ALL KINGDOM [mandatory 12/15 deadline]

[munroe]

MUNROE. Perhaps second chances were meant to be given. The black beast was relaxed and calm – no aggression to be seen. It was a stark contrast to their last encounter. This put the wild child off guard for a moment, but no signs of deceit lingered amongst the other’s body language and Munroe felt it safe to release his tensed muscles. Perhaps his long disappearance had changed him – a journey that made his spirit grow in leaps and bounds. The other’s soft smile and gentle words are reminiscent of Ima’s taming of his heart. He had been but a desperate, wild thing when she had discovered him all alone on that fateful bitterly cold midwinter day. By now Ima’s winged child and a stranger has approached them both – they are barely registered into the background of his awareness. It wasn’t until he belatedly realized that Ima had also appeared that his unblinking gaze was finally disrupted. He can’t ever seem to completely hide the absolute joy whenever he catches sight of her from showing up in his expression. His eyes even smile when he acknowledges her presence with a deeply contented expression. But he had a responsibility to carry out and he does not linger with her long before returning questioning eyes back to the black stallion. He had calmly accepted the wild child’s accusation and had even mentioned hurting Munroe himself. He’d never considered that maybe he could have been considered a victim as well. He hadn’t thought much of the other’s spiteful words at the time. The wild child merely cared that Ima had obviously suffered during his period of absence despite her forced show of happiness. His words seem to ring true and without haughty pride lacing them. Munroe can see the regret that is driving the other’s last question. “I believe. I forgive. Don’t hurt Ima no more?” And his previous bristling hostility has completely fallen away for he is simple in his ways. A grudge long held easily vanished with the addition of heartfelt repentance. He steps into the other’s space with a quiet confidence and noses at the puzzling leathery wings. They are similar in function yet don’t resemble Ima’s in any way. Even the winged girl’s are fluffy and soft, albeit a different color. But these wings were sleek and dark and powerful, with none of the warmth and comfort that he associated with Ima when wrapped within her golden embrace. He felt that they were a perfect contrast to hers. “I like. They pretty.”