The surest sign of strength
that I have ever seen
is gentleness
Footsteps ring on the stone and mortar of the castle's crumbling floor. It's a lonely, hollow sound that bounces off the walls, reverberating through empty rooms and passageways as if searching, calling for something, longing for a response. Willfur doesn't answer, but he does listen, both ears standing tall and swiveling slowly to follow the echo as it travels, but then it abruptly stops. Quiet returns to the fortress.that I have ever seen
is gentleness
Like a cat whose attention is struck more by the sudden stillness of a stimulus than by its expected movement, the mule is suddenly curious, though he resists it. Aside from the now absent former sovereign - And why had he left? Was there something they should have noticed, some sign of what was to come? - he's never found anyone else roaming the halls, sticking their big, blocky heads into dusty rooms and long forgotten corners, least of all in the early, dim hours before morning, which is kind of ironic, given the name of their Court.
Whoever it was seemed to know where they were going, judging by the evenness of their steps. They never hesitated or doubled back, he would have heard if they had. That's even more intriguing, given the small number of horses who bother to enter the castle at all, far fewer than visit the library or the gardens. There can't be many who are so familiar...
"Oh, alright." He sighs, starting off in the direction of the last, diminishing echoes. He's not sure why he even had to convince himself. Usually he loves to make new acquaintances, to explore and examine anything novel in the area - or out of it, as he also loves to travel - but this morning he'd just stood there, stock-still, totally unreceptive to a presented interest, almost guarded against it.
How strange, he thinks, and what if they had been lost, lonely, looking for something? Isn't it his job to assist in any way he can? But then he wonders if he does still have a job, with the majority of the governing ranks abandoned. "I shouldn't care so much," He murmurs, "Either way." Being given the title didn't make him who he is and losing it wouldn't unmake him either. He's let too much of the general turmoil get to him, he decides, and what better way to push back than to pleasantly introduce himself to this mystery visitor, to keep the same precedent he always has?
"Hello?" He calls, standing politely outside the door to one of the rarely used housing suites, a sound of rustling and furniture being scraped across the floor signaling his mystery visitor is inside. There's an overwhelming scent of dust, dry and choking. "Do you need any help?"
