Cera
_{They doused your soul in water but the flames raised higher}

Though this is his vessel to carefully steer through the choppy waters of diplomacy, the Prince is not without his supportive entourage. Together their personalities created an odd, distilled mix; far more intriguing than oil and water, gleaming bright and sharp like an array of different metals. There are things that lay beyond his grasp of consciousness, but where his steps falter in his mind, Ampere strides forward to support the weak link of his knowledge. There is no note of sourness as she smoothly utilizes the King’s title, the Prince welcoming her personal experience with a hidden wry grin at the blunt, grey-area question that lilts off her tongue. Cera is often perceived as too kind for sharp words and the cut of reality, and while someday he is sure to display those attributes, it does nothing to prevent his own private amusement at Ampere’s attractively graceless nature.
 
Luckily it did not seem to have much of an effect on the towering King, his words as gilded as Cera’s hide, though the Forger did not mind the social dance. It always had a way of removing the familiarity of words, the subtle shifts that spoke of more than facts and allegiances. “Take as much time as you require,” Cera offered simply with a dip of his cherubic face. Though his tongue desired to suggest a thousand projects beneficial to the topography of the Edge, he refrained. Whatever they sought of his skills would be completed, so long as Maren’s church was actualized.
 
As Anzanie was brought into conversation through the slow rumble of Tembovu’s voice, Cera cast his gaze obligingly towards the painted mare. His heart ached at the mention of a child, remembering bicolored orbs and soft, stuttering phrases. A child of ebonite and ruby, disappearing without a trace into the frigid north, leaving a similarly frigid hole in his and his sister’s hearts. It prompted the soft words that came next, a tone of somber understanding, perhaps even grief and sympathy for those in company who knew him well enough. “I or a soldier will be sure to escort you back home when you have finished, Miss Anzanie. No trouble will keep you from your foal and family if we can stop it.” It was spoken a little quieter than previous words, a more intimate phrase that did not require the stiff formality of their meeting.
 
Emerald eyes flickered back to Tembovu with a gentle veneer cast upon his obstinately young features. “I shall pass on the greeting. Thank you, Tembovu. We will see to her comfort.” With a fleeting smile the Prince directed his nod towards the land behind him, beckoning Anzanie into the wilds with he and his sisters, to the desert where the structure awaited her. 

- - -

AKA Brit sucks, life sucks, here's a late post to wrap things up