A fury of lavender falls from the sky like an astroid. Pummeling the rocks to dust as his iron hooves crashed into the island. To say he was angry was an understatement, he was flaming pissed. "How dare she!" He growls. He had never believed she truly cared to be with him. It was a convenience and a possible promise of position. All she had wanted was for him to snatch his sister's crown and place it atop her angelic head. He wasn't stupid, but for her to conceive his child then walk away out of spite, that was past even him.
As he had landed his wings folded neatly to his heaving barrel. The exertion of a rapid flight, the added weight of metal he still held, along with his anger caused a thick layer of sweat to cling to his pristine coat. A vicious shake to his body rids him of any earthy metals and jewels that remained. Tucking them back into Beqanna until he called upon them again.
With a deep, meditating breath he exhales slowly. Calming his nerves almost instantly. He assures himself this wasn't the last time she'd see him. He'd come for what was his. Sabra wouldn't know when or where, but he'd come for his child. The thought causes a grin to stretch across his face. Right now he had other relationships to attend to.
So he settles for walking along the sandy beaches. The tangle of jungle vines and brush was not to his liking to travel amongst. Though he appreciates its' beauty from afar. He hopes to run into another member of the island. Most, seemingly of his same lineage as they shared similar features and hues. A once creature of solitude, he was becoming increasingly present within the island. A new found purpose. A self-appointed duty.
Long live Ischia
