When the days grow cold-[OFFSPRING;any]

[Nymphetamine]

Of all the evil forms of torture his new king could have chosen, Killdare had to go and choose an early morning wake up. The late autumn air was crisp as I inhaled sharply and the crisp air struck my lungs. I look over at the muscled King that had gone through a drastic makeover when he became king, but the magma suited him. Killdare was no longer just the winged beast that he had haughtily poked at during his slightly younger years. He was different, no longer did he feel like the mindless muscle of the Queen. Not that he ever was actually mindless, but Nymph was working with some preconceptions when he met the then Lord. The necromancer's voice fell groggy and raspy after a night of rest, "Feel the need for some early morning snark, my lord? You know I'm always willing to oblige. His mouth curled up in half smile. Their friendship was tense at times and was on average prickly. But under the surface, the blood bay had learned to trust, and even like the once lord and now king.

Killdare hadn't outright discussed with him the events that brought him to Chamber, the secret that came to the surface before he killed Rapscallion. In the end, Nymph had chosen Chamber and that must have been enough for his king. Killdare didn't wait long before moving out, and Nymph pulled himself up and followed. His cold muscles stiff from a long night but soon he was up and going, The silence between them was only minorly awkward, and Nymph didn't mind the silence, but as they left Chamber and their journey kept getting colder, the stallion wondered what Killdare needed him for. "So what's this about Killdare? Trying to make me a wooly mammoth? He jested (as usual) but he was seriously curious what the king had in mind. Maybe he had forgotten his place in Chamber's peace caste had been a facade, and he had never actually done anything diplomatic.

Either way, the conjurer had been chosen for the task and he would do as his king commanded. As the temperature dipped even further south they slowed to a halt, at the border of Tundra. Nymphetamine would follow his King's direction and lead, he just hoped he upheld his purpose.

Nymphetamine

in my heart, that barless prison
discolours all with tunnel vision