09-17-2017, 12:19 PM
if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes
Amet truly believes that the discomfort he feels at hearing King as a precursor to his name will never fade - it's not that he is opposed to the title, but the young stallion can never decide if it sounds decorous or pretentious. It sits on the cusp of both, an awkward see-saw that he has yet to conquer. Nevertheless, he smiles at the gesture and the kindness bestowed on him by the verdant Circinae.
She speaks freely and openly of the trials she has faced and Amet, ever the empath, frowns at what she has experienced. He, himself, has seen the dark side of life, though it has admittedly improved since his arrival in Beqanna. His mother had told him the same thing, once - that she had wished that she hadn't brought him into this world, in this life. And then she'd handed the young boy over to Him; a bartering chip for a golden crown. The gilded stallion pulls himself from this reverie, from that place, and focuses again on Cirinae's steady smile. He feels for her plight and for the weight on her shoulders, having slowly grown used to the feeling himself. There had been a time, in his youth, that he hadn't wanted the responsibility of caring for others. For Iset and Sakir.
But they had needed him and he them, and Amet wonders if this is how Circinae feels about the group that has grown to search for her guidance. His own kind smile forms afresh, coaxed by the wolf-mare's unfaltering one. It turns sheepish as she calls him your grace, a pet name he'd heard only in jest before this moment. He wonders what the stories outside of Hyaline tell of him, if there are any - is he considered a good king? Is he known only for his failure at protecting Hyaline during its assault? Is there threat of a takeover, now that he does not rest beneath Nayl's umbrella?
The Dragon King listens attentively, his awe flourishing beneath the respect that she shows to him. He's unused to the display, doesn't believe that he should be respected any more than any of those who call Hyaline home, but his appreciation illuminates his narrow face nonetheless. "Bring your people, Circinae," he says with warm decisiveness, his amber eyes searching hers, "And find safety in Hyaline. You are welcome here as long as Hyaline's security is always the intent." His gaze glimmers with excitement and he shifts his frame restlessly beneath the sunshine. "We have been in need of a Protector. Perhaps, in time, you or one of yours will have interest in that title."
Amet
@[Circinae]