my shadow tilts its head at me,
spirits in the dark are waiting.
The Valley has already fallen into new hands. It seems to be a trend, or so Rhonan gathers. Though he doesn’t really care or think much of it. In truth, he suspects Gallows and Fennick will make good monarchs for the Valley, but in the end, he’s never felt much loyalty to another horse. Or even necessarily his kingdom. It’d be entirely possible for a kingdom to snag him away if the offer made sense. But at the same time, he doubts any other kingdom wants him. Except perhaps the Chamber.
But Rhonan belongs where his father had belonged. Though he’d never met his father, he seems to know this fact. Rhonan has no real social skills, doesn’t bleed for the Valley in the way many of the other residents have, but still, he feels some obligation to work for it. Why? Perhaps because he knows it is what Covet would have done, and would want now. Because he has some pathetic and misguided hope that Covet would be proud of him. Even though his father couldn’t even stay alive long enough to meet his son before dying.
Oh well. No use dwelling on that one.
Unlike the other two recruiters that have already approached, Rhonan doesn’t really have a clue why he’s picking these two. He doesn’t read others all that well, and doesn’t pretend to. He would not admit that he found the mare rather pretty, and liked the way he held her head in the air like she owned the damn place. She seemed like the kind of company one might want to keep. Not that Rhonan was the kind of company anyone wanted to keep. Not because he was outright cruel or anything, but simply because he was awkward as hell. In this, he is Covet’s son.
He pops out of the shadows silently, and literally, not all that far from where they stand, wearing the shadows like a second skin. He has never liked being gold and white, and so he wraps himself in the shadows until his coat is black. It’s not obvious from a quick glance, but closer to him, one can see the way his black coat wavers and swims just slightly. He doesn’t wear it for show, but simply because he likes it better, is far more comfortable wrapped in the darkness.
Magnus asks a question, and Rhonan is close though to hear it at this point, coming to join the group just as Yael begins to speak. He simply nods in greeting slightly, and adds after, “Rhonan, from the Valley.” He doesn’t actual like Magnus’s question. What brings them here seems obvious. The question is what are they looking for. But Rhonan doesn’t ask. One, because he’s happy not to have to say all that much, and two, because he’s not here to be a complete ass. He’s starting to learn where that line is. Starting, though he’ll cross it anyway if the mood strikes him.
rhonan.