Usually, he did not chafe beneath the trappings of his princely blood. The fluctuation of being too cold and too sharp were as natural as breathing, as natural as the routine of braiding his har. Many had felt the icy brunt of his countenance and even more had felt the harsh whip of his tongue, without the Prince so much as batting an eyelash. Scoured to the bone beneath a tempestuous glare which silently threatened to shatter you from the inside out. It had never crossed his mind that he would aim even a fraction of the onslaught toward the Night King beside him now. Everything had been so natural, the shadowy game of cat and mouse in the dim candlelight and winding halls of the Night Palace. He chafed beneath the icy cloak, desperate to shed it. Yet he held fast, he had to, if only for a little longer. The water continued to wash against his delicate looking hooves, tangle it's sea salt grip against his wispy feathers and curled hair, pulling and tugging. Isorath had spent many a sunset staring out at the Ocean's grace, watching the tide and the sun dip on the horizon. Each one more beautiful than the last, each one more tragic. This wasn't the same though, he was not alone and his heart was far from the mournful mausoleum he once confessed it to be. A single lilac eye dared to peer beneath the thick fan of snow lashes at the stallion beside him, after the silence stretched, observing the smile that currently occupied the ruggedly handsome face he had come to adore. A bat of his long lashes passed between them and once more he stared out on the horizon, and just for a moment, a ghost of a smile pressed against his lips. A breath carefully exhaled caught somewhere between the start of a laugh and an ending of a sigh. If he had seen the blood which painted it, he had the decorum to not mention it, at least for now. Instead, he relished the moment, tension and all. Allowed the silver gaze of the Crow King to wander and the smile to blossom as his heart similarly lurched and ignited within his chest. So much had transpired. So many questions threatened to roll off his tongue, followed by a thousand curses. The regent hadn't known what awaited him, what would await him in the days that followed. Rejection perhaps? He could endure a Sovereign's fury, but not that. Not again. He had feared that Reichenbach might send him away, feared that he still would take wing and ascend back to the heavens. Neither things happened, and the tension which raised his scales slowly receeded, like the tide upon the shore. I couldn't find the right partner. "Is that so?" He replied softly, appeased and concerned all at once. "Could they not keep up? Or is there only one partner the Night King desires?" Words feather light, with a hint of teasing somewhere in their musical notes. Another beat and gradually the Kirin shifted, enough so he could tilt his frame toward the shadow crowned one beside his own. A silent boon, a subtle search for the affection that his fracture ridden heart sought. "I must confess, I do not know any courtly dance that involves blood." @Reichenbach <3 |
