The surest sign of strength
that I have ever seen
is gentleness
The Sovereign's quiet nonchalance is somehow more intimidating than if he'd been stereotypical, loud and domineering. It's unexpected, drawing the mule even farther into unfamiliar territory, and utterly unreadable, leaving tiny moments of emptiness between them, the monarch's lack of reaction as silent visually as any thoughts he might have are audibly. Only one ear gently tipped in the mules direction gives him any indication of being heard over the delicate beauty of ivy and flowers, and it's precious little in the face of his anxiety.that I have ever seen
is gentleness
Conversely, Willfur is - and has always been - an open book. He values honesty and he offers it without reserve as a consequence, in everything that he does, but especially his feelings, which are deep and uncompromising. He does not hide his uncertainty, nor the way that his eyes follow only the tricolored lines of brow and shoulder beside him, all concern for the castle and its treasures temporarily forgotten. That so many do hide their emotions and hold their inner machinations shrouded behind diversion and omission has always been an unnerving - if begrudgingly accepted - truth to him. It's as if they attempt to conceal the real them and present something else, something other, leading to the question of why? and secondarily, where do they get the energy?
He fidgets, a small bell tinkling quietly from the fraying braid in his tail, the noise a welcome distraction. He should redo that, he thinks, eyeing the neatly spaced button braids along the other stallion's neck when at last, he's answered, and not with the accusation or annoyance he's feared. There is no test, no scouring of resumes or bargaining against perceived offenses. It's as if the other stallion has known all along about the mule in his midst - how could he miss him, really - and accepted his presence long ago. Maybe he has, to already know his name and what he's been up to. Perhaps Thana... well, he's heard some things, but he's too polite to ask and it's not his business, anyway.
"Yes!" He confirms, "And th-an-k you!" The high, splitting syllable almost catches in his throat, almost, but he swallows it down, relief thick and sweet on his tongue. "Really, thank you." It seems like such a simple thing, and maybe it is, but he's grateful nonetheless. To him, it is a big thing. It's the only thing he's truly wanted in a long time.
"Oh, I've met a few unpleasant sorts," He admits, the auburn streak down his back twitching out of line, memories of bat fangs and trickster ghosts, angry, red-streaked mares and golden eyed stallions with a bit too keen an interest still fresh in his mind. "But for the most part Novus is full of bright and interesting characters. I like to think I learn something new from each of them, and I enjoy it."
Relaxed and unguarded now, he's at a loss when Ipomoea's final comment lands, deceptively casual, yet heavy with meaning. "A champion?" He repeats, frowning slightly, one ear falling humorously askew in thought. "I'm... I don't have a particular set of skills, but I'm a friendly face." He smiles to illustrate. "Sometimes that helps diffuse things, a little. I have a strong shoulder and a keen ear. I like to think and observe things, and I like people, despite their best efforts to be unlikable at times. If any of that sounds like something you could use, I'm happy to offer it."
@Ipomoea <3
