i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
Reave is not the most devoted of creatures. Even so, he manages to keep abreast of the things that occur in Nerine. He is usually content to leave the residents of this land to their own devices. After all, most of them had not come here for want of close supervision. And Reave doesn’t care to give it.
But whispers of theft are something he doesn’t care to ignore. It’s a touchy subject for the bone-armored stallion, though perhaps a bit hypocritical of him. Still, it draws him here. He had seen it unfurl, one of so many possible futures that had come to light the moment he’d noticed the fae prince on the moors.
A part of him had expected the visit, a return for the one he’d paid to the south. But Obscene had found Crowns first. Reave hadn’t cared to intervene. Not at first, at least. But now, as he drifts lazily across the heathered hills, he draws invariably closer to the pair. They would see him coming now, of course. He doesn’t try to hide it.
He doesn’t need to hide it.
“And here I thought we were friends,” he drawls as he slows his leisurely approach. He flashes a smile at the gilded stallion, blue eyes glinting behind the glowing bone masking his features. “Surely you would need only ask, if that were truly the case.”
He glances at Crowns, amusement drifting across his features. Looking back at Obscene, Reave continues with a shrug, “Of course, I don’t own Crowns. He can do as he pleases.” He tips his head, eyes now sharp, lips lifted in a humorless smile. “You’d be far better served asking him.”
reave
Reave is blocking this steal
