there are many paths to tread
The two stallions stand there, neither flinching, neither yielding, one wrought from silver and one forged of gold. The sun slants down on them, catching the fine hairs of their pelts so that they dance with light like tongues of fire licking across their spines. It’s as if they’re a matching set; one wickedly sharp, made to harm; the other subtle and gleaming, made for show. But here in the desert, they both look deadly.
The heat of the sun, reflecting off the sands of the desert, is nearly suffocating. The oasis tempts him from a distance, promising shade and water and rest - but Toulouse doesn’t dare to move. There’s a tension he can see in Raum’s body, a serpentine coil to his neck. This one is made to strike, he thinks to himself, like a silver viper, swift and true. But did Raum see the same in him? Did he see the curve to his neck, the curl of his lips? Did he know that he, too, was dealing with a viper?
He almost smiles at the thought, but he catches himself in time.
He lets his eyes speak for him. My toys are secrets, they say, and I’ll find your’s soon enough. But his mouth stays as silent as the desert around them, despite the promise his eyes are screaming.
A line of sweat crests his flank, tracing a dark line through his golden coat. Overhead the vulture is circling, and its shadow passes over them momentarily. He can almost feel the wind from his wings, his mind conjuring false breezes to cool himself - but the shadow is replaced by the sun again, and he’s left feeling no less hot than before. Still, he waits.
Finally, Raum breaks the silence.
“Loyalty?” he says absent mindedly, his long tail flicking against the sand. “Why, loyalty is my middle name.”
He isn’t afraid to meet the king’s eyes, reveling in the peril and fury he finds reflected there. A smile splits the corners of his mouth, sly and subtle. “I live here, your grace.” A fact he still loathes, for the sun and sand is nearly enough to drive him mad, but one he’s far more willing to embrace now that a new silver specter sits the throne. Now that things were finally becoming interesting in this sand pit of heat... he could make himself quite at home in the Court.
“You wouldn’t want your loyal citizen to die of thirst, would you?” And again his eyes are filling in the blanks for him. You could use someone like me.
