and i found love where it wasn't supposed to be; any

[Killdare]

now im going to reap what i sow

He knows how to take a break, sort of.

Killdare just doesn’t make a habit of useless wandering anymore, now that he was Lord, now that he felt a sense of responsibility. Or rather, he was trying really hard to figure out what being Lord meant, and how exactly he should spend his time. What he should do, where he should help, where he should sit back and let fate unfold. Whom he should trust, or watch, or ally with. There were so many things to consider now and it caused the most annoying ache in his head, throbbing against his temples like a morning after hangover. Today is not really one of those days though, and he’s not feeling hell bent on stalking down anything and everything that comes near the Chamber border, trying to chat it up or get rid of it. Trying to decide who he is, what he is, and what the Chamber expected from him exactly. She was a coy mistress the Chamber, never fully making anything clear outright.

No, not this day, this day he wouldn’t trouble himself. Instead he’s just kind of walking aimlessly, brushing his wings against the low hanging boughs of the pines. They no longer tremble and fall at his touch as they tend to do during the colder winter months. Instead the branches bend and sway as he clips them, returning to their angles against the sky with a waver. The summer sun sets the world on fire, heating and intensifying the scents of the forest, taking everything from a cold standstill to a boiling gratification. He could feel the oncoming war building, becoming a more palpable possibility with each passing of the moon and the sun, lying in wait for someone to give word.

In truth Killdare isn’t sure if it would be the Chamber to blow the horns of war first, even if they had done a fine job in tilting the scales of conflict. It was there, regardless of whom or what had given life to it,  just waiting on the ledge for someone to catch it or set it free. All it needed was that little push, that small nudge into one direction or the other.

The bay puzzles over everything that’s happened in the last few years, so many changes to the world, so many changes in himself. He was no longer just the boy recruit, ambitiously trying to find his place,  trying to gain some smart role to shove under his father’s nose. No, his self serving ambitions had been sloughed away by the trees, by the rough familiarity of their coarse brown bark. She had that certain skill of making things into what She wanted them to be, regardless of what the vessel thought. Just as she was doing now, sending Killdare’s blank mind into a sea of thought and turbulence, showing him who was boss, who had the final say.

It’s not hard to guess why he’s run into her, eyes slammed shut in a worthless attempt to dull the ache in his skull. Driving headlong into a barrier of birds, of white and feathers, grabbing out with a hook of his wing at the nearest trunk. He steadies himself, his lids bursting open into a soft glassy green, and he jerks his head back at the proximity trying to put that personal bubble back between them. “Sorry. You okay?”

KILLDARE

The Dragon Lord & Colonel of the Chamber