The past year has been one overwhelming blur. Recently, the earth seems to orbit in a more assuring circle, though the uncertainty does occasionally settle uncomfortably at the bottom of Litotes’ stomach. An aspect that does make sense, at least, is Castile’s waiting to see if the cremello sticks around post-sentence before offering him a position. Though his desires were not met, the lion-man tempered his restless anger and found respect for the dragon’s patience.
When Castile approaches him, he can sense that it may be for something more than a typical conversation in passing. He cocks a single brow as the King draws ever closer, that same kindred spirit from their first encounter vibrating between them.
Most of Lie’s time in Loess is spent as a lion, but the tobiano male caught him on a rare day. Perhaps as he grows more comfortable within this land he will take to his natural form - today being a reflection of that sentiment.
“Castile,” the cremello rumbles back, the silver of his muzzle glittering as his lips move. A subtle, twisted smile rests upon his maw. Business it is, then: the way his King stares him down gives away the nature of their meeting. The small smile he holds blossoms into a bigger one, a smile that is cold and probably should not exist. Whatever purpose Castile has, Litotes hopes it will give him something to do other than wander the Loess borders.
He listens with a cocked head and an eager earnestness, his pleasure with King’s offer clear in the way his face relaxes.
“A wise decision,” he murmurs, casting twinkling eyes to the surroundings just beyond Castile. He turns back to the dragon-man, eyes hardening to prospective steel. “Who amongst us is a warrior? I do not mind recruiting; in fact, I would prefer to vet them myself. But if you have any in mind, I will set a meeting for them.”
He clears his throat, a low lion’s growl emitting from his partially open lips.
“Loess needs an army.” Lie’s eyes grow even steelier, narrowing to slits - then suddenly, as if the darkness behind those lids never existed, he breaks into a devilish grin. “Beqanna needs a change - or rather, the current leaders need . . . to find a new direction. Perhaps a Loessian army can set that in motion.
@[Castile] my html is being weird : (
When Castile approaches him, he can sense that it may be for something more than a typical conversation in passing. He cocks a single brow as the King draws ever closer, that same kindred spirit from their first encounter vibrating between them.
Most of Lie’s time in Loess is spent as a lion, but the tobiano male caught him on a rare day. Perhaps as he grows more comfortable within this land he will take to his natural form - today being a reflection of that sentiment.
“Castile,” the cremello rumbles back, the silver of his muzzle glittering as his lips move. A subtle, twisted smile rests upon his maw. Business it is, then: the way his King stares him down gives away the nature of their meeting. The small smile he holds blossoms into a bigger one, a smile that is cold and probably should not exist. Whatever purpose Castile has, Litotes hopes it will give him something to do other than wander the Loess borders.
He listens with a cocked head and an eager earnestness, his pleasure with King’s offer clear in the way his face relaxes.
“A wise decision,” he murmurs, casting twinkling eyes to the surroundings just beyond Castile. He turns back to the dragon-man, eyes hardening to prospective steel. “Who amongst us is a warrior? I do not mind recruiting; in fact, I would prefer to vet them myself. But if you have any in mind, I will set a meeting for them.”
He clears his throat, a low lion’s growl emitting from his partially open lips.
“Loess needs an army.” Lie’s eyes grow even steelier, narrowing to slits - then suddenly, as if the darkness behind those lids never existed, he breaks into a devilish grin. “Beqanna needs a change - or rather, the current leaders need . . . to find a new direction. Perhaps a Loessian army can set that in motion.
@[Castile] my html is being weird : (
