[AW] of dust and sandstorms

[Maxence]

MAXENCE LOOKING UP FOR HEAVEN "I am Florentine" She had spoken, a voice as light and lithe as a flower petal and much much too delicate for the walls of the Elatus canyon. With the smell of death and decay strong on the air and a musk of nothing other than the sinking skin of a rotting Elder Teryr  hanging high and dry upon the wind, Maxence stood proud and ready to meet the representative of a court of flowers and sunsets. A dusk court Emissary was she, and it seemed she came cloaked in the very likeness her homeland was named for. While she was fairy-like and perhaps, from his angle, the epitome of innocence, she did still seem shrouded in mystery and a cloak of night. Perhaps this doe-eyed creature wasn't from the field of flowers at all. At her suggestion - no, request - that he swing to her lower storey among the canyon floor he could do naught but give a gruff, dismissing snort. That could very well mean death for someone who relied greatly on his wings for combat; should it be an ambush he would be as good as blindfolded and bound should he submit his wings to those canyon walls. It was not a request he could acquiesce or even entertain. "Or," the soldier would begin as he turned upon his hocks and crossed the stone bridge he stood upon, walking over the heights of the gorge to reveal the lay of the land to the grounded doe. "You could just flitter up here." To his right there lay a path, steep and treacherous with an abundance of loose rocks and false footing. From her location it was perhaps the quickest way out of Elatus' fingers, unless she would prefer to spend another few hours recounting her steps. Recalling her introduction and seeing as it seemed she had a bit of walking to do before she could reach his height at the top of the canyon, Maxence instead decided he ought to continue their conversation. He'd prefer to not leave her with a horrid impression that he was tiresome and nagging.  "How fares Our Lady Ranneveig?" he uttered with reverence almost quite convincingly. In truth he cared not one ounce for the newly elected Queen of the west as he had never set eyes on the woman or heard anything about her other than whispers here and there. They said she took the appearance of a dusk sky and was painted with moons. No doubt she was an astonishing woman to behold, however Maxence was hardly the kind to be swayed even by the most awe-inspiring beauty. I LOVE this thread and I completely adore your writing! @Florentine