From afar, it is clear that Rodrik is obviously displeased. A stormy look dances on my face in the moments between our first words, one which reflects everything upon the bay's handsome face. I understand what he is feeling, if not from personal experience then from knowing him so intimately. When his the skin beneath his eyes crinkle and his dark lips stretch into a smile, my golden face does the same. Copycat, one might say, but I say: fuck you.

"I keep asking myself why that is; it seems that the universe simply cannot keep us apart." The jibe bounces lightly off of his statement, the red hews in my amber eyes lightening as the tension between us fades - for the moment. A chuckle rumbles from deep within me as I step forward to nip Rodrik's neck affectionately, though it isn't very gentle. My childhood years of playing chase with Rodrik and Rayelle are some of my fondest memories, but what I remember now happens to be mine and my brother's spars. I remember him always winning;perhaps this inspires some of our little disconnect between us. Ah, well. Tension is not necessarily a bad thing.

My elegant head turns to Bergamot with a large grin, not because Rodrik's joke is funny, but because it is true. His beauty is truly taken from Pomona, at least in my eyes. Everything about him screams Pomona, besides his palomino coat, wordless mouth, and illustrative coat. The first screams Rayelle, and the second, Rhaego, and the third of myself. A shame that I have been carrying the defect in my blood, a shame that I doubt I will ever forgive myself for. But I digress; Rodrik wishes to know just who my darling woman might be.

Without speaking, I turn to face the length of my body at Rodrik. An image forms dubiously, sluggish in comparison to how Bergamot has begun to spin his web of images. In half a minute, Pomona stands clear as day on my fine barrel, rugged, liver chestnut, older, but amazing. Stunning. The way I perceive her is obvious in my image; her brown eyes twinkle, her chevron tattoo mirrors the one on my front right leg, her curves are accentuated and there's a sultry look masking her regularly calm, romantic demeanor. A love-struck grin sweeps my features, but it disperses as I lose control of my powers. I haven't been gone long enough from the Chamber to have full access, but I plan on using it as much as I can before my return to the evil kingdom.

"Pomona," I state simply as I turn back to my first position. A playful smirk comes over my lips, the glint in my eyes one of a trickster. "You might do well to look for a mate in the Jungle, brother. I'm sure Bergamot here agrees." Instead of meeting my son's eyes as one might expect, I look to his barrel for a response, and then his head for either a shake, nod, frown, or smile. My smile twists slightly when I realize that I haven't yet explained my son's disability... It is, after all, a hushed subject. (Har).

"He inherited father's muteness." My voice is quiet, but blunt. There really is no other way to go about this, however much it pains all three of us. I nuzzle Bergamot's jaw, realizing with a jolt that I no longer need to lean down to do so. Refusing to admit that my son is growing, I nuzzle for a moment longer before turning back to Rodrik. "But enough of us; what plans do you have to get out of this hell hole? Though if we're going by your alter-ego, you really should fit in quite well, mister Devil sir." It is now my turn to wink. "But all of us here are smarter than to fall for such a lame facade. You're no devil, unless the devil is a sap who loves his whole family more than he'd like to admit."