07-07-2016, 12:59 PM
BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON.
I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
The brisk icy wind breaks into the monotony of an otherwise ordinary day, cutting across his puckered pink scars and sending a delightful chill along his spine. He thoroughly savors the wind, sleet and frost, though he is a behemoth in size - he is not suited for heat, for sand or for any long term exposure to unadulterated sunlight. He is build with thick, sinewy muscle and bone, and with his unseen crown, he has been blessed with unimaginable power over the element he has so adoringly tangled with. Even now, as the gusts pick up their pace and press him down along the mountain side, his skin begins to encase in a thin sheen of ice, which glimmers beneath the pale sunlight of an otherwise dim and cloudy day.
His dark red eyes cast a glance towards a few figures looming precariously near the border - Brynmor appears tense, and not at all at ease with the unknown female looming far beyond what is acceptable for any diplomat or visitor to enter. With a swift huff of air from his whiskered nostrils, he presses forth and gains a hefty pace, crossing the vast, empty terrain easily with heavy, but wide strides. As he approaches, stark obsidian to the dull gray of the land that lay behind him, he observes the male that approaches as he nears - though he eases, if only slightly, at the gentle jest in his tone.
It does not appear either came here for trouble, though clearly the female had something to learn about diplomacy and having respect for outside kingdoms.
Fierce crimson eyes meet mellow grey, and he recognizes there is something different about the way he holds himself. The stench that lingers on them is of pine and fresh water, confirming the brash female's confession that she has come forth on behalf of the Falls. He cannot conceal his surprise, nor his amusement. It had been many years since he had taken the throne, and he had not heard from them (nor extended himself, admittedly) in that time - this would prove to be an extraordinary day after all.
"Kreios. A pleasure. And your name is?" He studies the female once more (who had failed to give her own name), boring into her for a long moment before deciding to move on. "Your King is correct - our borders are marked by a massive block wall of ice. Surely you didn't miss it." His whiskered lips turn in the slightest uptick of a smile, and he chuckles deeply from the root of his chest. "I am Offspring, King of the lands you are standing on. You are welcome to take as much of our snow pact as you'd like."
He knows all too well the undesirability of the permafrost-encrusted landscape, and yet he would be lost without its unusual splendor. He knew Kreios must feel the very same way of his own lands.
"Banter aside, you are incorrect in one thing." He muses, still looming with a gleam in his eye. "We have opened our ranks and borders openly to both sexes - male and female. We no longer host a patriarchal view. Welcome to the Tundra."
His dark red eyes cast a glance towards a few figures looming precariously near the border - Brynmor appears tense, and not at all at ease with the unknown female looming far beyond what is acceptable for any diplomat or visitor to enter. With a swift huff of air from his whiskered nostrils, he presses forth and gains a hefty pace, crossing the vast, empty terrain easily with heavy, but wide strides. As he approaches, stark obsidian to the dull gray of the land that lay behind him, he observes the male that approaches as he nears - though he eases, if only slightly, at the gentle jest in his tone.
It does not appear either came here for trouble, though clearly the female had something to learn about diplomacy and having respect for outside kingdoms.
Fierce crimson eyes meet mellow grey, and he recognizes there is something different about the way he holds himself. The stench that lingers on them is of pine and fresh water, confirming the brash female's confession that she has come forth on behalf of the Falls. He cannot conceal his surprise, nor his amusement. It had been many years since he had taken the throne, and he had not heard from them (nor extended himself, admittedly) in that time - this would prove to be an extraordinary day after all.
"Kreios. A pleasure. And your name is?" He studies the female once more (who had failed to give her own name), boring into her for a long moment before deciding to move on. "Your King is correct - our borders are marked by a massive block wall of ice. Surely you didn't miss it." His whiskered lips turn in the slightest uptick of a smile, and he chuckles deeply from the root of his chest. "I am Offspring, King of the lands you are standing on. You are welcome to take as much of our snow pact as you'd like."
He knows all too well the undesirability of the permafrost-encrusted landscape, and yet he would be lost without its unusual splendor. He knew Kreios must feel the very same way of his own lands.
"Banter aside, you are incorrect in one thing." He muses, still looming with a gleam in his eye. "We have opened our ranks and borders openly to both sexes - male and female. We no longer host a patriarchal view. Welcome to the Tundra."
OFFSPRING
the ice king of the tundra