anywhere i go; magnus and/or any

[magnus]

although this world is made of fearsome beasts that bark and bite
we were born to put these creatures through one hell of a fight

Magnus has never been a wanderer either. He was born and raised by a King and Queen of old; taught and trained from a young age about the importance of kingdoms and the responsibilities that come with a crown. He was reared in the way of princes and that regal training was still apparent in his traditional approach to running a kingdom, to interacting with other lands, to introducing himself. It was a formality in the way he holds himself, something that whispers of the old world in the gleam of his golden eyes.

If only he knew the way that his path and Hestoni’s have run parallel and overlapped over the years. How they are both men of the jungle. How Magnus’ daughter Brunhild both gave Hestoni’s greatest love her crown and then her latest challenge—how the latter was the source of such pain in the red man’s life.

But he doesn’t know such things.

He just knows that there is a stallion resting on the edge of his home, and he finds that he is grateful for the stallion’s decorum, even though Tephra has always been a land with open borders. Still, he respects it and he doesn’t take his time in making his way toward the stallion. His face is friendly although relatively neutral, the scars peeking out beneath the gold of his coat. “Hello there,” he greets, the ash and the smoke deepening his whiskey voice. He drops his head into a nod and gives the other stallion a hint of a smile.

“Welcome to Tephra.”

The land around them is vibrant in the summer heat, the flowers still blooming and the leaves glossy.

“My name is Magnus. How can I help you today?”

magnus

@[Hestoni]