06-28-2018, 03:03 PM
it was a blood-soaked feast
that never ceased
that never ceased
He is never far from his playthings, making sure that they are immensely aware of his constant presence. He has taken a liking to the crippled woman from Tephra (the smell of the salty sea still desperately clings to her, despite the amount of brackish water he has saturated her in), though his favor towards her is strictly in the way he is her captor - nothing else about her is anything special besides the fact that Sylva had chosen her, as he and Crevan make sure she always remembers that her only purpose here is just that. The dried cracking of his mouth lingers on the curve of her silvered neck, lipping at the dampness of her skin. Maugrim’s nostrils inhale the scent of the wolf, his dark gaze flickering towards him briefly before settling onto Astarael, their queen and now only ruler.
Maugrim is not against change - he is as fluid as the tides, easily adjusting to whatever scenario he might find himself in and, of course, only adapting to circumstances that benefit him. Tendrils of Astarael’s fear aura stretches out towards him and had he been near the water, he would have striked at the creeping red fingers with distaste. It creates a sour expression on his two-toned face, the blackness of his eyes staring defiantly into that of the demon queen. He says nothing, which is typical of the Riverlord, though it is also because he truly has nothing to say.
Astarael speaks of Loess, Maugrim’s eyes filtering through the group with a passive expression. He’s idly running his mouth over tangled locks of Wound’s mane, the dried taste of blood intermingled within. He has done enough and still has plenty to do - a trip to Loess did not sound at all appetizing and so the Finisher does not volunteer. He would perhaps start a war easily if he is sent, so hopefully the new queen realizes where the stallion’s strengths are and diplomacy is not one of them.
Maugrim is not against change - he is as fluid as the tides, easily adjusting to whatever scenario he might find himself in and, of course, only adapting to circumstances that benefit him. Tendrils of Astarael’s fear aura stretches out towards him and had he been near the water, he would have striked at the creeping red fingers with distaste. It creates a sour expression on his two-toned face, the blackness of his eyes staring defiantly into that of the demon queen. He says nothing, which is typical of the Riverlord, though it is also because he truly has nothing to say.
Astarael speaks of Loess, Maugrim’s eyes filtering through the group with a passive expression. He’s idly running his mouth over tangled locks of Wound’s mane, the dried taste of blood intermingled within. He has done enough and still has plenty to do - a trip to Loess did not sound at all appetizing and so the Finisher does not volunteer. He would perhaps start a war easily if he is sent, so hopefully the new queen realizes where the stallion’s strengths are and diplomacy is not one of them.
m a u g r i m.
Maugie is here, being creepy and silent as always. He won't go to Loess, but if he's asked, he will most likely injure someone there and cause an all out battle, so yeah. If you want that to happen then he will happily comply!