and I discovered that my castles stand
upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
Though he patrols the borders, Texas is unlikely to enforce them. It’s gotten him in trouble before, when he chose to ignore the diplomatic regime of the kingdom, but has made him no less likely to change his ways. These days he does’nt even know where the Falls stands. Not that he ever did – they’ve always been rather terrible at that – but lately he’s begun to worry.
He doesn’t worry, so the emotion in itself is disturbing. Worry is for those that care about the future, for those that make an effort to hold on to something, and Texas has not been that type of creature for eons. At some point, of course, he had cared for this kingdom and the people in it; he had ruled justly and well. But those days are long gone, forgotten by any with living memory (often including Texas himself). The kingdom had belonged by blood to Believe, but Texas was the stallion, and so the bulk of the ruling fell to him. He’d been hopeful that Tiberios would be the turning point for the Fall, but he’d gone and died like the rest of the mortals, leaving a sick queen and a princess that never showed her face.
He’s beginning to be both worried and irate.
It’s a bothersome combination of feelings.
Of course, he’s always been rather excellent at shelving away unwanted emotions, so today when the blood bay mare appears on the borders he’s not thinking of any of that at all. He’s free to return her smile with a carefree one of his own, and so he does. He does not miss her teasing, but he’s more than experienced at such games, and knows that hitting on strangers at the border is not always the best idea. They might want to join the Falls, as is the case with Estonia, and Texas would rather not have to deal with the child-sized consequences that often result from flirting carried too far.
The bay stallion does smile as she looks him up and down, and tells her that: “It only gets better,” with a mischievous smirk. He waits for a brief moment, then gestures behind him, as though he’d meant only that the kingdom gets better from where she stands. Texas finds that he’s rather enjoying himself, and that while doing so it’s hard to be worried about the future. “We’ve got a waterfall capable of healing all injuries, so that’s nice.”
He takes the chance to look her over again, clearly presumably for injuries that might be in need of magical assistance. “Anything you need fixed?” He asks with a brief grin, “Or did you plan on becoming a warrior who’ll need frequent healing?” The army the he leads consists of himself and Tyra, who he has not seen in nearly five years. Perhaps she is here somewhere, but she is doing little for the kingdom but adding her name to their ranks.
There he goes, worrying again.
Perhaps Estonia is inclined to offer a distraction.
texas
