He took a deep breath; it expanded the cage of his barrel. The black-sheen of his banded marking undulating as thick hide moved over large intercostal muscles. His eyes closed for a moment, navy lost behind black, as he mentally tried to grasp onto the calm that had suddenly settled into him once Alysanne had approached.

But, as waves on the sand, it slowly slipped and ebbed from his mind. Gone was the clear thought he had had while ending the meeting. Gone was the transient peace in his mind. Instead was guilt and uncertainty: Elsa, Mauja, Nyx, Orithia. All those that had spoken so rashly in the meeting.

The breath slowly pushed out past his black nostrils, lips pressed tightly together as navy eyes flare open—just in time to notice that Alysanne was drifting away from him (and with her left the calm; interesting) and to catch the subtle jerk of her head for him to follow. Despite (or perhaps in defiance of) all the unrest in him, a faint lopsided grin curved up the corners of his pressed lips; not yet Queen for a full day and already the Devoted was issuing demands to her King.

Heavy ivory hooves moved slowly at first as the King tried to gather his thoughts and mind. But then, with a forced and heavy exhale, his motions loosened and grew free. He had spent the entire meeting (and most of his days) thinking and planning and doing Kingly duties. But here, in the company of those he now ruled the Edge with, he could freely be himself. Still a King, but also wholly Elephant.

It was only now, as he approached Alysanne and Muaja, that he noticed the ornate halter that adorned her face. It was lovely and delicate and beautiful—perfectly attuned to the piebald beauty. A few creases on his face relaxed, eyes warming slightly (though always ever slightly on-gaurd around the testy healer) at her sudden, doubtful question. Though she had sounded strong before the herd, it seemed that she, too, let such regent-shields drop around those she would lead alongside.

“Yes, I am sure, Alysanne,” his deep rumble was easy, certain. Though the ease fell away as he continued after a short pause, “Elsa was a good Queen, devoted to protecting and growing the herd. But she and I—“ again, he paused, uncertain as to how honest he should be… And then his ears suddenly laid back, who was he to hide the truth and paint himself in a better light? Was not that the very foundation of the evil he had fought? “—I was not entirely truthful with her, and we shared intimacy as well as leadership. I believe that is what led her to step down…” His navy eyes glanced away, shame and guilt upwelling as he shouldered through his blame to his explanation, “And you, Alysanne, are someone who will not only stand up to me, but also will not let me fall into the same habit as I did with Elsa.” He had put it delicately, but his eyes still warily snapped back to the newly-crowned Queen; would his words bring her biting rebukes?

“And I meant what I said about your devotion the herd. You have been here longer than I. The Edge will be better for your leadership,” and, with the ending of his deep rumble, his eyes looked to the spotted man. Navy gaze traced the share blade of his moonlit scythe, before a few slow steps brought the giant closer to his friend.

“Mauja,” his low rumble was quiet and questioning, pausing for a moment to reach out and attempt to gently brush his spotted, silken shoulder, “Your thoughts?” And so he enlisted his friend in his capacity as Emissary: advice.