i'm like a time bomb, ticking in your head | hurricane

[Offspring]

lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all.
but lend me your heart and i'll just let you fall.

  The corners of his lips tug up into the faintest of smiles - perhaps more of a smirk, as it was barely present - but it faded softly moments later. He had not thought for even a moment that Hurricane might not know who he was - he himself had spent more than sixteen rotations of the moon beneath the pale, starlit night sky and within the icy confines, all without having seen a trace of him. He knew, however, that did not mean that he had been absent. He had seen him shift his visibility, and understood early on that Hurricane was not the type to remain in a single space for too long - nor was he the type to openly press for answers unless there was a necessity for it.

  His own presence in the frostbitten flatland had evidently not stirred any concern, and now as he observed the other - his dark crimson gaze bore into that of his King, as their difference in stature was quite pronounced (he himself was a mass of above average height and sinewy, tense muscle and bone). But within his steely gaze he could see and sense that he was a good King; he had kept them from ruins in a tumultuous time, which was more than anyone could say for many of the other kingdoms. He had not been bloodthirsty, and he could appreciate that - he himself did not crave the violence, nor the bloodshed that had inevitably tainted the land red.

  He listens, quietly, shifting his hefty weight from one leg to the other. His dark tresses hang over his dark eyes, though he leans his cheek to the left to nudge it aside to better assess the gray winged beast standing before him. He could sense the very tension in his bones; and the way that he studied him might cause unease in any other - but Offspring had lived too long and seen too much to be disturbed by a set of peering eyes. He returned the fiery gaze, imploring and non-confrontational, but unafraid. He could sense the weight of judgment, and it held no consequence to him. He was as he always had been - with over a century of life beneath his proverbial belt, it was needless to say that he feared little. He had seen so much. He had seen it all.

  He dips his neck then, acknowledging his words with a steady nod before peering out along the flatland, staring at the very caves he had been told stories about as a young boy. He knew of their power, their danger - and he did not fear what they had to offer. He had been through worse, he had long ago decided. He had been facing his demons for the past seventy years.

  "There are many changes in the kingdoms - there is a shift in the hierarchy in the Chamber, and trouble in the Gates - but I have heard nothing ill spoken of our own kingdom," He finally says, his baritone rumbling deep within his chest. "I dare say we should be at a minimal threat for at least a while."

  However, with new hierarchies came new ideals, and with new ideals came new or folding alliances. Change was in the midst, even with the oncoming lull of a post-war mourning. He knew this much.

  "I heard the stories as a boy. I will do what it takes. I am ready for it whenever you will me to do it, Hurricane, and I am certain the Brothers will be as well." He pauses, staring into the unmoving, stoic features of the dapple gray male, "What sort of change do you have in mind?"

OFFSPRING

@[insane]