my shadow tilts its head at me,
spirits in the dark are waiting.
He honestly doesn’t except Demian’s answer. If he were any other horse, he might be taken aback. If he were fully aware of empathy, he might feel guilty for being one of voices clambering to take the wall down. But at it stands, he is still very much Rhonan, and he doesn’t feel all that bad about it. Demian had made his bed, and now he had to lay in it. It’s not Rhonan’s fault the stallion never asked anyone else what they thought of it, before he sold his sight.
But still, he is not entirely heartless. “If you want to experiment someday, maybe I can shape your darkness. Maybe you can see, in a way. Though maybe not, but we could try.” It is quite the speech from the gold and white boy with his blanket of shadows. And it is the closest to kindness he could get. It would never be sight, and it would never last, but he might be able to create images out of the darkness. Maybe. He’s never tried to mess with something that wasn’t a shadow on the ground.
“I’ve been in the field. Slim pickings at best, and those I find end up disappearing like the rest.” He’s about to roll his eyes and then realizes Demian’s won’t notice. He does it anyway, mostly for his own benefit. “I don’t think this is a kingdom that wants to hide.” There was a reason they didn’t like the firewall, after all. They didn’t want to cower behind some flaming wall. “And the wolves will handle most intruders well enough.”
Though in the end, everyone wanted Straia’s head on a pike, not any of the Valley members. The Valley could help and end up largely unscathed, he suspected, besides whatever damage the warriors took. “I would like to fight. But I’ll go with or without the sanction of this kingdom, so there’s that. But then again, I’ve heard war brings everyone out of the woodwork.” He wouldn’t know, because he’s never lived through one. But he’s been to the end of the world, and he knows something about hell. War doesn’t scare him, and he believes that at least some will come to the aide of this place.
“As for Gallows and Fennick, you could overthrow them, and then what? There’s no one to take their place, currently. Unless you want your crown back.” And of course, there’s Rhonan, but that thought never even crosses the boy’s mind. Him, a King? It’s an impossible thought. The fact that he’s standing here discussing the fate of a kingdom is laughable enough. Rhonan doesn’t pay that much attention to politics. Doesn’t care if someone burns this kingdom to the ground (he can live in the ash). Doesn’t really care about much. At least, he doesn’t seem to, but he’s possibly not giving himself nearly enough credit.
rhonan.