When he arrives to this, the first kingdom meeting he had ever attended (though had one occurred before the war, he'd have either refused to come or stood there off to one side, being sullen and wanting to be anywhere else at all), he takes up a position behind and just off of Zayn's shoulder, as is proper. Siberian shifts his weight from hoof to hoof as he listens to Killdare, a feeling of pride deep in his chest as the new King compliments them all and issues out promotions, and in his case, a beginner's ranking. They had all done well in defending the Chamber, though no one's ability is more frightening than Nymph's power over the dead, in the black stallion's opinion at least. Other horses' mileage might differ. Certainly, when he'd first met Misra, he had probably been pretty high up on her list. Thankfully, that meeting had ended much, much better than it had begun; even if he'd ended up being used as a pillow.
Too bad he hadn't heard the travel advisory about the Cove before he'd gone there, but things had gone well enough that he is not worried. He watches the tiger shifter with interest, as the bear whispers, so very faintly in his equine head, that a practice match with the orange and black cat might be enjoyable for all concerned. Perhaps later, Siberian agrees silently. Nymph makes a joke about his wits and Siberian's teeth, and the Budyonny snorts, shaking his head with exasperation. He racks his brain for a quick retort. "You must be quite the diplomat then, no? Your trip to the Tundra will result in the best treaty in the history of the Chamber. " He grins briefly before re-donning his customary stoic expression. The meeting is called to its end, and the young stallion looks to Zayn for permission, before he departs as the others were, heading back to his duties with a new sense of pride fueling his steps.
Siberian
The sexy grizzly boy of Beqanna