09-27-2018, 06:34 PM
The fire-eyed creature claims that his suspicion is borne from concern for Sylva and the residents of his kingdom, but I have known these woods long enough to doubt the word of any that call it home. Still, there is only so far that my sovereignty reaches, and I am unwilling to press too far this early in the game. Sinner seems to have taken what I had intended as a claim to alternate talents as a declaration of Arthas' lack of them, but I do not correct him. I had told the dappled king that I would assure Sylva's reputation among our allies - it is not my responsibility to manage his reputation as well.
The comment about puppeteers elicits a faint smile on my dark mouth. It's something I have wondered as well, though most of my time is spent puzzling over to whom I owe my true allegiance - who am I puppet to. To Arthas, my husband and king? Or to Wolfbane, the king we had both served until a few months past? Neither feels entirely wrong, but nor does either feel truly correct. I've given thought to being my own master, especially of late, but the time does not seem right. Perhaps tomorrow, or next month. Perhaps never.
"Loess and Sylva have been at each other's doors for the better part of four years. The borders have been open as part of our alliance since Arthas helped create it." I reply, and it seems from the quirk of my navy mouth that I might be amused about this, or perhaps the fact that he doesn't know. "Though I suppose if you've been hiding out in the woods for a while, that does explain you not knowing that. And the fact that I don't remember seeing you at all in the year I lived in Sylva."
He might have held a rank in the forest then, but it was not one that required frequent socialization. I had seen most of the residents, after all; such was the life of a captive of rank.
Tell me more about yourself, he says, and I seem to search again for something in the creature's eyes. Whatever it is, I give no indication of whether I've found it or not, and I simply shrug my shoulders and reply.
"I've been Cleric of Loess for two years. Prior that I lived as a captive in Sylva for a year, and before that I ruled Loess, which was given to me at birth by my father." Straightforward and parsimonious, I doubt that is entirely the answer that Sinner wants. "My favorite food is mangoes, and I hate the cold." That's probably not what he wanted either, but there is telling twitch in my mouth that says I am amused, at the very least.
"And you, Sinner?"
The comment about puppeteers elicits a faint smile on my dark mouth. It's something I have wondered as well, though most of my time is spent puzzling over to whom I owe my true allegiance - who am I puppet to. To Arthas, my husband and king? Or to Wolfbane, the king we had both served until a few months past? Neither feels entirely wrong, but nor does either feel truly correct. I've given thought to being my own master, especially of late, but the time does not seem right. Perhaps tomorrow, or next month. Perhaps never.
"Loess and Sylva have been at each other's doors for the better part of four years. The borders have been open as part of our alliance since Arthas helped create it." I reply, and it seems from the quirk of my navy mouth that I might be amused about this, or perhaps the fact that he doesn't know. "Though I suppose if you've been hiding out in the woods for a while, that does explain you not knowing that. And the fact that I don't remember seeing you at all in the year I lived in Sylva."
He might have held a rank in the forest then, but it was not one that required frequent socialization. I had seen most of the residents, after all; such was the life of a captive of rank.
Tell me more about yourself, he says, and I seem to search again for something in the creature's eyes. Whatever it is, I give no indication of whether I've found it or not, and I simply shrug my shoulders and reply.
"I've been Cleric of Loess for two years. Prior that I lived as a captive in Sylva for a year, and before that I ruled Loess, which was given to me at birth by my father." Straightforward and parsimonious, I doubt that is entirely the answer that Sinner wants. "My favorite food is mangoes, and I hate the cold." That's probably not what he wanted either, but there is telling twitch in my mouth that says I am amused, at the very least.
"And you, Sinner?"
