Don't push me, I've got nothing to lose.
He settles into Sylva's borders as well as can be expected for a man who has never desired to be in a herd. He knew it was only a matter of time before he wandered again, but decided to keep Sylva in the back of his mind as a "home" to rest his head in whenever he felt the need to. The dense orange trees kept him well-hidden, an attribute of the land he quite enjoyed, and he hoped he could make something of himself with the help of the wraith.
The king's call rings throughout the trees - demanding, authoritative. There is no question in his voice; he wants his kingdom there. The clown follows suit, twisting through the masses till he finds his place in the front of the line, icy eyes staring at Gryffen with anticipation. He grins at the thought that he could be rewarded for the efforts he was willing to give. When he mentions Thana as the new NightMother, he bows his head in her direction, a sign of respect.
And then, his own name is mentioned. Modicum straightens his body out, flicking his ears forward, full attention on the wraith.
"Kill that which causes their pain."
Kill. The word sends shivers of pleasure down Mortem's spine; a task he was more than willing to accomplish for the king. A twisted grin paints his ebony face, and he nods sharply.
He already has someone in mind.
Modicum Mortem