I'M NOT SOME BOY THAT YOU CAN SWAY
Here he was doing the grunt work when only two years ago he and Mountain were overthrowing a missing King in a dead kingdom...and then Rapscallion got swept away by women and his dark inner thoughts. Youth is wasted on the young but he was still young, just wiser now as a five year old.
Wichita and he were due to travel to the Dale, he felt more comfortable going forward without her; their last assignment had been the Amazons and as a man he wasn't sure of their policies. He was brave but he wasn't brave enough to be kept as a torture mechanism or killed on an instant; he would be okay being a sex slave he thinks. Rapscallion cannot remember the women he has slept with, they wanted a child and who was he to deny them? He is so indifferent about it all. The winter had been kind to him compared to constant crippling winters of the Tundra; their warmest days were slightly above freezing. The buckskin had grown quite a shabby coat and seemed to be the only traveler on the path, through the valleys, to Forbidden Dale. He didn't mind being alone, he had spent most of his life as he knew it alone - it was comforting. His pale green eyes came to an opening, seeing a few horses huddled together for extra warmth he slinks towards them. First, he neighs to give them a formal acknowledgement of his presence; words weren't his forte.
He waits for someone to speak to him, he can't be missed - he rather handsome despite his coldness, a long lean neck and strong shoulders like his uncle and father; both former King's of long ago. Genetics can only pass down so much though, he got looks from his father's side but his heart and diseased mind from his mother. He wonders briefly if Wichita is safe and if perhaps she has birthed her child, if the child will be coming too - Rapscallion has never been around a child to know the etiquette.