the elephant king

The Elephant King’s ears had flapped once in annoyance as Tsavo’s velveteen paws landed on his thick, wrinkled grey skin. Though it was short lived, for the monarch has quickly appreciated how direct the lioness was with her approach to attacking the thicket. And, though he did not fully focus on his Seer’s appearance or words, he did vaguely hear the quiet murmurs the moon-cloaked man spoke to Erthe. And the tidbits that made it out of his subconsciousness were met with approval in the King’s mind.

But he was not left long to allow his mind to tally those who were gathered, for the thicket was speaking once again. They were derisive words—and, to the King, their intense ridicule and only highlighted the thorn’s desperation for survival. So he watched, with burning and angry eyes, as his molten magic charged into the core of the beast.

”I come with a warning, King, perhaps your should as well.”

The words echoed beneath his rage—though the King was not left long to take heed to the bramble’s ominous (and apt) warning, for suddenly his Queen struck at him. Auriel’s disappearance and Erthe’s cries were lost to the enraged blows they traded.

But then, as abruptly as their blows had begun, they stopped—though the thicket’s fire had grown during their brief battle of wills. The inferno crackled, drawing attention to the danger it posed. The Elephant knew only too well the dangers of a burning flame as large as this thicket.

“Take care of the fire. Warn others who were not here of the flames so that no more harm will come from these thorns,” his voice, hoarse with pain and over-use and smoke, still boomed over the clearing (though it cracked twice, and was not as easily heard of the roaring blaze).

But, even as he spoke, his attention was wholly focused on Elsa, his Queen, the Icebound shrouded behind her icy wall. His dark blue gaze was pained, hooded, exhausted, and guilty, despite the triumph of accomplishing one of the Lady Moon’s tasks. A soft, low breath pushed out of his nostrils, shaking slightly with the exhaustion that began to settle into has massive frame. Fighting his fellow monarch, retaining his elephant form for so long, sending his other magic into the thorns, being mentally accosted by the creature that lived in the thicket, standing strong when so many fragile lives were so close to possible danger… it took a toll on the Elephant. And it was beginning to show.

Tembovu

No matter how fast or far a man runs
he cannot escape his fate.