great clouds rolling over the hills
and if you close your eyes, does it almost feel
He had bristled before at what he read as accusation from the black stallion, but at Errant’s quiet amendment Brennen relaxes a little, inclining his head in acknowledgement of knowledge that lies between them. And the history that lies between them. The once-General has few friends; few enough that anyone he’s known for a long time who isn’t an enemy probably passes as the closest he has to friends, and Errant falls somewhere within that strange sphere. Brennen will do what he feels is best for the Tundra – but if he manages to not alienate a sort-of friend in the process, he’ll consider himself ahead of the game. Plus, after this long he has realized that Errant is probably also immortal (at least after a fashion) and those are his favorite types of friends. The kind that don’t die easily.
For the most part, the younger stallions seem content to stay quiet. They want change but they don’t know how they wish to go about it – which is fine with him because they don’t really have the experience to be making those kinds of decisions anyway. The gray is less easily subdued by Errant’s easy confidence, and it is him that Brennen mostly watches as they spar words back and forth. He opens his mouth to reply at one point to Hurricane’s hard words, but closes it again and waits for Errant to do it. They’re throwing their suspicions at a wall – sure, yeah, there was no guarantee of success with Errant but there were no guarantees with any of them. They could all fail. At some point, they would all fail.
“The Magician-King of the Tundra. And doesn’t that just have a nice ring to it. Not much makes you feel more assured of your Kingdom’s superiority than that strength, combined with our others.” There is no sarcasm in his voice, nothing snide – he is perfectly serious, his amber eyes focused on Hurricane (he doesn’t even bat an eyelash at Errant’s pronouncement, as he was already well aware that the former King was more powerful than he usually let on). “Though I have to say, I think we can keep one madman out of our Kingdom without the aid of magic, if it comes to that. We are a Kingdom of warriors, are we not? I suspect any number of us could keep him out physically unaided, not to even mention we are many more than one. I would be willing to kill him, if he comes back, if it comes to that. I may not advocate that as a first choice, but I’ve seen my share of blood. I do not think ousting Mountain will be any particular issue.”
But that isn’t the one concern on table, is it? He glances around the group again, but he settles on looking mostly at Kratos and Hurricane. “Trust is earned, and you are right to be suspicious. But I daresay that would be a concern with any we chose to lead us out of this unfortunate interlude. After all, I don’t know most of you. You don’t know us. Trust is something we will build together, as Brothers.” He settles into a relaxed stance, tipping one leg up, tilting his head just slightly. “I daresay that Errant is our best option, at any rate. You’ve said you’re not interested. I’ll go ahead and state that at this time, I’m not particularly interested either. I don’t fancy being led by someone not yet really an adult,” he quirks a half-smile at Niklaus and Nihlus, to soften any unintended blow his words might impart, “so that leaves Kratos and Errant. And while I can’t speak to your character or lack thereof in any way,” he turns to Kratos, eyes sharp, “I’ll take the known over the unknown any day. Errant was a strong King. Any disagreements we may have had were minor, and on a personal level,” he gives a shrug with one overlarge wing, not really feeling that the details of his long life are any of their business. “You can’t expect him to rule forever. Everyone gets tired, and has other things to do with their life. The success or failure of the Kingdom after he left it cannot really be pinned on his shoulders. If and when he decides to step down again, we will choose a successor and judge them based on their own merit, not on his.” And with that, he goes silent. He hasn’t spoken that much in a least a year – even his interactions with Malka and his son had been less verbose. With her, he was careful and reserved. With Malyk, he preferred to listen.