 WE HOPE THAT YOU CHOKE
THAT YOU CHOKE
While he had flown on ahead of the pack there was certainly no keeping Maxence from watching his flock. With one eye on the landscape unfolding ahead and another on those who followed his trek beneath, the lion king's doubts clawed and scratched their way at his mind. Should these deliberations go south there really was no one to turn to, though there really was no reason why they shouldn't if he was just his usual pleasant self. There should be no reason for the queen of fields and flowers to rescind allegiance.
Most of all it was those who followed him that he wished to keep in good favor. Should he lead anyone astray he'd surely have his own head and allow failure and ridicule to eat at him for all the wars to come. Were they foolish to put their trust in him? Maxence was certain they were all completely mad to chose him, even completely insane at times, but as each day passed the more he found himself at home. They were becoming his comrades, his brethren.
Perhaps that was why the Dusk Queen's opinion and approval mattered so much to the brute; The lion somehow assumed her good wishes would equal approval and a sign that he was doing the right thing by those countrymen who bled in the sand beside him.
The fields came first, then the craggy building of the Dusk Court. A romantic scene, perhaps the loveliest he'd seen since setting foot in this continent, but he hadn't come here to admire architecture. Cirlcing once around the building with wings of an entire hurrcane and beating his hooves once upon the slate roof of the castle's spire, Maxence made his presence known. Landing with a steady thud in a near-by field, cropped tail and lion's head flopping gently onto his rump with the rest of his uniform, Maxence turned to look across to the horizon to the very edges of the grass sea where he hoped to find those he'd brought with him from Solterra. "Where is the lady Rannveig?" the commander chanted toward to Dusk Court walls, a scowling frown taking up every inch of his face. He was by no means angry or in any sort of mood (except save for being terribly exhausted from the flight) - a horrid frown was literally just his resting face. "I await" he boomed finally, taking his strides in a short circled to lace his way away from the court buildings and into the field near by. It was not uncommon for Maxence to forget formalities, titles and so forth, and it did not pass his mind that nay who looked upon him was unlikely to have any clue who he was. Perhaps the sovereign of Solterra was the last one would pick him as. AND YOU CAN LAUGH
A SPINELESS LAUGH
WE HOPE THAT YOU CHOKE
THAT YOU CHOKE
✝
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@Rannveig
