03-23-2016, 11:17 PM
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away;
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
"I know that you would, Brynmor - that is why I put you above the other brothers. I need someone who can reign in our allies, keep me aware of what is going on both inside and outside of our kingdom - these things are immensely important to me." He pauses, thinking to the fateful day in the midst of the dry, warm summer in which he'd first met Isle. Of the bloodshed and vehemence of the war. He observed her now as she lost herself amidst the gray, dull landscape - it was anything but to him; it was an icy escape from a past that had haunted him so long. The frosty flatland held all the allure and comfort and solace and solitude without complete isolation, and it kept his deeply rooted demons at bay.
For this, he was grateful.
The gears within his own mind begin to twist and turn as he focuses his attention elsewhere visually, though his mind remains contemplative of the other's careful, deliberate words. He inhales deeply, allowing the sharp sting of winter's descent to fill his lungs to full capacity. He can feel a rush of oxygen to his mind and he feels instantaneously renewed - reinvigorated. He has never known anything as enthralling and enticing as ice and snow, and he knew he likely never would again. There was nothing to compare it to. Its bittersweet numbness and tight, frozen embrace cradled him close, and he cradled it even closer.
"Good. As am I. We are stronger for it, Brynmor - in spite of what obstacles we have faced and certainly will face."
This time, his gaze does not meet his - he is still looking beyond; searching the thick icy border that lines the kingdom for miles upon miles. He briefly pauses to study the small inlet that allowed those who were desired in and those who were kin to go out. It is such a small passage into such a large, expansive space - it stunned him even that his massive figure alone was able to comfortably fit through it, even with the extra poundage of approaching winter solstice. He listens carefully, though, allowing the dappled male's words to fully sink in. His expression retains stoicism and he does not visibly react to any single one of his words, though his mind grows rampant with thought once more.
"I admire your thoughtful approach," He begins as the rumble of his baritone shakes the very core of his esophagus. He pauses his breath in deeply and exhale slowly, a thick puff of white carbon dioxide exiting his lungs at a leisurely pace as he settles upon his words. "but I am afraid I am not interested in trading the blood of our daughters for the promise of their sons. I would rather raise our own here, within our lands, and sooner send our allies our best - of their own volition, and receive them the very same way. For now, I am uncertain of where we stand with the Jungle."
He holds his breath for a moment, knowing his words break a precedence. He has always known of lingering, albeit strained, alliances between the Tundra and the Jungle - the women and men were often as odds with one another, but had often maintained some semblance of an agreeable relationship in the past. The war had been tumultuous though, ruthless and violent, and many had lost their battles as a result. It left him leery, wary and uncomfortable with the idea of an alliance so easily given.
"I would prefer to withhold contact from them for now. Allow the dust to settle; see where we stand with the other monarchs - we are in a position of strength, Brynmor. We have abstained from war and hold great possibilities in forming new, stronger alliances. I think I would prefer to pursue an alliance with those we can equally benefit from, and not those who simply seek the most they can receive in return. I would like for you to visit the Valley, to see the new Queen. See where she stands and take Patchouli with you. When you return, we will venture to the Gates together to meet their new King."
For this, he was grateful.
The gears within his own mind begin to twist and turn as he focuses his attention elsewhere visually, though his mind remains contemplative of the other's careful, deliberate words. He inhales deeply, allowing the sharp sting of winter's descent to fill his lungs to full capacity. He can feel a rush of oxygen to his mind and he feels instantaneously renewed - reinvigorated. He has never known anything as enthralling and enticing as ice and snow, and he knew he likely never would again. There was nothing to compare it to. Its bittersweet numbness and tight, frozen embrace cradled him close, and he cradled it even closer.
"Good. As am I. We are stronger for it, Brynmor - in spite of what obstacles we have faced and certainly will face."
This time, his gaze does not meet his - he is still looking beyond; searching the thick icy border that lines the kingdom for miles upon miles. He briefly pauses to study the small inlet that allowed those who were desired in and those who were kin to go out. It is such a small passage into such a large, expansive space - it stunned him even that his massive figure alone was able to comfortably fit through it, even with the extra poundage of approaching winter solstice. He listens carefully, though, allowing the dappled male's words to fully sink in. His expression retains stoicism and he does not visibly react to any single one of his words, though his mind grows rampant with thought once more.
"I admire your thoughtful approach," He begins as the rumble of his baritone shakes the very core of his esophagus. He pauses his breath in deeply and exhale slowly, a thick puff of white carbon dioxide exiting his lungs at a leisurely pace as he settles upon his words. "but I am afraid I am not interested in trading the blood of our daughters for the promise of their sons. I would rather raise our own here, within our lands, and sooner send our allies our best - of their own volition, and receive them the very same way. For now, I am uncertain of where we stand with the Jungle."
He holds his breath for a moment, knowing his words break a precedence. He has always known of lingering, albeit strained, alliances between the Tundra and the Jungle - the women and men were often as odds with one another, but had often maintained some semblance of an agreeable relationship in the past. The war had been tumultuous though, ruthless and violent, and many had lost their battles as a result. It left him leery, wary and uncomfortable with the idea of an alliance so easily given.
"I would prefer to withhold contact from them for now. Allow the dust to settle; see where we stand with the other monarchs - we are in a position of strength, Brynmor. We have abstained from war and hold great possibilities in forming new, stronger alliances. I think I would prefer to pursue an alliance with those we can equally benefit from, and not those who simply seek the most they can receive in return. I would like for you to visit the Valley, to see the new Queen. See where she stands and take Patchouli with you. When you return, we will venture to the Gates together to meet their new King."
the ice king of the tundra
OFFSPRING