10-22-2017, 10:55 PM
As a child he'd been angry, so angry at the world. He had wanted to lash out and make the world burn, as his sire had attempted before him, but he had never had the means to do so. He didn't have the temperament to rule, and he certainly didn't have the personality that would make others want to follow him. He had snapped at the men and women who had come knocking, defying them for all that he was worth, and it had all been for naught. The kingdom had fallen and Malekith had disappeared into the depths.
The Chamber is no more, and as far as Malekith is aware, he holds no interest for the newly formed kingdoms of this Beqanna. He holds no particular attachment to the old world—it had been nothing but cruel to him, after all—but he feels the same for this new world. Surely there is a place he can go, and sow the seeds of his ambition, slight as it is, but for now he is content to wait. He has ideas that could further him in life, but he doesn't feel the need to make any kind of move as of yet. He simply doesn't want to.
He moves nearly silently through the trees of one of the newer common areas, his hooves brushing lightly over the fallen leaves. He pauses as he hears a call echo through the forest, swinging his heavy head towards the whinny, though he knows it can't possibly be for him—the only ones that would remember him are all dead or vanished. His yellow eyes fall upon a pretty young mare, watching her as she freezes and flushes, clearly having just mistaken him for someone she knows. An easy smile spreads across his face as she apologizes, and he takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them until just a few yards separates the unlikely pair.
"It's no worry at all," he tells her. "I'd be surprised if you did know me. My name is Malekith. Would you be so kind as to tell me yours?"
The Chamber is no more, and as far as Malekith is aware, he holds no interest for the newly formed kingdoms of this Beqanna. He holds no particular attachment to the old world—it had been nothing but cruel to him, after all—but he feels the same for this new world. Surely there is a place he can go, and sow the seeds of his ambition, slight as it is, but for now he is content to wait. He has ideas that could further him in life, but he doesn't feel the need to make any kind of move as of yet. He simply doesn't want to.
He moves nearly silently through the trees of one of the newer common areas, his hooves brushing lightly over the fallen leaves. He pauses as he hears a call echo through the forest, swinging his heavy head towards the whinny, though he knows it can't possibly be for him—the only ones that would remember him are all dead or vanished. His yellow eyes fall upon a pretty young mare, watching her as she freezes and flushes, clearly having just mistaken him for someone she knows. An easy smile spreads across his face as she apologizes, and he takes a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them until just a few yards separates the unlikely pair.
"It's no worry at all," he tells her. "I'd be surprised if you did know me. My name is Malekith. Would you be so kind as to tell me yours?"