S O M N U S
"What if I fall?"
"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?"
Charlemagne. That is the name of the elegant stranger standing before him now, the young, dapper chestnut stallion, drawing himself up to mimic Somnus' own profile, standing tall, proud, and at attention. Formal.
Controlled. Body posture was a language all its own, and over the years, Somnus had become quite the master at reading it. Although shorter than the tactician, Charlemagne exuded the same proficient capabilities that he had come to expect from a learned fellow, his tongue eloquent, mannerisms impeccable, and respect utmost.
It set the winged dunalino at ease, knowing he was in capable, intelligent company, and, hopefully, in the company of one who could answer his listless questions. However, he knew better than to make immediate assumptions. Such notions had gotten him into ill tidings back in his younger years, and Somnus truly did not wish for any repeat performances. Such mistakes were below him now, as the golden stallion would not accept anything from himself save for
perfection.
It seemed that his query as to Charlemagne's profession was rather abrupt, for the chestnut unicorn appeared momentarily baffled or taken aback by his boldness. Regret blossomed anew within Somnus' breast, worry nudging its way into the back of his skull. Had he presumed incorrectly? Indeed, it seemed, that he
had, much to his chagrin, but Charlemagne did not seem to mind the flub. Instead, the young gentleman chuckles almost breathlessly, his smile rueful and somewhat coy, mirth shining in those wise emerald depths, and admits that he, too, is new to the Dawn Court. He
also admits to be a scholar, and that sent a passionate thrill through the winged stallion and settled amidst his gut in a satisfying way.
Good.
Good. Another he could coerce into late-night debates with, perhaps? It was hard to say, especially so early into their brief relationship.
"Ah," Somnus began, his tone noticeably apologetic,
"My apologies. It was rude of me to assume, I fear." But he
had gained some valuable information between the exchange. Their sovereign was named
Kasil, and Somnus thought it odd that he was not out to greet those who ventured their way to his Court. Perhaps, in the following days, he would encounter this Kasil on his own and make his own greetings. After all, Somnus had not come to the point in his life where he was now by simply standing idle and letting the world pass him by.
"No, I am afraid not, good Charlemagne. Nothing pressing at all. I am simply here to hopefully serve the Dawn Court in any feat which I can, as well as hopefully one day settle and call this place my home. I am a learned scholar myself, and I wished to speak to his Lordship in regards to serving his Court with a sharp mind and tongue." They were, after all, far more useful to Somnus than the ruffling wings upon his shoulders or the spear of his horn, as he had never been much of a soldier. A strong mind could be far more precious than a strong weapon, after all.
Deciding to steer the conversation towards Charlemagne's own intentions and hoping to further understand the complexity of his brain, Somnus finally allowed himself to relax. His wings, great large feathers of amber speckled with alabaster tips, loosened their holds against pale flaxen sides, hanging far more relaxed than they had only moments before. Likewise, the golden tactician soothed his body, muscles uncoiling, and with a flick of an ivory tail upon a dorsal striped rump, did Somnus continue.
"And what brought you here, good Charlemagne? You claim that you are also recent to the Court... May I ask, what drew you to this hilltop?"
