07-25-2016, 03:57 PM
ROMEK
She is endearingly sweet and bouncy, and it is a nice change for Romek. She is a breath of fresh spring air in the frozen kingdom, sunk deep into winter. She describes their King, Offspring, as a grump and he lifts one brow in amusement. ”A man after my own heart,”
She is quick to smooth over her own words, though, in a charmingly innocent way.
He makes a note to seek him out later (after all, it was always always good to get acquainted with the person or people in charge of leading you), but for now he is enjoying the young mare’s company. She explains the set up of the kingdom and the spotted stallion nods again, his golden eyes skimming over the tops of the mountains. ”Yes, I’m familiar.” he confirms. The standard setup, kingdoms too scared to break from tradition. And hey, if it worked, why not keep it?
She explains her own origin, and he tilts his head, comfortable as the silence comfortably slips between them, and she reveals that the King is her father. At this, he raises his head.
He doesn’t think he’s nervous - although really, he could be, because he hasn’t really thought about that before. Does he have anything to worry about, though, truly?
”You’re a princess,” he simply states, his amber eyes still and unreadable. ”I was a prince once. A long time ago.” it sounds so quaint, doesn’t it? It’s almost poetic – the golden-warm son of the sun, exiled to the icelands, the fallen prince, the nobody with the sand-gilded blood. A nobody was accurate, at least.
She asks why the Field – but the answer to that was obvious. ”I had nowhere else to go.”
She is quick to smooth over her own words, though, in a charmingly innocent way.
He makes a note to seek him out later (after all, it was always always good to get acquainted with the person or people in charge of leading you), but for now he is enjoying the young mare’s company. She explains the set up of the kingdom and the spotted stallion nods again, his golden eyes skimming over the tops of the mountains. ”Yes, I’m familiar.” he confirms. The standard setup, kingdoms too scared to break from tradition. And hey, if it worked, why not keep it?
She explains her own origin, and he tilts his head, comfortable as the silence comfortably slips between them, and she reveals that the King is her father. At this, he raises his head.
He doesn’t think he’s nervous - although really, he could be, because he hasn’t really thought about that before. Does he have anything to worry about, though, truly?
”You’re a princess,” he simply states, his amber eyes still and unreadable. ”I was a prince once. A long time ago.” it sounds so quaint, doesn’t it? It’s almost poetic – the golden-warm son of the sun, exiled to the icelands, the fallen prince, the nobody with the sand-gilded blood. A nobody was accurate, at least.
She asks why the Field – but the answer to that was obvious. ”I had nowhere else to go.”
fuck all your dreams, they’re not all they seem