[P] bearer of news

[Isorath]

I S O R A T H A QUOTE FOR ISORATH here is a comfort in familiarity. It was almost like slipping into an old, well worn but still comfortable, as he settled in his old nook in the library. It had been left as he remembered it, the incense burner lingered on the windowsill, and the books he'd pulled off the shelves were still stacked by the inkpot and quill he'd used to take notes. Perhaps they'd expected him back, and had simply let it be. Maybe they had spotted the way the winged Kirin had looked at their Sovereign, how his features had softened after every interaction. It wouldn't be too far a guess, to know that the Kirin would of returned, given those soft lingering looks. There you are. He had been reading something on the first Sovereign of Denocte, when that soft silken voice reached his ears. Lilac eyes flicked up immediately and settled on the all too familiar frame. "Araxes," He greeted softly, before his own laugh joined hers at the mention of the book he'd been reading, "I might have, but I'm rather smitten with the way the author has described the King." Isorath mused, before a taloned claw gestured for her to sit, once his eyes slid away from her face to the noticable swell of her sides. I'm hoping to convince you to impart some of your teas to me, Isorath. "Say no more, come, sit and I will prepare us tea and get you those notes." It wouldn't do to have her stand around, and Isorath himself rose to his hooves to pull one of his books from the small shelf behind him. He'd documented his own recipes and notes from other books he'd found. "I do have some prepared in my rooms, I can have those sent to you as well as give you the ones in my chest here." Isorath stated, as he settled down back on his pillows and began to scrawl on a piece of parchment. "My mother was particularly fond of drinking nettle and mint tea's while she carried my sister. I can still smell it if I think about it for too long. I hope you don't mind that the tea is chamomile?" He recalled with a huff, adding that to the gradually growing ink already scribed. His teke reached out in a separate tendril, to begin to bring the kettle that always lingered nearby to boil, before turning his attention to the cups. "Is the father the same one who fathered Cynix and Siavax?" He inquired lightly, his head tilted a fraction to the side. "Are they excited to have another sibling?" TAG: @Araxes NOTES: <3 "this here is your speech colour!