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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    you can have my isolation. || warrick, amet & nayl
    #1
    you can have my isolation,
    you can have the hate that it brings.
      He is quiet during most of the journey, but it is not an uncomfortable silence.
     
       Warrick is, undeniably, one that he can be at ease with – there is no ulterior motive to his words or action, and he is deliberate, compassionate, and kind. He had been watchful for some time before ascending once more to a position of power, and he had seen him become the very heartbeat of Tephra itself – as much a part of the island as the looming, rumbling volcano itself. It would be foolish to not see his calm and upbeat demeanor as an asset – and though did had yet to say it to him (or say anything at all, really), there were very few he would rather take such a long and tiring journey with.
     
       The sun had not even set yet when their strong and muscular legs had entrenched into the salty brine of the sea, wading to the shore of the mainland and towards the west, where Hyaline lay. It had been some time since Offspring had ventured out (at most, he’d linger near to the Taigan border, disinterested in what lay beyond but content to be among the shadows and darkness of the thicket canopy), and he does not hesitate to permit Warrick to take the lead.
     
       So different, he and Warrick – one slender – finely muscled but still agile, and one behemoth, slow and deliberate but tall and built. One draped in darkness, and the other a blinding auburn under the shining sun, with faded accents of indigo. Yet, both brooding – irate,  alarmed, uneasy.
     
       He, because his own son had undermined his birth kingdom, and brought destruction to another with no cause or reason, and Warrick because he had developed some sort of connection with Hyaline – Offspring did not pry; he did not ask. It was not his place, but if the lingering scent of cherry blossoms, wisteria, and sweat were any indication, he would wonder if some small part of his heart remained in Hyaline.
     
       Alas, upon the arrival of dawn, the lingering scent of the fire’s devastation has made itself known, and their final destination lay just ahead. He is silent, the ridge of his brow line furrowed in discontent as the soft and supple greenery soon give way to charred remains and a blackened ground – for a long and quiet moment, his searing crimson eyes glance towards Warrick, observing the hardened plane of his face, the hollow beneath his eyes.
     
       It is worse than he had anticipated.
       It is worse than Levi had told him.
     
       And with that, hesitating at the border, he ceases his movement and with a tilt of his head towards the bright and blinding sky, he has called for the King, and together they wait.
    you can have my absence of faith,
    you can have my everything.
    OFFSPRING


    @[Nayl], @[Amet], @[Warrick]
    #2
    I am not afraid... I was born to do this.
    There is no peaceful silence, not anymore. When she walks, she can hear the grass break underneath her. Ash muffles her footsteps and the wind carries the stench of death. Hyaline cries underfoot as she walks from one hill to another. There is nothing left, nothing that she can remember. It had been so green and so lush. The lake rippled and the birds sang from dusk until dawn. When she first saw Hyaline, it was beautiful, but it’s now a shadow of its former glory.

    The crackling of grass beneath her pauses when she notices looming figures in the distance. She had not expected company, but alas, the other lands did not know about the destruction that laid waste. They may have seen the orange flames licking the sky, but no one came to Hyaline’s aid. It wasn’t until morning that Nayl arrived with Djinni to see what had happened. Since then, she has been wandering the hillside to observe how she can help, if at all.

    With an idle, sideways glance Nayl expects to see Amet soon enough, but she takes prerogative in meeting these strangers at the gate of her subkingdom while it flails beneath the devastation.

    ”Poor timing for a political meeting,” she mutters when she reaches them, her fiery eyes flickering among them, ”As you can see, Hyaline is rather… occupied.” In the pit of her heart, she failed them, but she doesn’t admit to this. No, instead she looks away wondering where Brennen had gone, where he has been that he offered no protection for the children’s home. While rage burrows into her soul, Nayl only mirrors an eerie stillness toward these strangers while waiting for the others to join them.

    queen of nerine
    daughter of covet & myrina
    #3
    Their journey is a silent one; brooding, simmering with a tension that, though was not between the two stallions, still lingers most heavily, even with their escape from the thick air of their volcanic home. His mind and heart are wrought with many emotions that leave the normally optimistic and bright stallion with a disheveled look that does not suit him. The two travel silently throughout the night, his indigo lips pulled into a thin line as he imagines the devastation that Hyaline suffered. He remembers the somber look in Amet’s eyes, the strain of defeat on his voice. It causes Warrick’s eyes to fall downward and absent as they travel, two silent and tired horses on the pale dusk of the horizon.

    He squares himself next to Offspring as they pull their weary legs onto Hyaline’s border, a familiar area that Warrick had graced not so long ago for a very different reason. He is a solemn and slender figure as he stands beside the large and looming mountain of a stallion, his blue eyes cool and crisp compared to the blazing red of his king. The sight that he takes in brings a frown to his navy lips, his jaw slacking as the scenery unfolds. There is an obvious trail that the group had carved out, singed and burnt beyond recognition. Warrick remains silent, his shock completely freezing him as Offspring’s voice rings out throughout the near-wasteland. He wonders if Amet would appear, a bronze and glittering shadow on the hill, wounded but not defeated.

    Instead they are greeted by another, an unfamiliar mare that Warrick has never seen before. By her immediate prowess, the blue-bay knows that she is of high importance, a royal figure that has come to Hyaline to see the damages as well, yet for completely different reasons. Her words are indifferent and factual, yet her voice holds a slight twinge of disappointment as she begins to speak to them. She is disheartened at the devastation, and Warrick is as well, but for reasons that he knew she would not care to know about.

    “Tephra came as soon as we heard. Amet sought me out himself. I consider him a friend of mine. I am Warrick.”

    Warrick’s blue-tipped ears flick backwards thoughtfully, his cerulean gaze tittering to Offspring for a moment, realizing that this woman might not be exactly as understanding as one may hope upon hearing the reasons behind the loss that Hyaline had been forced to suffer. He falls silent, letting his gaze linger on the two-toned mare for a moment before scouring the land once more.

    It is not as he remembers.
    like the sun,
    swallowed up by the earth
    warrick
    #4
    I'm gonna set this world on fire
    She hadn't been invited but fuck would that stop her... Ummm No!  What fun was being invited when crashing the party was so much funner... Yes I said funner.

    Her golden king had gone to get help and asked her to keep tabs on those crossing into his borders.  Not one for politics herself but seeing the distress on his face, the pleading in his voice - fuck he was cute - she decided to help in the only way she knew how...

    Invading minds

    They came quickly. Their minds reeling at the damage.  If they were here to take note of the destruction in passing they needed to move the fuck on.  Two stallions of questionable importance continued to advance into the kingdom.  Their thoughts getting louder.  But they stopped, called out and waited... Their king was gone at the moment so she took it upon herself to intercept them.

    Her flame kissed bod moved swiftly across the terrain as she closed the distance to the strangers.  Ruby tassels trailed behind her suspended in flight as her muscles flexed, hooves striking the ashed turf.  Her eyes met their sillouhettes but another was already upon them.  Ears flattened in annoyance on how this ones thoughts evaded her.  She hadn't slowed until she was on top of them, hunches buckled as hooves slid along the tattered land.  All the while she dug into their thoughts as she had traveled... 

    Levi

    The name rung in her mind with immediate familiarity and she questioned it instantly How do you know him?! She pushed the thoughts deep into his thick, dark skull.  A furious scowl riddled across her features.  Tail twitched in irritation as she waited impatiently.  Could it be true? And why would he come here if it was?  Fiery attention fixed solely on the behmouth.  Only once did her eyes shift to the others of the group before returning again for her answer... 
    MOLOTOV


    So I can't control her XD but her thoughts are only shared with Offspring at the moment.  Though she already knows the answer.  She doesn't realize Nayl blocks mind reading and she's never actually spoke words before so could have a communication issue here lol
    #5
    if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

    Nayl's voice echoes in his head even now, days after she had demanded Iset be removed from the throne of Hyaline. In his fury, he had agreed with the painted Empress, but now his heart aches for his sister and for the feeling of betrayal that still suffocates him in the middle of the night. Amet stands statuesque beneath his charred wisteria tree, amber eyes turned unseeing towards the murky lake. It is still clouded with ash and the corpses of deceased fish have all floated to the shoreline with the ebb of its gentle waves. The air is wretched still, but the gilded king remains firmly by the water basin. It is still his home, more so than the Dunes had ever been, and he will not abandon it.

    He is even without Castile now, thanks to Amet's own distraction and Ivar's well-timed intrusion. Hyaline is silent as it licks its wounds.

    A loud call draws the dragon king from his catatonia and he wonders if he should greet whoever stood at their -- his -- borders, or simply let them wait until they decide to venture in further or turn around to leave. Ultimately, his diplomacy wins, and Amet moves his slender metallic frame from beside the gnarled wisteria trunk and towards the outer border of his home, where the burned forests turn to shale mountain crests.

    He moves swiftly as his flared nostrils note the scent of Tephra on the breeze. Warrick, he thinks gladly, hoping that the navy-pointed stallion has come to see Tang. But as the Akhal-Teke nears, he sees that he is nearly late to a party where Warrick, Nayl, and Molotov have all gathered. His amber eyes find Warrick's companion, a commanding-looking stallion with scars that remind him of Iset's, who smells of brine and sulfur and appears to radiate heat the same way he used to see it curl from the summertime sands of his childhood home.

    He sees, too, the way Molotov eyes the black stallion with something akin to aggression and can only assume that she has found something in his head that she doesn't like. His gaze finds Warrick as uncertainty rises in his chest, but has faith that his Tephran friend would not bring a companion to Hyaline with ill intent, and so the gilded king decides that he must put a damper on whatever Molotov may be leaking into the black stallion's mind.

    His practice with the telepath, and his practice outside of Hyaline, would come in handy today. He takes a deep breath and feels his mind reach out to the group, a subtle blanket that will diminish any traits that they may hold, but not completely suppress them. He concentrates most of his effort on Molotov as he comes to a halt beside the telepathic mare, his nihilism creating a barrier between the mare and Warrick's companion so that she may not speak into the other stallion's mind, but only into Amet's. The dragon-scaled stallion bumps his hip into hers.

    Molotov, his thoughts coax her to read into his mind, I need you to play nice.

    After a brief moment, the young king turns his attention to the other three who have gathered. He nods to Nayl, thankful that she has decided to remain within Hyaline for the next few days, and then allows his gaze to find the Tephran stallions. "Warrick," Amet says warmly, though fatigue still plays at the edges of his words, "Thank you for coming." The sentiment is genuine, even considering the unexpected additional company.

    "Welcome to Hyaline," he offers to the immense black stallion, making sure to keep his own head raised proudly, "My name is Amet. I hope that the news I brought Warrick reached Tephra in time for you to increase security," he offers under the assumption that Warrick has brought Offspring to him, the King that his blue-pointed friend had mentioned just following the attack. "The last thing I want is for Hyaline's misfortune to reach the other territories of Beqanna." A dismal frown follows when Amet is no longer able to suppress it and he falls silent, just now curious why Warrick has brought the King of Tephra along for the journey.
    Amet


    @[Offspring] @[Nayl] @[Warrick] @[Molotov]
    Note: Basically, Amet used his trait negation to put a damper on the group, so Offy's exoskelly will be a little easier for him to hide ;), but mainly he blocked Molotov from telepathically communicating with anyone but himself ♥ at least for now. This will remain in effect for the duration of the thread, unless otherwise stated xD
    #6
    you can have my isolation,
    you can have the hate that it brings.
     It is not long until he and Warrick are met by another – lithe, agile, and undeniably beautiful - but terse and bitter, with a muttering string of words falling out of her mouth upon seeing them. His own gaze is settled upon her, tracing the curve of her cheek, the hollow beneath her averted eyes – she cannot even look at him, nor at Warrick, for any extended period of time, which is both unnerving and unusual.

     There is a fleeting moment in which he is longing for the days of old, when kingdoms had certain values, and some semblance of respect towards one another (even when tensions were high, boundaries were not often crossed, and behavior was kept in check to keep decorum intact). Even a name would suffice. Alas, he is not hopeful after his unproductive and wholly disdainful meeting with Kerberos – the memory of his crude language, vile tongue and hefty reproach has left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he is altogether wary of any other.

     If an island unto themselves they must be, so be it – Tephra did not need anyone else to stand on its own. It had been the first to rise, and it would be the last to fall.

     He does not, however, fault her for any discontent she may feel – admittedly, as he contemplates the dark, charred vegetation, and the once crystalline lake with its eerie sheen, he, too, would be devastated to find his own land in such disarray. He does not know with who she is aligned (and perhaps she has assumed he would know who she is – arrogant, that assumption would be, but certainly she is just too distracted by the destruction to offer a name), but it is Warrick who is then cutting through the tension of the unknown.

     Quietly, his own voice rises then, ”We are not here for a typical political meeting – Offspring; my apologies, I didn't catch your name?”

     But before anything else can be said, yet again, another has come, though with less grace and more ferocity – barreling towards them. He is soon grimacing from the invasion into his mind – the sudden presence of another, wholly unwelcome. His eyes bore into Molotov’s own, fire meeting with fire, with his browline furrowed deeply in disdain – he is not amused by her invasive intrusiveness on his own thoughts, which were his and his alone.

     How do you know him? she is inquiring, but alone with her mind – her eyes settled upon him, with a stagnant silence settled between them. He does not say anything to her, and though he cannot keep her from rifling through his mind, he does not give her an answer.

     It is then that Amet comes over the hillcrest, covered in gleaming, gilded scales, exuding a warmth of his own towards Warrick. There is a moment shared between them, before the gold-laden stallion look towards him, meeting him eye for eye and sharing his own introduction.

     ”Amet,” he says quietly, but evenly, slightly discontent at the way the festering flame within his chest has suddenly diminished into little more than a flicker (though it is somewhat of a relief that the flickering flame that so often lingered on his spine as residue of his exoskeleton is muted). ”my condolences for what has happened to your kingdom. I am Offspring. Shortly after the attack on Hyaline, my son returned to Tephra – you might know him as Levi.”

     He exhales softly, searching the hardened planes of their faces – knowing the repercussions that might lay ahead. ”I did not know of his intentions, nor of the attack until he spoke of it himself. To say that I am disappointed would be an understatement – his mother and I raised him better than that,” his voice is lower, then, resembling more a growl than a mumble. ”and I have come to give notice that though he is once more on Tephran soil, any further insolence on his behalf will be dealt with accordingly.”
    you can have my absence of faith,
    you can have my everything.
    OFFSPRING


    @[Warrick] @[Nayl] @[Molotov] @[Amet]
    #7
    I am not afraid... I was born to do this.
    Levi. Maugrim. Iset…

    Their names start listing off in her mind again.

    Deathwish. Kolera. Iset…

    The young girl’s name is more prominent, poisonous barbs stabbing into Nayl’s memory as her eyes roughly grate across the faces of the strangers. Her gaze burns with the fire that slithers along Offspring’s backside, her jaw clenching tightly in both thoughtfulness and frustration. They are likely wondering who she is, why she is here, but she doesn’t indulge them just yet. Her focus is still on the devastation that unravels behind her, but she still remains wary of them.

    Silence.

    She enjoys it briefly until Warrick speaks, his tone like a balm across her mildly scraping tone. Nayl regards him, nodding, and while her poise eases slightly, she doesn’t entirely relax. Her mind is reeling while they wait for the others to arrive, knowing well that Amet will be here soon. A young king, he is, and so she coolly listens to him when he eventually joins them. Before he speaks to the group, however, she can feel his presence hover above her and somewhat suppress her magic. Beneath her unruly forelock, Nayl’s eyes narrow. Although she has no need to bring anything to life, her mind is suddenly feeling more exposed than it had. The walls that protect her consciousness crumble and weaken enough for gaps to break though. A shudder crawls along her skin, but her face remains untouched by the aggravation of the negation.

    ”Nayl,” she finally says to the obsidian male, ”of Nerine.” She doesn’t elaborate, not feeling the necessity for titles or arrogance. There are more pressing matters than ranks which Offspring seemingly sides with as he doesn’t mention exactly what he is either.

    The mood of the group dims. They’ve come to offer condolences, but unfortunately, that won’t repair the damage. Their mirrored sorrows won’t resurrect the fish in the pond or regrow the grass and trees. ”Thank you,” she quietly says because there is not more she can add until she hears one of the names that has been burned deeply into her memory. Levi. It claws into her, reminding her. A deadly quiet hushes her as she listens, her eyes blazing beneath their curtain of hair. Her breath catches in her throat and her heart slams against her ribcage. Anger pours into her soul and ravages almost every peaceful thought she had. ”Levi,” she repeats aloud in a voice lacking any sympathy, ”your son…” The corded muscles in her jaws coil beneath her taut skin. ”There seemed to have been a flaw in your child rearing. This wasn’t just an ‘oops.’ He helped destroy an entire kingdom,” the ferocity is boiling just below the surface, but she keeps it tethered down just enough, suppressing the rage that nips at her heels. ”So, for helping to burn down a harmless kingdom, he gets a damn slap on the hand and a ‘naughty boy’?” A brow lifts and an exasperated sigh escapes her before turning her attention to Amet while still trying to fend off the greater bulk of her anger.


    queen of nerine
    daughter of covet & myrina
    #8
    Warrick takes a staggering breath as he continues to take in the scenery, the putrid smell of death and burnt vegetation stinging his nostrils as he inhales. His emotions are in a flurry, causing the sloping lines of his face to harden as his jaw tightens and clenches, an uncertain mix of sadness and anger resting solidly on his normally gentle features. He has ties to Hyaline, ties that he did not expect to make but is thankful for, and his heart aches for the kingdom that isn’t his and for the destruction that is not his business. He agreed to come with Offspring to the quiet and secluded Hyaline, desperate to somehow help the small yet thriving kingdom, but knowing that there is nothing he could possibly do.

    Another comes towards them, a bit of aggression in the way she strides towards them (though Warrick does not blame her, he is on edge as well back in Tephra, and the destruction had not even touched him there, not physically). She says nothing, but he remembers that she had also said nothing the first time he had met her here. The telepath was the first that he had ever encountered that last visit, and for a moment he wonders why her voice did not penetrate his mind like last time. Even without words, her expression and body language says it all. She is not happy with their presence in Hyaline and in response, Warrick lowers his head a few degrees apologetically, the movement causing his thick and tangled forelock to fall over his wide, concerned eyes.

    It does not take long for Amet to appear, the bronze-gilded stallion sparkling brilliantly in the winter’s sun; Warrick’s gaze lifts and ears prick forward, genuinely happy to see the young king’s familiar face. His pulse quickens as the blue-bay wonders if Amet knows of Tang’s current…state, but now was not the time to worry about that. With a soft snort, Warrick returns the dragon-scaled king’s greeting with a swift nod of his head. The stallion can see the uncertainty that plays loosely in Amet’s eyes, knowing that seeing Offspring as his companion would alarm him. Warrick’s eyes fall downcast, knowing that what Offspring was here to tell them would not be as light-hearted as Amet would probably be hoping.

    With no powers of his own, Warrick is not affected by Amet’s suppression of the others, but he could feel the tension rise even though no words have been spoken yet. It causes him to nervously ruffle the feathers of his large wings, their downy spines quietly brushing together and filling the silence.

    The rumbling, discernable voice of Offspring fills the void. Dutifully and obediently, the bay stallion bows his head so that his chin rests near his chest, listening intently and remaining stoically silent as his King explains what he already knew. For a long moment, Warrick does not look at anyone besides the hardened black of his own hooves, staring at the burnt and dead grass that had crushed easily with his weight.

    The silence that follows is even worse than the silence from before. It is ear-shattering, causing Warrick to finally glance up with sorrowful and troubled eyes – first to Amet, and then to Nayl. It is not his place to say anything, to offer apologies or to smooth the now strain that builds between the two kingdoms as they stand face to face. It finally breaks, with the venomous voice of Nayl filling his ears. Her words, full of maliciousness and the intent to wound, does not surprise him.

    Warrick is unsure if he should even look at Amet; the stallion had come to him out of gratitude and friendship, and now Warrick returns the favor by bringing him the knowledge that his home had been burned by a Tephran.
    like the sun,
    swallowed up by the earth
    warrick


    @[Amet] @[Nayl] @[Molotov] @[Offspring]
    #9
    I'm gonna set this world on fire
    Onyx eyes bore into the black mass before her.  Unknown to them the relations for which they shared.  Perhaps the blackness of her hide or flame imitated markings would some day reveal the lineage... But not today... Oh no flapping way today.  She was planted on steady limbs, muscle coiled beneath her flame kissed body.  His son's name left a bitter taste in her mouth and she almost wished he would have denied it.  Told them all he was sorry to hear of the destruction and nothing more.  Weasel back to his territory and hide away the fugitive.  If smoke could have billowed from her ears it probably would have. The temptation to be able to spill his secret would have made her freaking day! Ok... Year!!

    She had barely noticed the others gathered.  Didn't really know who they were but didn't really care either.  The pied mare had sass that Molotov could appreciate.  Encouraged even.  A dutiful presence at the gathering that gave her a bit of ease. Then there was this timid stallion.  Familiar even.  He was not as she remembered looking but his name rang true within her mind.  Ahhh yes, part of the threesome she so rudely interrupted.  Yes that was a fun day.  Words sat upon the tip of her minds tongue when a familiar glisten caught her eye...

    I need you to play nice...

    A burst of laughter almost spewed from her lips with a sarcastic hiss.  Play nice! Silly golden dragon king, nice is for Tang! She flashed him a glance and with a roll of her eyes she twisted a full 360.  The switch of her ruby tail catching the black stallion across the chest.  A smirk played upon her lips as she now faced Amet and continued to his side.  Was that nice? Her mind taunted the dragon king. 

    Things quieted quickly in her mind.  He did it again.  That thing he does with her powers.  Stripping her control and making it his own... Thief! She shouted to his mind.  Black stare narrowed upon his sleek form as she brushed down his right side and rounded behind him... Your no fun.  A devious one sided smirk following.  

    They were talking again.  Words she hardly cared to listen to until the dark ones admission.  His son's involvement and his confirmation it would not happen again... His son hurt Tang, Amet.  Are we just letting that slide?!  She had now completed her circle around him and stood nearly shoulder touching shoulder as she spoke into the only mind she could still enter.  How do we know he's telling the truth? That he won't set Hyaline on fire himself...?  She glanced to the others.  Warrick's eyes fell in what seemed to be shame as the pied mares words lashed out in disgust.  You go girl!  Unsure if she'd be heard but why not put it out their for everyone to hear anyhow.  Wandering eyes soon stilled upon her kings face... 

    Waiting...

    MOLOTOV


    Ooook so she decided not to leave... Yet.  If there is a weak break in Amets powers she may or may not be heard by anyone but Amet.  So thoughts shared are italicized. Do what you will Wink

    @[Amet]
    #10
    if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes

    Molotov acts as nice as Amet can truly expect her to be -- the flame kissed mare is fiery and stubborn, but he still frowns at her as she flicks her tail across the broad chest of Warrick's companion. No, in fact, it was not nice, his mind snaps back at her. The leather-plated stallion is on edge, and while his expression is friendly, his heart pitter patters far too quickly for what could be considered healthy. He releases a quiet sigh as he halts before them and shifts to bump his shoulder apologetically into Molotov's when she rounds him.

    She shouts 'thief!' in his head and the gilded stallion nearly grimaces, but is able to find his composure just as their conversation advances onto Offspring's introduction. He nods his head appreciatively at the other King's condolences, scales gleaming in the winter sun, and then finds that he is being rocked back, an involuntary step, at the black stallion's confession.

    Amet, now feeling positively gut-punched, loses handle on his nihilism, albeit for a moment. But after a shaky exhale, the young stallion is able to lay the invisible blanket over the congregation once more, just in time to turn his attention and gaze to Nayl. She is a spitting cobra, and it is enough to distract Amet from his own surprise. Levi. She is lashing vehemently at Offspring, Amet's ears fluttering backwards to rest with uncertainty upon the scales at his crest. He wants to be angry like Nayl, just to feel how it feels, but the golden king can only picture Him each time the anger bubbles in his chest. It makes way for sorrow, for disappointment, and Amet's chest is heavy with both.

    Molotov is yelling in his mind, bringing his thoughts to Tang even though Nayl is still speaking to Offspring. He can hear the way she screamed that night, he can see the way Levi's fire had lashed out at her legs. Amet can feel the anger now, and he dislikes it.

    The Akhal-Teke turns his amber eyes to Warrick, searching for... anything. But his gaze is not met, and Amet is left to wonder, fleetingly, if the navy-pointed stallion had known this when he'd run across Beqanna to Tephra. No, Amet scolds himself, he would have told you.

    When, finally, the King of Hyaline returns his amber eyes to Offspring and Nayl has turned her attention to him, he finds his voice, and is pleased that it is surprisingly confident. "I would like for Levi," he keeps himself from spitting the name, but there is a certain amount of terseness in his voice, "to assist in finding someone with the magic to restore Hyaline." Amet pauses, contemplating what he would like to add so that he may protect Tang, but also leave the door open for future diplomatic conversations with Tephra.

    "And when Tang visits Warrick in Tephra with their children," he turns his eyes to the winged stallion so that his friend knows there is no bad blood between them, "he will leave her and the twins alone. I want her to feel safe enough to visit, despite the fact that her attacker lives there." He hadn't known, at first, that Levi had been the Lost Boy to injure Tang. But after Molotov had worked her magic, Amet knew that Levi was the flamethrower.

    I trust that he will do us no harm, he finally offers back to his telepathic companion.

    And then, "Thank you. I have great respect for you coming to tell me this." A different route, perhaps, than he had originally considered immediately following the attack.

    You are young, Amet, but perhaps we will make a diplomat out of you.
    Amet


    @[Offspring] @[Warrick] @[Nayl] @[Molotov]




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