If i'm your salvation,
welcome to hell
Luvena, Luvena, Luvena. The name swirled around his mind, its presence digging claws into his consciousness. Abrin's ears remained tilted towards her lips as she talked. Her words carried a neutral tone, but the sound was nice, at least to him. It was soft and sounded as though with a small breeze it could be carried away, but simultaneously gave the stallion the feeling as though if the wind on a peaceful spring day had a voice, it would be her's.
While he enjoyed listening to her words, his eyes couldn't help but find their way to her shaking legs. With a small backwards glance to her face, he knew right away Luvena would prove to be quite interesting. She was trying so had to stand tall, to be unwavering in the face of him, of a creature known to be wicked and cruel, a creature who was most likely to view kindness as something beneath them. He would expect no less from a queen.
There was a part of him that found amusement in the expectation of his death. Her words held a bit of truth - creatures like him don't last long, but yet here he was, like a damn cockroach. "Yet, here I am. Against all odds," Abrin mused. He listened to her continue on with the lilt of her words remaining oddly charming. He hadn't seen any of her experiences as queen first hand, but he had certainly heard rumors for the little bit of time he had remained in Elysium when she was in power. Most were a tad outlandish, but none had ever really spoken too optimistically of her health. "Give yourself more credit. I've heard some interesting things from some less than credible sources, but I feel like it's almost the duty of a queen or king to prove such things wrong." There was a small pause as he thought over his words and during that moment he took a small break from circling Luvena and in a moment of testing her once more, he ever so gently poked her with his nose, his eyes locked on her face the entire time. It was barely a brush right behind her elbow, about where the girth would be placed. Being close was one thing, but being comfortable with even the smallest touch? It was as if the two stood a the edge of a ravine and Abrin had dared to jump. Would she keep her cool? Would she flinch away? She seemed like the type who could be moved with the slightest shove, but that wasn't the stallion's intent. He wanted to see where her line was. Where the boundary that he could never cross would be. Maybe it was a bit childish, but knowing boundaries gave Abrin so much more insight on those around him.
Not waiting for a response, Abrin let words slip from his dark lips, "Those that followed Heretic often do meet death earlier than most, but it seems that either I'm clever enough to outsmart fate or the gods have something truely cruel planned for me yet." There was a moment of hesitation as if Abrin almost didn't want to ask the nest question, but found the question escaping him anyways. His words were a bit teasing, in a hissing, pressuring tone, "Tell me Luvena, knowing who I am and what sort of creatures I led, do you wish I had died along with Elysium?"
@Luvena
