thief’s face before it was gone. Interesting. There wasn’t a particularly strong sting at the loss. Roshan had never personally known Seraphina, but she had cared for the people of Solterra. She had fought for the plebians and peasants like himself, even though it had meant very little. Roshan did not need her help. He was living now just as he had been living then, but something of this ‘Raum’ felt off. Clearly he was a little unhinged, but this reminded him of the tales of Zolin, the boy-king. He wondered if Raum would throw a temper tantrum when someone inevitably came for his stolen crown. To steal what has already been stolen… Something sung in the thief’s blood at the aspect, something right. For a moment he thought of himself standing where Raum stood; strong, powerful, a ruler of men and women and King of a nation. It felt right. Oh, did the thought feel right, as though it was his right... Fuck that. The topic quickly went on. Almost too quickly, as though Raum was purposefully steering the topic away from Seraphina. Support his tyranny or be accused of treason? Yeah, right. The usurper brought up Denocte, and the painted thief immediately lost interest in the conversation. At least Seraphina had been straight and to the point. Listening to the way Raum spoke, Roshan was pretty confident that he liked to hear the sound of his own voice. There was no way he wanted to stick around and see the people squabble and ask their little questions. So long as their new ‘King’ left the black markets alone, he wouldn’t have a problem. With a flick of his tri-braided tail, Roshan was gone. He needed to find Vendetta. |
