[AW] slick like sunlight ;

[Maxence]

WE HOPE THAT YOU CHOKE THAT YOU CHOKE Immune to the drenching scent of decay upon the air, Maxence hastily soared over each rock and stacked stone that made up the monolithic walls of the Elatus Canyon. The stretched, sinking skin of the dead teryr was a pleasing sight to behold to the man who had struck it down, though, not pleasing enough to bring a smile to his frozen face - forever he scowled; his brows never raising and only ever bending to a relentless glare and, if ever he did smile, it was as rare as a red diamond. But his journey was at an end, his flight descending, and that was enough to at least ease a sigh from his thin, tightly pressed lips.  Reaching to the ground beneath with a foreleg first and followed by the other, then the final two, Maxence landed with a swoosh of his behemoth wings and a crumpling stamp of all four feet meeting the slab of sand and stone beneath. The entire movement was enough to create a brief sandstorm, the wind current bending to the will of those two falcon-shaped wings and sending sand, sticks and stones in an outwards burst - it was for this reason that he had landed a few hundred feet from the north side of the court buildings. He would hate to disturb any of it's inhabitants. Shrugging the lion's head that accompanied him back into place upon his rump and straightening his harness, Maxence had soon approached the new castle he had come to call home. It was quiet just like most days with only the howl of the wind and the gentle murmuring hum of another's voice near by, each to their own and going about their daily business and routine. Easily the sovereign observed two strangers, both men he had never beheld. A gilded grey and the other not dissimilar in colour but a dazzling mottled white - both seemed agreeable, albeit completely different. The darker wore jewels instead of scars and seemed right at home in a place where he was a stranger to the king; the other, Maxence was not so sure. But the commander would not stare forever and he fully intended to remedy the fact that they were strangers.  "You there" the commander bellowed, striding forth to meet them with his eternal bitchy-resting-face "Why have I not seen either of you before? Are you new to our barracks? Don't tell me you're flower pickers..." This question was mainly aimed toward the jewelled man and as he spoke, he took in a deep breath through his nose in an attempt to sniff out any tell-tale scents of the other courts. He still had a nasty prejudice against anyone from the Dawn Court. (aka. flower pickers.)  This entire place was, after all, a fortress. Everyone no matter which rank they worked in was a fighter - anyone who wasn't was as much as dead. Already Maxence had assumed their answer, and he didn't much care if they were not (It's not like they were tourists). "Names?" He then asked of them, sinking onto one of his back hips and allowing another leg to rest.  AND YOU CAN LAUGH  A SPINELESS LAUGH WE HOPE THAT YOU CHOKE THAT YOU CHOKE ✝

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