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02-19-2015, 01:38 PM
The princeling roamed in a stranger manifestation, not exuberant, not ebullient, not christened in droves of mischief or sedition, but seemed rather reclusive, quiet, slinking and slithering from the edges of their borders, drawn towards the crowd but not hovering in its midst. Distracted, his stare went from one member to the other, looking distinctly for Arah in particular, because he held news only for her (neither his father nor Ophelia could be the first, it wouldn’t be right or fair, the Impersonator should have the notification before anyone else, then decide what to do with it, where to jumble the pieces). Much to his disappointment, however, she’d yet to appear, and his mouth drew to a fine line, deliberating and calculating. He’d have to be patient, a skill he’d yet to acquire, and while his sire and the Forsaken spoke (his spine gave an earnest chill at murders, at mayhem, at thoughts of death and desecration), he loomed, wary, hesitant, skull twisting and turning at each member wandering into the midst. He spotted Zikar-Sin, a master of lessons and peculiar nuances, Aviya, promising to follow in her father’s footsteps, their current Time Mender rendering hopes and dreams into her ambitions, Rhiannon eternally offering her services, and a few others, but still no Rikyn, or even Aithniel (something in his chest tumbled and clenched, stare downcast, disappointed, disenchanted; Musketeers with no arms or swords broadening the horizon). The little heathen’s heart did pulse in comfort and composure when he saw Adelric and Tobias, maneuvering quietly to settle alongside them, constantly distracted in hopes of spotting the ivory doe wayfaring from the hills or tundra. OOC;; --- TAG;; @[ ] |
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