Somnus  Good. Hopefully it would remain that way. The weight of a crown was a burden no one should carry alone, but she was strong. “I do hope so,” he answered with bob of his head, “But with our military ranks so thinned, I believe he is wary to leave our borders unattended. I’ve begun to fear I might have to drag him from the watchtower. It’s a miracle he hasn’t simply begun to wither away.” Their dear friend did need to get out more, sequestered away within the citadel and outlying lands as he was. A rueful grin tore at the dunalino’s face and he could not hide the chuckle that rippled from the depths of his breast. “I believe your charm and wit will be incredibly rejuvenating for him.” With all things Florentine, as it were, their conversation did not remain stagnant for too long. Inevitably she pulled away, all lavender petals and wild golden tresses, and there was a gleam in her eyes that caused both trepidation and eagerness to alight within his veins. Somnus rose a brow and parted his lips to speak, to question, but like a wild, untamable thing, the Dusk Queen was off. ’Come, Somnus! I have something to show you!’ It was so like her to simply dart ahead, much like when they had ventured the mysterious paths of the maze so many months ago. Just as he had been then, Somnus was left behind, left to scramble at the snow with surprised emerald eyes, lips parted in surprise. “Ah, Florentine!” His words, just as they had then, fell upon deaf ears, and the flabbergasted Regent had no other choice but to follow. ”Wait!” Scrabbling in the snow, hooves pressed forward, mottled wings outstretching with poise and elegance. He took one loping stride forward, then two, wings lifting before sweeping downwards in a mighty arc, the momentum enough to drag the tactician into the sky with a plume of powdery snow crystals erupting in his wake. Curiosity pulled at him. What was it? By her joy, whatever she wished to bequeath to him held no ill-intent. Perhaps it was a sad truth that he immediately thought the worst. No matter. Up, up, up they go, two golden beams errant from the confines of the sun, rebellious, sunlight personified. “Flora!” He beckoned over the wind rushing in their ears, the rarely used nickname strained in the melodious lilt of his accent, “Where is it that we are going?” It seemed she would never cease surprising him, ruffling his typically proper and professional demeanor, and just as before, he hoped that she never would. |
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--"Sure we'll be there." Somnus says, as I fail one million ways and the Festival is now over. ;-; I'm so sorry for the wait!
