04-03-2015, 07:42 PM
He is around. He’s always around – that’s the way he is. But sometimes he wanders – or his mind wanders, whatever his physical body does... even Mountain had once acknowledged his continued presence, though he never spoke to their mad “King”. There’d been Ianto’s dethroning and then the scorching heat – and as any sane stallion who had spent his entire life in the Tundra would do, Brennen had sought shelter in the deepest of caves until the heat passed. He cared for naught but the survival of the Brotherhood – and when the ice had returned, so too had Brennen.
But whatever else he is, it is not unaware of Errant’s slow reappearance from the form of the red man. Even if he hadn’t recognized him, which he does, the faded crown would spark the warrior’s mind. Brennen has a similar faded marking – his an X, once bold and white against his hip, but faded now. One or another of their intermittent Kings had taken his position from him, and Brennen hadn’t had the energy to care at that time. But something has stirred in him again, and something stirs in the Tundra, so when he sees that two of the Brothers are gathered he meanders their direction. And, ah….even before he reaches them, Brennen watches from the sky as the group grows larger.
His landing is graceful as ever and he hears quite a bit of what is said as he comes to stand amongst them, folding his overlarge wings and glancing from face to face, though eventually his eyes come to rest on Errant. “Brothers,” he drawls, “Errant.” He watches the former King for a moment longer, mulling the accusation of his incompetence in his mind. “Layton was uninterested in his inheritance. Ianto took the throne from Peppe and I, as was your intent, but…” he lets the words trail off, deciding this public forum is not the time nor the place to announce ‘but your son was an idiot’ or ‘Ianto didn’t have the drive to rule anything’ or any other derogatory comment about the slow unraveling of the once-amicable relationship between the short-lived King and his once-regent.
Their initial disagreement would have resolved. It would not have been world-ending for an old Regent and a young King to squabble, and Brennen would have come around out of remembered loyalty to an old ruling Family, or at the very least loyalty to the Brotherhood. But the young King’s apathy in the face of potential mutiny had been the last straw for the General, and he had supported Rapscallion. He’d seemed bright and eager and full of life.
Mountain was another matter entirely. “Murder would only bring attention from other Kingdoms we don’t want in our fledging state of new awareness.” He glances at the younger stallions with only the faintest hint of amusement. He was once that young – and he’d gone into a suicidal gladiator fighting ring to prove his worth to his father and the Brotherhood, so he can sympathize with their eagerness. “As for political support…” The once-general turns his honey eyes back to Errant, the memory of the black stallion as a child himself superimposed on the living man. “Well, you didn’t totally fuck it up the first time.” It’s not the eager declaration of support that Niklaus gave, but Brennen isn’t vying for that title himself. Not right now. More than once, he would have stepped up to that plate…including a period of time during Errant’s reign…but for now he would rather bide his time.
But whatever else he is, it is not unaware of Errant’s slow reappearance from the form of the red man. Even if he hadn’t recognized him, which he does, the faded crown would spark the warrior’s mind. Brennen has a similar faded marking – his an X, once bold and white against his hip, but faded now. One or another of their intermittent Kings had taken his position from him, and Brennen hadn’t had the energy to care at that time. But something has stirred in him again, and something stirs in the Tundra, so when he sees that two of the Brothers are gathered he meanders their direction. And, ah….even before he reaches them, Brennen watches from the sky as the group grows larger.
His landing is graceful as ever and he hears quite a bit of what is said as he comes to stand amongst them, folding his overlarge wings and glancing from face to face, though eventually his eyes come to rest on Errant. “Brothers,” he drawls, “Errant.” He watches the former King for a moment longer, mulling the accusation of his incompetence in his mind. “Layton was uninterested in his inheritance. Ianto took the throne from Peppe and I, as was your intent, but…” he lets the words trail off, deciding this public forum is not the time nor the place to announce ‘but your son was an idiot’ or ‘Ianto didn’t have the drive to rule anything’ or any other derogatory comment about the slow unraveling of the once-amicable relationship between the short-lived King and his once-regent.
Their initial disagreement would have resolved. It would not have been world-ending for an old Regent and a young King to squabble, and Brennen would have come around out of remembered loyalty to an old ruling Family, or at the very least loyalty to the Brotherhood. But the young King’s apathy in the face of potential mutiny had been the last straw for the General, and he had supported Rapscallion. He’d seemed bright and eager and full of life.
Mountain was another matter entirely. “Murder would only bring attention from other Kingdoms we don’t want in our fledging state of new awareness.” He glances at the younger stallions with only the faintest hint of amusement. He was once that young – and he’d gone into a suicidal gladiator fighting ring to prove his worth to his father and the Brotherhood, so he can sympathize with their eagerness. “As for political support…” The once-general turns his honey eyes back to Errant, the memory of the black stallion as a child himself superimposed on the living man. “Well, you didn’t totally fuck it up the first time.” It’s not the eager declaration of support that Niklaus gave, but Brennen isn’t vying for that title himself. Not right now. More than once, he would have stepped up to that plate…including a period of time during Errant’s reign…but for now he would rather bide his time.