paper crowns; kratos

[Romek]

It's been a long time since he has stepped out of the Deserts, and now he remembers why. Outside of the Light Mythical kingdom, horses seem to be even more annoying than usual. Not that it is their fault, of course, they can't help being irritating little shits. Not many horses can.

He knows he is being unfair and hypocritical but he is too angry to care. One might even call him unhinged but unfortunately the hinges are definitely there. He has far too much pent up frustration and nothing to do with it. He would protect the Deserts, but there is nothing to protect against. It's peaceful and quiet - not that he wants it any other way of course.

Of course.

So instead he takes to his hooves, travelling across the expanses of Beqanna in an attempt to burn off energy. Perhaps he will be able to sleep tonight. That would be a nice change. These days his dreams are more like nightmares, haunted by faces that aren't faces anymore. Faces that have melted into boney grins, sockets and hollows.

Somehow he has wound up at the Tundra, so distracted was he. He's not sure how far in he is, but it shouldn't be too far as he stopped as soon as he smelt the brothers. He's not completely disrespectful, and he would never intentionally trespass - his manners are too deeply instilled into him. But he has never been to this kingdom before, to his memory anyway.

Clouds are gathering, heavy and grey. He would turn around and leave but he's not quite sure of the way anymore. He decides instead to wait it out. Someone, surely, would be along shortly.

[Kratos]

The Tundra weather had never really effected Kratos much, he found that his skin was always too warm to the touch and his internal temperature stayed unnaturally high anyway. But even despite this, he had grown a shaggier coat than he had ever had in his father or mother’s kingdom, which in turn had given him the illusion of being even bigger than he already was - which is pretty fucking big. So even as the wind came howling and biting through the Tundra, Kratos is unbothered as he busies himself indulging on a few (several, actually) patches of caribou moss. His attention only flickers away from his meal when the wind brings him word of a visitor, from the Deserts by the smell of it.   When the titan crests the knoll his eyes seek Romek’s frame immediately, he recognizes the large stallion with the glowing spots from his childhood days in his father’s kingdom. He couldn’t place him by name but then again Kratos hadn’t been the type of prince to care too much to learn the names of the adults in the Deserts – he had chosen to spend his time shocking the shit out of the camel herds and wreaking other forms of havoc.   A storm bellowed hauntingly in the distance,  the sound rolling across the Tundra like a heavy drum and when Kratos comes to a stop a few paces from Romek, his voice is just as heavy as the thunder, “it’s about to be a bad time to be lost in the Tundra,” he says. And with a tilt of his heavy white head he indicates to the fat, grey thunderheads that loomed above them, “you’re a long way from the Deserts,” he says, catching Romek’s gaze with eyes far too much like the old dragon king’s, “my name is Kratos.” But he was sure he would already know that – Vanquish only had one favored, spotted son.  K R A T OS vanquish x lyric