02-27-2017, 09:23 PM
She is less clinical and curious than he is;
About a horse’s shape or lands beyond their own but she has to admit that a king cannot go alone, and maybe she is just a little curious.
Sinew lounges in the ravages of Pangea; it is all rock, rock, rock and more rock. Somehow, she has come to appreciate the barrenness of it and she forgets of those places that are green and deep and reaching. But he comes, beckons her out further into the harsh daylight and she throws a stern look over her shoulder at the boys that linger in their parents’ wake. They’ll obey, but only for a little while longer and then they’ll test their might and mettle against Sinew and Pollock, she can see it in the way their eyes roll and their faces fall into a familiar sulk.
She understands the nature of their trip - neither friends nor enemies; and he has said not a word of either and still she trails him, her nose abreast of his golden hip. Her eyes are sharp, noting the limp that has come into his step as they traverse these new continents that have sprung up across the breadth of Beqanna. Nothing is familiar but nothing is altogether strange to her either - land is land, and they will always find some way to govern them just as he has managed to govern a lot of tricksters and murderers and dead, dead land. Here though, it is lush and this is not lost upon her because it is so unlike Pangea, so hospitable and temperate.
Sinew follows him towards the volcano; she coasts to a stop beside him and casts her black stare about for sign of someone. She glances at him momentarily, but his is the face of a king and not an envoy like hers’ is, schooled to careful neutrality as she offers nothing up in the way of small talk until someone takes notice of their arrival (unannounced as it may be).
About a horse’s shape or lands beyond their own but she has to admit that a king cannot go alone, and maybe she is just a little curious.
Sinew lounges in the ravages of Pangea; it is all rock, rock, rock and more rock. Somehow, she has come to appreciate the barrenness of it and she forgets of those places that are green and deep and reaching. But he comes, beckons her out further into the harsh daylight and she throws a stern look over her shoulder at the boys that linger in their parents’ wake. They’ll obey, but only for a little while longer and then they’ll test their might and mettle against Sinew and Pollock, she can see it in the way their eyes roll and their faces fall into a familiar sulk.
She understands the nature of their trip - neither friends nor enemies; and he has said not a word of either and still she trails him, her nose abreast of his golden hip. Her eyes are sharp, noting the limp that has come into his step as they traverse these new continents that have sprung up across the breadth of Beqanna. Nothing is familiar but nothing is altogether strange to her either - land is land, and they will always find some way to govern them just as he has managed to govern a lot of tricksters and murderers and dead, dead land. Here though, it is lush and this is not lost upon her because it is so unlike Pangea, so hospitable and temperate.
Sinew follows him towards the volcano; she coasts to a stop beside him and casts her black stare about for sign of someone. She glances at him momentarily, but his is the face of a king and not an envoy like hers’ is, schooled to careful neutrality as she offers nothing up in the way of small talk until someone takes notice of their arrival (unannounced as it may be).