i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
Reave has never been averse to chaos as so many seem to be. He has certainly been doing his own share of sowing, though if one looked closely, they would find it difficult to trace back to him. That would change soon, but Reave has been enjoying watching as the seeds he had been planting grew into fruition. There is something almost delightful about watching the cracks spread throughout Beqanna.
Mazikeen, caught up as she has been with the curse inhabiting Gale, has likely taken little notice of the cracks spider webbing through the kingdoms even now. But soon, she would be unable to fail in noticing as things began to sprout. Would she remember this moment when that time came?
He rather hopes so.
Though Reave has always cared for his siblings, he does not begrudge her hatred for his elder brother. The stallion is wound tight as the roots of a dandelion, so Reave has no doubt Nashua had done plenty to help instigate this little feud. Reave is rather delighted by it, even if the northern King would find it infuriating. But then, upending societal norms had always been a favorite of his.
The Guardian cannot help but laugh when Mazikeen states how nice it has been having Bolder there. An understatement for certain. Even if he had not already seen it, it swirls in the memories and emotions rioting around the pale mare. “I bet it has,” he replies in the wake of his laughter, eyes bright with mirth.
Reave eyes her openly as she latches onto his comment about Bolder’s mother, her nod confirming they had indeed met. A sort of impish tenacity suffuses the red and white stallion’s features as he shifts restlessly, lips curving upwards. “It’s not so much what she said.” His tone is light and breezy despite the curl of temptation drifting through it. “More what she didn’t say.”
It’s a non-answer of course, and Reave’s devilish grin widens.
reave
@Mazikeen