the elephant king
The appearance of a dark, looming form slows his pounding hooves even more, despite his mind begging screaming at him to continue running towards his love and their children. But there was something ominous about the approach of this body, and he was just running on blind hope that he’d somehow find Rexanna and their twins. His head whips, ears swiveling at the sound of his name—a slap to the frenzy his ignorant unease had churned his mind into. His confused, dread-glazed eyes slowly sharpened on the deathly blue gaze of the Aurora Basin Lord, a fellow monarch.
His lengthy strides abruptly halt, heat rolling off his hide and distorting the air around it as sweat dripping from his massive, slicked body. His great muscles resented their sudden stop, quivering and tremoring beneath black skin. His seat-darkened face pins on the Lord, ears immediately pinning as his urgency to see his children (were they still alive? were they healthy? what did they look like? how had Rexanna named them?) pushed aside the patience he had fostered for diplomacy. Who cared for alliances when his own flesh and blood were now breathing and beating somewhere within the Basin?
Such rash thoughts caused him to snort at the Lord’s not-so-subtle rebuke for him rushing into the Basin, his body nearly vibrating with the need to run beyond the death-touched man to where his heart’s desire laid. But, the thoughts chaotically crashed in a brain that was drenched in adrenaline, he did not even know where that was.
So he took a single, slow, deep breath amid the roaring gasps for air, “Diemos,” he said between heaves, “My apologies,” though it was clear this was a perfunctory reparation, “Rexanna has had my children and I must see them,” this last statement, however, was clearly said wholeheartedly as his eyes blazed at the Lord who now held the answer to his deepest want.
Tembovu
No matter how fast or far a man runs
he cannot escape his fate.
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