09-05-2018, 09:36 PM
hold me in this wild, wild world
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
He is already on edge, being here in Sylva. They had, after all, either allowed or ordered the murder of two of his children. It is inhabited by the darkest of creatures, the vilest natures, and he is not a huge fan. When Arthas snorts in derision at Brennen’s title, it just pushes the bay a little closer to the edge of the tenuous control he has over his temper. Nobody wants Brennen to lose his temper right now (least of all Brennen!) – his control over the magic is too new, too uncertain. It is of the utmost importance that the King of the Krakens stays calm.
The gray’s next words don’t help the situation. The mocking tone, the jovial expression, has Brennen leaning in just slightly. The leaves underneath his hooves crackle, turning brown as the frost that is forming around his feet destroys them. “Less than a year,” Brennen’s voice is hard, because he can feel her here. It was one of the first things he mastered, after the alliance; he learned to see the ties between himself and any of his family members, to follow those ties and find them. There is nothing more important to Brennen than his family. “Astarael was here less than a year ago. You have a funny perception of time, Arthas of Loess. Strange, how you seem to have abandoned your own Kingdom to come here as soon as opportunity presented itself.”
Brennen remembers who had stolen Leilan away. He remembers almost everything. The name with the face is enough to place the history between this gray and his own Kingdom. Well enough that he had no intention of playing nice with the demons that live here, because that would have been nixed pretty fast. “Someone killed two more of my children in cold blood in the name of Sylva. Someone here murdered my former queen Krone, after stealing her away from her sanctuary in Tephra. Modicum Mortem and Astarael sanctioned the torture of my grandson and diplomat while he was a captive here.” The crimes of Sylva and its creatures do not roll off of Brennen’s tongue but fall like rocks from his mouth, flat, not even his laid back drawl to give them any flavor.
The frost has turned to an inch of ice beneath his feet, and the stallion has to make a concerted effort not to allow it to spread towards Arthas. “My daughter has much to answer for, from me and from others. But rest assured, if I were to find out you or anyone else had a hoof in her disappearance, you will regret it.” He smiles. It should be pleasant. It isn’t. “I will not hold you accountable for the crimes committed by this Kingdom before you…arrived to rule them.” There, he almost drips sarcasm, though a corner of his mind wonders how that went down, exactly. How does one show up and wrangle a herd of monsters, exactly? “I will, however, hold you accountable for anything that happens from this point onwards. And if I learn the identity of the one who murdered my daughters, one barely out of her infancy, no one and nothing will stop me from avenging them.”
Brennen doubts that someone who is willing to take on this den of disease and depravity will hesitate too harbor a murderer, even of innocent children, but Arthas can’t say now he hasn’t been warned. There are things that make Brennen angry – the torture of Jesper, for instance, and the murder of Krone. The murder of children is on a whole other level. He continues to hold the gray stallion’s gaze for several moments as he listens for a response, and then he simply vanishes, the same way he came, leaving behind the plate of ice with four distinct hoofprints in it. He has not lost his joy for flight, but at the moment he’s thinking of expediency.
The gray’s next words don’t help the situation. The mocking tone, the jovial expression, has Brennen leaning in just slightly. The leaves underneath his hooves crackle, turning brown as the frost that is forming around his feet destroys them. “Less than a year,” Brennen’s voice is hard, because he can feel her here. It was one of the first things he mastered, after the alliance; he learned to see the ties between himself and any of his family members, to follow those ties and find them. There is nothing more important to Brennen than his family. “Astarael was here less than a year ago. You have a funny perception of time, Arthas of Loess. Strange, how you seem to have abandoned your own Kingdom to come here as soon as opportunity presented itself.”
Brennen remembers who had stolen Leilan away. He remembers almost everything. The name with the face is enough to place the history between this gray and his own Kingdom. Well enough that he had no intention of playing nice with the demons that live here, because that would have been nixed pretty fast. “Someone killed two more of my children in cold blood in the name of Sylva. Someone here murdered my former queen Krone, after stealing her away from her sanctuary in Tephra. Modicum Mortem and Astarael sanctioned the torture of my grandson and diplomat while he was a captive here.” The crimes of Sylva and its creatures do not roll off of Brennen’s tongue but fall like rocks from his mouth, flat, not even his laid back drawl to give them any flavor.
The frost has turned to an inch of ice beneath his feet, and the stallion has to make a concerted effort not to allow it to spread towards Arthas. “My daughter has much to answer for, from me and from others. But rest assured, if I were to find out you or anyone else had a hoof in her disappearance, you will regret it.” He smiles. It should be pleasant. It isn’t. “I will not hold you accountable for the crimes committed by this Kingdom before you…arrived to rule them.” There, he almost drips sarcasm, though a corner of his mind wonders how that went down, exactly. How does one show up and wrangle a herd of monsters, exactly? “I will, however, hold you accountable for anything that happens from this point onwards. And if I learn the identity of the one who murdered my daughters, one barely out of her infancy, no one and nothing will stop me from avenging them.”
Brennen doubts that someone who is willing to take on this den of disease and depravity will hesitate too harbor a murderer, even of innocent children, but Arthas can’t say now he hasn’t been warned. There are things that make Brennen angry – the torture of Jesper, for instance, and the murder of Krone. The murder of children is on a whole other level. He continues to hold the gray stallion’s gaze for several moments as he listens for a response, and then he simply vanishes, the same way he came, leaving behind the plate of ice with four distinct hoofprints in it. He has not lost his joy for flight, but at the moment he’s thinking of expediency.
hold me in this wild, wild world
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
BRENNEN
@[Arthas]