He offered bits about Dorobo; he offered more about his time in Helovia, the Rift wars, his regency in the Edge. He asked more of those he traveled with: their stories, or what they were willing to share; of their histories in Helovia; of anything they knew about the Throat. Anything to pass the time of the long, laborious walk to the Throat.
And, eventually, the came to the sea. The Elephant King came to a slow halt between two large, tall, decorative pillars. Deep, navy eyes glanced carefully up the length of each, curiously, before staring across the vast expanse of sea to a distant island—though, as he watched, he found a small bit of loamy earth tumbling into the sea.
His ears perked; his brows raised—but he turned his attention to the matter at hand. A low, deep bellow came from deep within his barrel, “Dragon’s Throat! The Edge seeks an audience with you!” Briefly, he wondered just how anyone from the Throat would hear his call all the way across the sea. But, somehow, these things had a way of working out.
DIPLOMATIC CONVOY ASSEMBLE!
@Tandavi @Lyanna Are the ones that expressed interest in the meeting, I think? Anyone else feel free to join!
Hey DT, we're here to talk treaties ;)