04-05-2016, 12:38 PM
BROTHER, LET ME BE YOUR FORTRESS, WHEN THE NIGHT WINDS ARE DRIVING ON.
I CAN BE THE ONE TO LIGHT YOUR WAY; I WILL BRING YOU HOME.
Though spring had sprung in the flatland, it was an unusually brisk, ice-laden morning - the brush and blossoms that were beginning to thrive beneath the warmth of the sun, without thick layers of snow to force it into submission, suffered greatly with a frost that came overnight and coated the terrain in its beauty. Everything sparkled beneath the pale morning light, and it was these chilling early hours that the black king loved best.
He rarely slept - his eyes were always searching and he was always listening - he had always been this way; too many rousing memories and stirring thoughts evoking the insomnia out of him. He most grew weary and tired beside his precious Isle, but she had been restless with the tumbling and rolling of a growing child within her and had difficulty with sleep as well. Any day now, he thought. He must stay close for the inevitable.
Today, his presence was virtually null. He stood towering on a ledge many feet up along the side of the mountain; peering and watching below. His mind was heavy and his heart was as well. Soon, though, he was pulled from his silent reverie by the shifting of movement across the permafrost-painted plain. He studied the movement for a long, hard moment, recognizing it as one Vaughan. He had been a difficult adjustment, and undoubtedly would be for some time, but he held promise. He had dealt with men with much thicker skulls than this one. He merely had a bite to his bark. Nothing that couldn't be handled, especially with a king made of sinewy muscle and scar tissue.
By the time Vaughan has ventured in, his rolling muscles and massive physique is loping idly towards the cave. He knows it will be some time until he emerges from it, and he knows from experience how it will affect him. His hefty weight causes thick imprints of his hooves to press into the moist soil as he waits, out of the line of sight. And he waits.
"Welcome to the Brotherhood." His voice rises above the echo of thin air as the boy searches around for the presence of any, but fails to look behind him. His searing red eyes set pointedly on the young, trembling male before him as he steps forward; his massive stature dwarfing him as he stands beside him. He studies the still burning, albeit healed mark settled across his shoulder - an anchor. Interesting. He had seen enough of them stranded upon various beaches in his time to recognize the symbolism of it; but what symbolism did it have for him?
"You don't have to, unless you rise in the ranks of our castes. Those who lead the castes must re-enter. You are now one of us; a Brother. You can lean on us in times of strife and depend upon us in times of need. We expect the same. I do not expect you to change; you are who you are. I would never stifle that. But I do expect respect, for myself and for your fellow Brothers." I will not hesitate to put you in your place, he says with only his eyes. Now is not the time for threats. His gaze wanders to the ruins, where memories of his loved ones splayed open and bleeding are still burned into his memory. "It's a terrible experience, isn't it? But it shows us what we are most afraid of, so that we may face our demons and fears head on. A blessing and a curse." He pauses, and then. "Interesting scar .."
He rarely slept - his eyes were always searching and he was always listening - he had always been this way; too many rousing memories and stirring thoughts evoking the insomnia out of him. He most grew weary and tired beside his precious Isle, but she had been restless with the tumbling and rolling of a growing child within her and had difficulty with sleep as well. Any day now, he thought. He must stay close for the inevitable.
Today, his presence was virtually null. He stood towering on a ledge many feet up along the side of the mountain; peering and watching below. His mind was heavy and his heart was as well. Soon, though, he was pulled from his silent reverie by the shifting of movement across the permafrost-painted plain. He studied the movement for a long, hard moment, recognizing it as one Vaughan. He had been a difficult adjustment, and undoubtedly would be for some time, but he held promise. He had dealt with men with much thicker skulls than this one. He merely had a bite to his bark. Nothing that couldn't be handled, especially with a king made of sinewy muscle and scar tissue.
By the time Vaughan has ventured in, his rolling muscles and massive physique is loping idly towards the cave. He knows it will be some time until he emerges from it, and he knows from experience how it will affect him. His hefty weight causes thick imprints of his hooves to press into the moist soil as he waits, out of the line of sight. And he waits.
"Welcome to the Brotherhood." His voice rises above the echo of thin air as the boy searches around for the presence of any, but fails to look behind him. His searing red eyes set pointedly on the young, trembling male before him as he steps forward; his massive stature dwarfing him as he stands beside him. He studies the still burning, albeit healed mark settled across his shoulder - an anchor. Interesting. He had seen enough of them stranded upon various beaches in his time to recognize the symbolism of it; but what symbolism did it have for him?
"You don't have to, unless you rise in the ranks of our castes. Those who lead the castes must re-enter. You are now one of us; a Brother. You can lean on us in times of strife and depend upon us in times of need. We expect the same. I do not expect you to change; you are who you are. I would never stifle that. But I do expect respect, for myself and for your fellow Brothers." I will not hesitate to put you in your place, he says with only his eyes. Now is not the time for threats. His gaze wanders to the ruins, where memories of his loved ones splayed open and bleeding are still burned into his memory. "It's a terrible experience, isn't it? But it shows us what we are most afraid of, so that we may face our demons and fears head on. A blessing and a curse." He pauses, and then. "Interesting scar .."
OFFSPRING
the ice king of the tundra