oh, this my weapon, this my loam. this my blood, this my bone.
Even when he had thrown out the words, he had felt them sink like an anchor in his belly.
He had felt them take root and he had known that the dragon King would accept before he had.
There was something like a terrible kind of premonition that had let her see the ending before this moment had begun and although he had never felt terribly rooted to Tephra, he cannot stop the ache that spreads in his belly now when he realizes he has severed his tie to it. He was no longer a child, but there is enough youth in him to feel the sting of leaving, to feel that homesickness in his very bones.
But he is proud enough to stand by his word.
Proud enough that he doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t rise to it when Castile throws it out before him. He just regards him with his stormy eyes, setting his jaw and clenching his teeth. “Fine,” he finally utters. “You have my word. I will serve your kingdom as long as the wolf makes it.” It is am important clause that he offers, an important one because he has no intention to serve Loess if the healer doesn’t actually work.
But he cannot hope for that.
He has to hope that it works.
“I hope your healers are talented enough to make it a fast journey.” A ruffling of his feathers. “It would be fastest if you had one with wings. Otherwise it is a long trip back to Tephra on foot.”
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between himself and the other stallion. He regards him for a moment, measuring him up before he exhales, resigning himself to the cage he has created.
“I can’t wait to settle in,” a sharp smile. “I’ll be back soon.”