Voltaire
As the king spoke to Voltaire, he nodded in agreement. The desert was far from ideal when it came to medicinal plants. His time here had been limited, but already he’d begun to collect such plants where he could. Most, were not here… but he’d found the areas surrounding the Day Court to be much more fruitful. The blue stag reached around the side of his body, digging into a scarred leather satchel which hung carelessly at his side, drawing out a few pressed wildflowers he’d preserved a few days earlier. ”We may be low on resources, but our neighbors are not. I will lead an expedition, to search in the canyons and beyond for that which may be helpful for healing. Do not fear though, for while some pregnancies end naturally in stillbirth, a good number should be viable, even in a place such as this.”
His eyes sharpened and took note of Maxence’s uncomfortable reaction to his question, and for a moment, the denim stallion had to wonder what secrets he hid behind his heavy crown. But the crystal-horned male was anything but prying, and it wasn’t his place to challenge his king, or to poke his nose into places it didn’t belong. He follows the sovereign’s gaze toward the sun, making a mental observation that like Eden, everyone he’d met here seemed deeply religious. While the caretaker had never been much of a zealot, he knew enough to remember his place in the food chain. And the gods were on the top. Life had taught him that much.
”I thank Solis for showing me the way to this place, then.” His words were deferent as they should be, even if the firm conviction would take time to build. It wasn’t that Voltaire didn’t believe, more that he needed to know more. And, he intended to seek out a sage, to do just that.
His eyes sharpened and took note of Maxence’s uncomfortable reaction to his question, and for a moment, the denim stallion had to wonder what secrets he hid behind his heavy crown. But the crystal-horned male was anything but prying, and it wasn’t his place to challenge his king, or to poke his nose into places it didn’t belong. He follows the sovereign’s gaze toward the sun, making a mental observation that like Eden, everyone he’d met here seemed deeply religious. While the caretaker had never been much of a zealot, he knew enough to remember his place in the food chain. And the gods were on the top. Life had taught him that much.
”I thank Solis for showing me the way to this place, then.” His words were deferent as they should be, even if the firm conviction would take time to build. It wasn’t that Voltaire didn’t believe, more that he needed to know more. And, he intended to seek out a sage, to do just that.
Day Court Caretaker
@Maxence
