R
The civil unrest hadn't gone unnoticed, even in the furthest reaches of Denocte. The Raven's had come and gone, penned by informants and the worried alike. Wolf Knight in turn, had prolonged his ride to the Capital for as long as possible, instead moonstone eyes turned toward the mountains, pensive and concerned. Solterra had always been an issue for the Night Kingdom, and many of his people still bore the scars from that, Dusk on the other hand — now that was a new one.Only when it had become apparent that the Pass was safe, for now, he'd turned his eyes toward the four walls he'd used to call home. How long had it been? Too long. Too long since their banners had flown and their laughter had joined the rest of them. Too long since maids and lads alike had braided flowers in his hair as he readied himself for his moment infront of the crowds. Ready to fell or be felled.
Yet, for all that ache, the itch beneath his skin that begged to be scratched, there is no spectacle when the Knight's finally approached the Capital. The silver bay had continued on when his party had veered off toward the taverns, tuberoses and orchids in his hair and gold which glittered warmly in the light. Better to let the Commander deal with the politics, they'd all joked and gruffawed, better to let the Commander take the fall so you can drink, he had replied with a smirk.
It appeared that he'd arrived at an opportune moment in the meeting, as Guards showed him the way, not that he needed to. He had spent many a season as a young colt, with scraped knees and bruised shoulders. Renwick remembered it all fondly, every scratch and every cheeky word he'd muttered under his breath. The Knight easily slipped among the folk toward the back, taking up against one of the ivy laced statues.
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