I'm rotting inside
My flesh turns to dust
They won't take to its cold nature so willingly. They want a gentle man, one with emotions and concern for others. They want brothers they can rely on and yet it's Infection that arrived. With yellow stained canines and claws that knead into the snow and a grotesque stare it arrives as though prompted, as though it had never left. It claims its openness to wander because of its ties here although its lineage has only just stopped ruling. The dynasty it provided them with, however, gave the kingdom a chain of fair rulers. Its poisoned bloodlines brought life into the frozen hills.
They don't know this. The newer generations of the brotherhood know nothing of the blood that was shed and the strength it took to begin something so monumental to the kingdom's history. Every king is a large piece in a story so what of the king that began a dynasty?
Hurricane regards it with a foul mistrusting expression while the newcomer, remaining unnamed, replies snidely. Without having answered the alabaster brother Infection steadies its eyes on the foreigner. "You'd be surprised," a hoarse whisper spoken into the bitter wind. Plumes coil from its mouth, the heat mingling with cold, before disappearing for another breath to succeed it. "You need to freshen up on your Tundra history," its gaze narrows when it turns to look at Hurricane. The statement is said flatly and strangely confidently. Their eyes level on one another for a few heartbeats before it regards the stranger once more. "Your name?"
infection