we are aching bones and wasted years; cinzia, any

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

It feels strange to be both at home and stranger at the same time, standing at the border like nothing more than a visiting diplomat while his veins sing to rush into the jungle’s belly. It takes all of Magnus’ restraint to hold himself back—and were it not from the glossy-smiled mare at his side, it might not have worked. But, Cinzia is there, and while he may be confident in his ability to wind through the trees, his footing steady through the thick of the vines, he was not sure he could say the same thing about her.

And what kind of gentleman would he be to abandon his companion?

So he waits, smiling down at her and then looking around, dark-tipped ears flicking back and forth atop his head. It is only when Rhy joins them that he forces himself to concentrate, his lacerated lips pulling into a rougish, crooked smile. “Hello Rhy. It’s a pleasure.” He pauses, letting Cinzia introduce them, finding no small pleasure in having the tiny female stepping in to lead the conversation.

“The Jungle is my homeland,” he explains in his whiskey-tones, nodding his golden head a little. “On my last visit, Lagertha was kind enough to say I could visit—so long as I knocked.” Here his grin becomes a little more knowing, remembering the sharp edges to the Amazon Queen and liking her all the more for them. He had to imagine Twinge would have liked Lagertha just fine. She was a spitfire just like his mom.

“So, here, we are…knocking.” Humor sparks in his eyes as he holds Rhy’s gaze, hoping that she would not find the visit too intrusive or too extraordinarily outside of the realm of their current diplomatic stance. The Gates may have an open border, but that did not mean all the kingdoms followed suit. “I hope that we are not too much of an intrusion,” he pauses, voice genuine. “I just miss the Jungle often.”

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.