[P] the worth of passions pledged —

[Lothaire]

Reichenbach's sparrow-child had come to Lothaire as midnight splintered and shattered across the sky, whispering a message which, of course, disturbed his curiosity. Like a serpent unfurling from a deep slumber he stirred in the cool, clustered lashes brushing against cheekbones carved from marble and apathy. It had been but a few days since the Sovereign's coronation but still celebration poured across region. The happiness of a clandestine people was a beautiful spectacle to witness, Lothaire could attest to that even if he had not participated as such. It seemed to the reptilian man that Reichenbach was as suitable for the role of monarch as any Night Courtian could possibly be; his eyes were home to galaxies, his laughter was a beacon against the darkness of Calligo's grief, and most of all, his heart was as wide and as wavering the ocean lapping at Denocte's skin. Lothaire could almost hear its intense song whenever he watched the sable king; it told a tale of blistering truth - a harp thrumming incessantly to the beat of its own drum. 

Lothaire identified the voice of Camdis long before he crested the rolling slope above Vitreus Lake, pausing against the skyline as he did so. An imposing figure was he. The pair below stood at a comfortable distance from each other, one ochre - one bloodied rouge, and Lo could not help but read something close to heat radiating in the chasm between them. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; perhaps he didn't want to. The thought was compartmentalised and locked away as he began to descend, his mile long limbs gliding smoothly as ever until coming to a slow halt a few feet from his companions. And there he hung in the deafeningly thick silence - wall-eyed, contemplative, and most utterly peculiar. 

@reichenbach @camdis ooc: crappy but wanted to get something up!