04-16-2019, 06:00 PM
It is only natural that his first day in his new home would be interrupted by yet another nosy diplomat of the Cove. Litotes rolls his eyes to himself, eying the bay and green stallion from a distance.
Clayton stands upon the border, almost as if he is hesitant to step into Pangea. The cremello muses on why that would be, with the plague taking every land for itself now. And why would he fear a land he is to eventually rule? It can only be expected of monarchs to know their territories inside and out. A bemused smile spreads quietly across his lips. Though he questions their abilities, he is not making an outright insult to their throne.
Quaintly, he walks toward the border, stepping through the dry dirt with a somehow smug and demure demeanor. The cremello takes his time, chewing on what stupid thing he could say to Clayton right off the bat. He settles on something simple, to the point:
“Hi, Clayton.” The smile on his face is coy. His golden eyes trail up the large horns the boy wears like a badge - a lazy roll to the top and then down back to his eyes.
“Why don’t you come in, stay a spell? I would love for you to see my new home while we work out whatever is on your mind.” He steps to the side, offering a wide view of Pangea’s twisting shadows and sharp edges.
@[Clayton]
Clayton stands upon the border, almost as if he is hesitant to step into Pangea. The cremello muses on why that would be, with the plague taking every land for itself now. And why would he fear a land he is to eventually rule? It can only be expected of monarchs to know their territories inside and out. A bemused smile spreads quietly across his lips. Though he questions their abilities, he is not making an outright insult to their throne.
Quaintly, he walks toward the border, stepping through the dry dirt with a somehow smug and demure demeanor. The cremello takes his time, chewing on what stupid thing he could say to Clayton right off the bat. He settles on something simple, to the point:
“Hi, Clayton.” The smile on his face is coy. His golden eyes trail up the large horns the boy wears like a badge - a lazy roll to the top and then down back to his eyes.
“Why don’t you come in, stay a spell? I would love for you to see my new home while we work out whatever is on your mind.” He steps to the side, offering a wide view of Pangea’s twisting shadows and sharp edges.
@[Clayton]
