Set
Her response, wrought from dark lips his body knows carnally, draws a low chuckle of fondness. No, he does not suppose he would expect anything less from her. Bright eyes trace her shadow-ordained curves with primitive appreciation. She has not changed much; physically, both of them have been suspended in perfection, the magic augmenting what nature had already given them. The same scandalous gleam still lurks in her cold stare, its steely edge untempered by her wintry smile. It has always been effortless between them. Now, as before, slips back into the shadow queen’s presence as easily as he breathes. Old friends, old lovers - they had blurred the lines a few times, producing rather excellent offspring, but both have always remained content with what they have. At that thought, the ghosts of lovers past - the complicated, hardly comparable ones - drift in and out of his mind’s eye as he reaches down to scratch dried sweat from his muzzle. Sobered for a moment, he shakes out his coat with a low groan.
Ana has always been more ambitious than he. He had been king once, ruled the Chamber for a good part of his first life. But, the inflexibility of the throne, the demands of being king … well, winning the Alliance has given him a more entertaining means to pass the time, with all the freedom he could ever ask for. Not that he faults the shadowmage for her keenness. He admires it, in fact.
He grins at her warm ( warm for the ice queen) greeting. He had not realized how much he had missed her presence until Niklas had told him that she had returned. Stretching out, he chucks her under the chin with his own muzzle, finding her gaze with an inscrutable expression. “ I would never betray you, Ana.” He speaks the cryptic words quietly, almost absently, belied by the fierceness burning in the gold of his eyes. Almost as quickly as it has come, the seriousness is gone. His features melt into the boyish countenance she well knows. “It’s good to see you again too, wicked lamb.” He shoulders her roughly and nips at her withers playfully before wheeling away, skipping over the shadows that worship at her feet to jog deeper into the Chamber’s stead.
It is a sparse land, dotted with gnarled copses, split by a lazy river that ebbs and flows with the seasons. Stark, not nearly as forested as the kingdom they had bled for. The god’s reek still lingers in the cracks and crevices and he supposes it will always be so. Though the vegetation is scant, the canyons and bracken waters are thick with life, the hardiest of creatures not only surviving, but thriving. He might do just fine here. “Alright, sweets. You’ve convinced me.” As if it had ever been a question. He turns on her with that incorrigible grin. “What now?”
Ana has always been more ambitious than he. He had been king once, ruled the Chamber for a good part of his first life. But, the inflexibility of the throne, the demands of being king … well, winning the Alliance has given him a more entertaining means to pass the time, with all the freedom he could ever ask for. Not that he faults the shadowmage for her keenness. He admires it, in fact.
He grins at her warm ( warm for the ice queen) greeting. He had not realized how much he had missed her presence until Niklas had told him that she had returned. Stretching out, he chucks her under the chin with his own muzzle, finding her gaze with an inscrutable expression. “ I would never betray you, Ana.” He speaks the cryptic words quietly, almost absently, belied by the fierceness burning in the gold of his eyes. Almost as quickly as it has come, the seriousness is gone. His features melt into the boyish countenance she well knows. “It’s good to see you again too, wicked lamb.” He shoulders her roughly and nips at her withers playfully before wheeling away, skipping over the shadows that worship at her feet to jog deeper into the Chamber’s stead.
It is a sparse land, dotted with gnarled copses, split by a lazy river that ebbs and flows with the seasons. Stark, not nearly as forested as the kingdom they had bled for. The god’s reek still lingers in the cracks and crevices and he supposes it will always be so. Though the vegetation is scant, the canyons and bracken waters are thick with life, the hardiest of creatures not only surviving, but thriving. He might do just fine here. “Alright, sweets. You’ve convinced me.” As if it had ever been a question. He turns on her with that incorrigible grin. “What now?”