I've heard there was a secret chord
that David played and it pleased the Lord
but you don't really care for music do you?
Despite being born of the shadows, he is of the light. The gray stallion is a symbol for what’s good in the world, and he tries his best to see it in everyone he meets. He is not, however, stupid, and he is well-aware that there are bad apples in each and every bunch. They can’t all be the shiny red fruit at the top of the bushel; some around bound to find their way to the bottom. Despite all of that, he still would like to believe that given the chance, they too could polish up. He doesn’t share others views of the Chamber; he does not believe they are all inherently evil, or bloodthirsty, or anything other than the same flesh and blood that he is. Thus far the kingdom had borne his no ill-will, and he preferred it stay that way.
“It’s fine, Reuen” he says as they wait idly in the shadows of the border. It is colder here than the Gates, the the trees seem thicker and less welcoming. Perhaps he’s just seeing it that way and it isn’t really so. As they wait quietly, the shadows bring forth a ghost of a horse, all pale skin and red eyes. The Gray King tenses slightly, moving instinctively closer to Reuen. Finally the pale stallion speaks, and Mast’s ears flicker backwards for just a moment. There is a tone there, a promise of threat, that curdles his stomach. “While I’m sure Reuen would love that, I believe I’ll stay with her.” he said curtly, glancing in her direction. He knew how delicate she was, like a thin layer of ice; it would not take much to make her crack. “I’m Mast, King of the Gates. Your queen, is she here? You know, politics and all that.” he said quickly, a fake tense smile lifting the corners of his black lips. Shifting his weight, he waited, not patiently, but waited nonetheless.
M A S T