Rufio,
Where in the fuck was he? Rufio wasn’t sure, as he walked from the golden deserts deeper into the Day Court. A scowl crossed his face, and his red and black tail flicked agitatedly against him, as if to chase away invisible flies. Sand stung at this eyes, creeping into his every crevice with an annoying sort of bristling, and Rufio hated it here immediately. He longed for the sea and the wash of water on the golden sand. For the green, and for the brightly colored birds who sang and mimicked everything they heard. For a moment, he might have even longed for the lost boys – lost to time once more – but then, that moment passes.
Heat beats down on the stallion, and he grumbles as he shifts his weight, golden adornments jingling as a teasing wind hints at playfulness. The breeze seems only to spite him though, as he licks his parched lips and marches onward, hooves clattering on the stone which seemed to trail from sand. Here, the land became more refined… a city of sorts… a capital. Though he did not know that he was in the Day Court, Rufio had the sense to know that he was growing closer to civilization. So he stood a little straighter, and his silver eyes focused a little harder on what might lurk around the next bend.
The city seems abandoned as he walks through the sandstone buildings, cobbled streets empty as the straggling kingdom made their way toward Raum. Rufio had no notion of what was going on, and what had happened before his arrival… but as he grew nearer to the voices in the distance, he began to hear whispers. Rounding a final corner, the red and black stallion paused to watch a gathering crowd, to listen to the growing murmurs with mild interest.
It seemed that a new king was rising on this place. His tired eyes fall on Raum, more curious at the beast by his side than the stallion’s own bloodstained frame. Raum himself is rather unremarkable, and there is a hint of weariness to him as he addresses the crowd with brimstone in his voice and hatred in his eyes. Flicking a slender dark ear toward him, Rufio simply listens. He does not pledge fealty, and frankly, he doesn’t really give a shit about the politics in this place. If anything, the stallion was an outsider with no desire to stick around for long. He had a home, even if Neverland had been folded up in the time warp. He intended to find his way back, and to be left alone.
So he simply stands there, wondering what might come next, drawn toward the drama with a hint of curiosity in his breast. And Rufio waits.
mischief managed.
@Raum | "speaks" | notes:
