Rufio,
The boy has little admiration to offer to a desert king for a land he gave less than two shits about, but he knew better than to play with fire. There is something just ominous enough in Raum’s tone that has him biting his tongue, chewing on the inside of his cheek until the sanguine taste of blood meets the grinding of his teeth. It is little more than a reminder to the boy, to watch himself. Rufio never did have much class, but he should have the common sense to carry himself with a bit more astuteness in a strange place.
For several moments, the red and black colt is silently sulking, his silver eyes roaming curiously over Legion in particular, as he ponders the circumstances that led to the lizard being blinded by what Rufio could only assume to be his master. What is he, anyway? He shifts the conversation away from himself as only an uncomfortable child can, taking a step away from Legion as he hissed once more and fought against the chains. There is something untamed and feral in the beast, something that has Rufio standing a bit wary in his presence. There is something that hints at more than a little danger.
I’m not going to bow. he offer stubbornly, finally giving Raum a snarky sort of half smile. I don’t bow to anyone… it’s nothing personal. Still, he would begrudgingly offer a tenuous respect to Raum, if only for the fact that he tamed the basilisk. Walking ahead, he sank deep into the sand, grumbling as it pressed deep into the black of his fur and beneath his golden chains. How anyone could think this land a paradise was far beyond him. Without knowing the history of Solterra and the lore, it was simply a wasteland to his eyes.
Does the king have a name? He looks back at the pale stallion, mischief banked within his eyes, hiding beneath their exterior a boy more lost than found. There is promise in his gaze, and potential just waiting to be reined in, harnessed for some larger purpose… but it would take a heavy hand to get him there, and Rufio wasn’t exactly a cordial sort. Perhaps Raum would see past his haughtiness, to find the utility in the boy… or perhaps it wasn’t worth the effort.
mischief managed.
@Raum | "speaks" | notes:
