fault lines tremble underneath my glass house; atrox and any

[atrox]

a t r o x -- The longer that he stands here, the more he is acutely aware of the strangeness of his night. He can feel the colt moving through his memories and the mulberry boy does not bother hiding the intrusion. Atrox feels the memories flash—sees his life moving in fast forward as the boy consumes them all. For a moment, rage fill his chest, but it soon dies, and he just accepts the fact that the boy’s magic had rooted through his mind so effortlessly. Woolf seemed as incapable, as disinterested, in controlling his powers as Anastasia had been. She had killed without second thought, and Atrox had not attempted to stop her. He wasn’t about to put boundaries on the duo before him now. Instead, he just sighs, yawns. “You know, you will encounter soul who do not like that intrusion very much,” his voice is thick, and he drawls them out, enjoying the lengthening of the syllables. For a stallion who lived for the drums of war, he never seemed to be in a rush to get anywhere. “Luckily for you, I do not overly care. You will not find much of interest rattling around in my mind.” Not entirely true; he had seen a lot to interest newborn magicians, but he wasn’t about to invite them further into his memories. Stepping forward, he eyes the grass growing beneath them, the sparks between them. “Do you plan on staying here?” With war on the horizon, it would not be disadvantageous to have magicians on the Chamber’s side. Set and Ana both were powerful, having spent years mastering their powers, but they were as reliable as magicians tended to be—and they could not be relied upon to show up when they were needed. “The Chamber tends to like things like you.” He could feel her purr her consent beneath him. panther-stallion | ex-king | forever chamber guardian