Rhonan leads him in relative silence. Talking isn’t his skill. Possibly other’s find him rude for his lack of conversation, he has no idea, and doesn’t really care. He answers questions, certainly, point’s maybe a handful of semi-useful knowledge out on the way. He doesn’t really know what others would actually find useful, other than like “these are such and such and kingdom’s borders, and they hate the Valley”. Because 99% of the time, they hate the Valley.

There’s a reason they are only allied with the Chamber. He’s often oblivious, but not entirely stupid.

Eventually, they come to the firewall. He snarls at the thing slightly, turning to Blayd. “It’s going away.” He says, pulling a shadow portal into existence in front of them. ”Only way through without the mark. Which I refused. That’s going away too.”

He steps through the portal, not waiting for Blayd. He figures the stallion will follow if he wants to join the Valley. If he doesn’t, well then he probably wasn’t worth very much anyway. But he doubts that’s the case. Even if he’s a terrible judge of character, he’s sticking to his assumption this stallion will prove himself useful.

The portal drops him far enough away from the firewall to feel comfortable, and he turns and waits for the other.

rhonan.

He knows the once-King, though Rhonan merely turns his head slightly at the sound of the voice. He doesn’t greet him with some extra enthusiasm, but the gods of Beqanna would descend and Rhonan’s attitude still wouldn’t change. It wasn’t anything personal. Rhonan just didn’t know how to be any other way.

The jaguar stallion joins the group, fitting himself in like he hadn’t been gone for the past few years, but thankfully for him, Rhonan doesn’t really care about that either. He just goes with it. “Because no one left really likes it.” He says, and as always, he’s not attempting to be rude, though it quite possibly comes off that way. He simply says the truth, the shadows of the trees around them lifting from the ground slightly. It’s a quiet demonstration. The Valley is made of shadows now, not fire, and the two don’t get along.

He listens as Demian, full of more words than Rhonan ever will be, continues to explain the mark. Explain the old ways. The Valley had changed under Gallows and Fennick though. Not terribly so, but just enough. Rhonan liked it better this way, but of course, he wasn’t one for fire or marks or anything so showy. He shrugs his shoulders slightly. “Never really saw how a mark proved loyalty. Only loyalty and hard work can prove itself, really.”

You can ignore a mark, turn your attention elsewhere. What does a mark really do, in the long run? There are plenty of magicians around to remove or hide things, to reserve or lessen effects. In the end, what had the Amazon tattoo ever done to stop Amazonian’s from leaving? He didn’t get it. Though unlike most horses, he was prone to ignoring consequences and just doing whatever he wanted anyway. Luckily for him, the shadows took his damage for him.

“I do,” he says, when Demian mentions that he prefers the quiet. “ “But I can still talk for myself, thanks,” The shadows of the trees lift from the ground behind him, like sentries. They don’t move, and he actually turns to look, not even realizing it was him right away. But of course, he doesn’t always control the shadows. Sometimes they simply do their own thing, and he is their conduit. He turns his attention back, mostly to Blayd now. “Don’t worry about the questions.”

rhonan.