03-31-2016, 11:12 AM
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.
Silence has befallen his dappled companion who still lingers, albeit sheepish, at his side. He finds himself grateful for this, as the tension has since grown, thickly rising into the otherwise thin mountain air, shrouding them in a cloud of borderline aggression. His own heart pounds steadily within his chest, but his mind is moving rampantly. He has seen much in his time - alliances have been built and have fallen, war has left the land devastated, burnt, soiled and stained - and it has all happened yet again. Undoubtedly, it would happen again, perhaps in another lifetime - a lifetime he would surely survive to see - for history was always doomed to repeat itself.
His dark eyes steady themselves between the two, observing Killdare as he becomes clearly agitated. Much can be assessed by one's temper and their ability to handle frustration, and though he has bristled at Brynmor's words, his words remain calm and without bite. He shifts within place, the muscles beneath his taut, war-torn flesh shifting with it as he adjusts his massive weight upon his legs. The sting of the cold does not bother him, but the sudden stillness of the wind does and he finds their minuscule gaps in conversation to be exacerbated by the silence of ice and chill.
He now studies Nymphetamine as he speaks, finally drawing himself out of his shell (defending his King's ruling methods and doing so with conviction) and putting himself forward. He knows little about the other, but he can tell by the intensity and pressing urgency of his words that he is not simply stroking the ego of the one next to him - but he needs no one's words to come to a conclusion himself. He can tell much by his body language and words, and there is sincerity laced between his otherwise terse words.
Having grown still for too long, though, he can feel the ice beginning to encase him as he stands, staring at the other - a thin sheen of frost has begun to envelope him. He is no longer simply an obsidian mass, as ice crystals form in a thick blanket across his skin. His tresses become braided with shards of ice that swiftly stem from the edges of his locks and the thick fur that surrounds his hooves at the base of his powerful legs. He, too, has his moments of surrender to his newfound power - the longer he lingers within his own mind, the sooner he begins to blend into his surroundings. An ice King amongst his throne of snow and permafrost, standing before a King of molten basaltic magma.
The two could not be more different, and yet, an alliance would be birthed from these differences.
With a firm, steady nod, his crimson eyes meet with his brightly burning ones, boring into him. "I have no preconceived notions of your lands, Killdare - I have lived long enough to know that with every shift in hierarchy, there will be change. I, too, seek strength for my men and hefty allies that we can rely on - that can rely on us. I am not concerned with the past. It will remain there." He breathes slowly, exhaling a cloud of frost that drifts with the grace of a small snow flurry to the permafrost below.
"We do seek formidable allies with which we can grow and foster something larger than ourselves. While our numbers are still few and are still young, I will agree to a tentative alliance between our Kingdoms - and once we have spoken with the Valley and Gates ourselves, which Brynmor and I will see to personally, we can gauge their intentions and motives and move forward with an alliance between the four. Is this agreeable?"
His dark eyes steady themselves between the two, observing Killdare as he becomes clearly agitated. Much can be assessed by one's temper and their ability to handle frustration, and though he has bristled at Brynmor's words, his words remain calm and without bite. He shifts within place, the muscles beneath his taut, war-torn flesh shifting with it as he adjusts his massive weight upon his legs. The sting of the cold does not bother him, but the sudden stillness of the wind does and he finds their minuscule gaps in conversation to be exacerbated by the silence of ice and chill.
He now studies Nymphetamine as he speaks, finally drawing himself out of his shell (defending his King's ruling methods and doing so with conviction) and putting himself forward. He knows little about the other, but he can tell by the intensity and pressing urgency of his words that he is not simply stroking the ego of the one next to him - but he needs no one's words to come to a conclusion himself. He can tell much by his body language and words, and there is sincerity laced between his otherwise terse words.
Having grown still for too long, though, he can feel the ice beginning to encase him as he stands, staring at the other - a thin sheen of frost has begun to envelope him. He is no longer simply an obsidian mass, as ice crystals form in a thick blanket across his skin. His tresses become braided with shards of ice that swiftly stem from the edges of his locks and the thick fur that surrounds his hooves at the base of his powerful legs. He, too, has his moments of surrender to his newfound power - the longer he lingers within his own mind, the sooner he begins to blend into his surroundings. An ice King amongst his throne of snow and permafrost, standing before a King of molten basaltic magma.
The two could not be more different, and yet, an alliance would be birthed from these differences.
With a firm, steady nod, his crimson eyes meet with his brightly burning ones, boring into him. "I have no preconceived notions of your lands, Killdare - I have lived long enough to know that with every shift in hierarchy, there will be change. I, too, seek strength for my men and hefty allies that we can rely on - that can rely on us. I am not concerned with the past. It will remain there." He breathes slowly, exhaling a cloud of frost that drifts with the grace of a small snow flurry to the permafrost below.
"We do seek formidable allies with which we can grow and foster something larger than ourselves. While our numbers are still few and are still young, I will agree to a tentative alliance between our Kingdoms - and once we have spoken with the Valley and Gates ourselves, which Brynmor and I will see to personally, we can gauge their intentions and motives and move forward with an alliance between the four. Is this agreeable?"
the ice king of the tundra
OFFSPRING