05-19-2018, 08:45 AM
The fire-bitten mare accuses him of being ‘a softy’, and though Brennen does not smile, the depth of affection in his eyes for the children she speaks of belies his solemn exterior. “It is a good thing,” he responds quietly, ”That most of the outside world still believe me to be a grim and heartless warrior.” The other half of that thought - ’as opposed to a doting papa and grandfather’ goes unspoken. “I am also glad that people are more likely to spread the sorely exaggerated tales of my fighting prowess than your pessimistic opinion that I merely ‘kick better than average’, he adds dryly, narrowing his amber eyes for a moment.
The banter between them lightens his heart considerably, at least for the time they can share here. It does not, cannot, alleviate his worry about his erstwhile citizens entirely, but it is good to know that the Brotherhood has strong friends, anchored by Brennen’s own deep friendship with Scorch, and his growing friendship with Solace and Kagerus. He considers the way the world is beginning to be shaped, and he is solemn. The fae had taken a dim view on their propensity to divide the Kingdoms before; into light and dark, or mythical and non-mythical. But he refuses to believe they would take offense to the defense of one’s own people; and despite the mischievous look on his old friend’s face, the bay King knows neither of them will commit their people to a war that might claim lives until Sylva or Loess truly gives them a reason.
He considers the appointment of Wishbone as heir to Nerine, and supposes it’s about time for him to choose one of his own. Before they enter any conflict, certainly, for certainty of his people in the unlikely case he should fall in battle. But however unlikely, he at least has been in a war. He has fought in the utter chaos of the battlefield; he knows the fearful difference between a structured battle on the challenge fields and the death on the plains of war. He knows that no matter how well-trained a warrior is, they can fall, in the protection of others. It is how he lost Jesper’s mother, his fierce daughter, who fell in defense of her own Queen.
Jesper, who has not reported back to Brennen, despite his promise to do so. It could be that he is simply unable to sneak a message past the borders of Sylva - or it could be that he is unable to form a message at all. Scorch pledges the Leviathans to back his Kraken brotherhood once more, the same fury at the thought of hurt to one of their own darkening her gaze, and Brennen says nothing but gratefully touches her shoulder with his dark muzzle. “I don’t want to keep you overlong from your own people, and your young heir. I will come, or send word, as soon as I learn anything more. If luck is with us, naught will come of it, and we can turn our attention towards hosting a social event for our Kingdoms instead. Jesper will be home safe, and though I do not believe Arthas to be stupid enough to offer harm to his own captive, I shall hope that Leilan does not annoy him into doing something stupid.” That draws a smile from him, because despite his own words he enjoys Leilan, who reminds him of a young Nihlus. “Your offspring seem determined to keep me on my toes, even when you are not around to do so.”
The banter between them lightens his heart considerably, at least for the time they can share here. It does not, cannot, alleviate his worry about his erstwhile citizens entirely, but it is good to know that the Brotherhood has strong friends, anchored by Brennen’s own deep friendship with Scorch, and his growing friendship with Solace and Kagerus. He considers the way the world is beginning to be shaped, and he is solemn. The fae had taken a dim view on their propensity to divide the Kingdoms before; into light and dark, or mythical and non-mythical. But he refuses to believe they would take offense to the defense of one’s own people; and despite the mischievous look on his old friend’s face, the bay King knows neither of them will commit their people to a war that might claim lives until Sylva or Loess truly gives them a reason.
He considers the appointment of Wishbone as heir to Nerine, and supposes it’s about time for him to choose one of his own. Before they enter any conflict, certainly, for certainty of his people in the unlikely case he should fall in battle. But however unlikely, he at least has been in a war. He has fought in the utter chaos of the battlefield; he knows the fearful difference between a structured battle on the challenge fields and the death on the plains of war. He knows that no matter how well-trained a warrior is, they can fall, in the protection of others. It is how he lost Jesper’s mother, his fierce daughter, who fell in defense of her own Queen.
Jesper, who has not reported back to Brennen, despite his promise to do so. It could be that he is simply unable to sneak a message past the borders of Sylva - or it could be that he is unable to form a message at all. Scorch pledges the Leviathans to back his Kraken brotherhood once more, the same fury at the thought of hurt to one of their own darkening her gaze, and Brennen says nothing but gratefully touches her shoulder with his dark muzzle. “I don’t want to keep you overlong from your own people, and your young heir. I will come, or send word, as soon as I learn anything more. If luck is with us, naught will come of it, and we can turn our attention towards hosting a social event for our Kingdoms instead. Jesper will be home safe, and though I do not believe Arthas to be stupid enough to offer harm to his own captive, I shall hope that Leilan does not annoy him into doing something stupid.” That draws a smile from him, because despite his own words he enjoys Leilan, who reminds him of a young Nihlus. “Your offspring seem determined to keep me on my toes, even when you are not around to do so.”