Vulgaris
Had he been to Sylva before? It felt like a lifetime ago now but he vaguely recalls some kingdom he had temporarily dwelled within alongside Cellar. Maybe it was some other place like it though. His thoughts are too hurried to focus on any sort of memories like that now, though. He had spent too much time at the river trying to overcome his feelings for Leliana, for their budding family. Eliminating Sylva as a threat and forging it into an ally seemed like a good idea to him though. It meant Loess would be more safe for his children to reside there with him now.
He had expected things to require some measure of violence and he’s surprised when he comes upon them discussing their negotiations. His sage-colored eyes turn to Sinner as he proposes himself as the second viceroy of their fledgling empire. Vulgaris always hated compromises, always felt hungry to crush anything that stood against him and his desires. With this in mind, he eyes the most delicate parts of Sinner’s throat without commentary.
But then he notices the green and white creature reaching for Rey with his teeth and Vulgaris surges forward. His lips part to bare all the sharp teeth glimmering, waiting so patiently for their time. Diplomacy was not his forte – he only knew the language of blood and war. This much is evident when a guttural hiss slips from his throat. He considers Rey something important, something to be protected from filth and slaughter, and he is pleased to oblige.
“Maybe Sylva could shed some of its dead weight before you take their throne, Arthas,” he says in a voice that is oddly devoid of anger or mad desperation. His tone is something that is better suited for a refined banquet dinner, while his eyes cradle the essence of hunger and an unabashed lust for pain (his or theirs, it doesn’t make any difference to him). And then he falls silent like a dog waiting for its master’s command, to heel or to attack.
God, he just wants to chew someone’s face clean from their skull.