![[Image: lothaire_chibi2_by_outofthefurnace-dbkx9cu.png]](https://orig09.deviantart.net/50c2/f/2017/234/4/0/lothaire_chibi2_by_outofthefurnace-dbkx9cu.png)
The emissary was not accustomed to such heat, even under the looming shade of the court he could feel Solis' scald and with a slow movement he turned his head toward the sky which streamed through wide windows; wondering, inquisitive. Did the God of solar and diurnality resent his presence here in the halls of his great palace? His amorphous gaze did not burn nor incinerate like Avdotya's, instead it hummed, lightless and cogent - rolling back to the woman's frame as she emptied syllables into the air. Nomadic tribes, ancient residents of the Mors. If Lothaire had possessed ordinary ears they might have twitched forward in cool interest, instead he can only lift his thickset skull, dark eyelashes grazing against the highset bone of his cheek. Her answer is brief, almost concealed - not that he had expected anything else from this warrior queen. She did not seem the type to unearth all the terrible ways her people had been decimated to a stranger, a stranger of Denocte no less. That did not curtail his morbid curiosity, mind.
He neglects to question her further, allowing instead for the regent to loose a query of her own. Avdotya pairs it with a smile that Lo observes impassively, knowing better than to take it for warmth. "I could never have imagined I would find myself in the position I determine today. Denocte is almost as foreign to me as it is to you." The serpentine man remembers the darkness, and the cold, he remembers his mother's bitterness until it was perhaps all that he could remember. Alone and perpetual he had existed - a child without name or design. "Such is life." Lothaire walks forward a pace, casting a sweeping iron stare around the Solterran hall before turning back to Avdotya so that his stare bores now into her. For a moment he is silent, wearing the ambiguity across his broad shoulders. When his speaks this time it is quieter, thicker. "Do you not find it suffocating here? In these hot stone walls?" Solterra's castle was, to Lothaire, just that. Though fiercely grand he could not shake the tightness around his throat, longing once more for the soft embrace of shadow and gloom. There was no insult in his tone, only an aloof regard for truth. He had come, perhaps not in the name of Night Court, but instead to serve his own calculating curiosity.
ooc: @avdotya
He neglects to question her further, allowing instead for the regent to loose a query of her own. Avdotya pairs it with a smile that Lo observes impassively, knowing better than to take it for warmth. "I could never have imagined I would find myself in the position I determine today. Denocte is almost as foreign to me as it is to you." The serpentine man remembers the darkness, and the cold, he remembers his mother's bitterness until it was perhaps all that he could remember. Alone and perpetual he had existed - a child without name or design. "Such is life." Lothaire walks forward a pace, casting a sweeping iron stare around the Solterran hall before turning back to Avdotya so that his stare bores now into her. For a moment he is silent, wearing the ambiguity across his broad shoulders. When his speaks this time it is quieter, thicker. "Do you not find it suffocating here? In these hot stone walls?" Solterra's castle was, to Lothaire, just that. Though fiercely grand he could not shake the tightness around his throat, longing once more for the soft embrace of shadow and gloom. There was no insult in his tone, only an aloof regard for truth. He had come, perhaps not in the name of Night Court, but instead to serve his own calculating curiosity.
ooc: @avdotya
