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»› C A S S I U S ‹«
The excitement of entering a new land nearly blinds Cassius. He hardly thinks to stop and ask what Frost thinks. The novelty of being led into an ally’s lands is far more alluring, than idling at the borders and making their way off. The thought barely scratches the surface. Truly, Frost’s breath is hidden in the coolness of the air.
He catches her gaze however, as she’s pointedly smiled at him. And for a moment he wavers, hesitates - whoops, I did something wrong – didn’t I? Ultimately it was his call, the newest disciple in the Basin has deemed their entry suitable – was it that laughable? Perhaps, but as his grin wavers he reaffirms it with a steady hum. He can’t have Frost thinking he’s done this all wrong. Surely there is some benefit accepting Syrena’s offer? Cassius, feeling as though one day is not enough to share all there is to this land – intends to revisit at some point to exchange stories. Hopefully, gleaming insight into this beautiful, strange and dark land.
It settles his soul that Altair is sent behind them. He is their insurance, if things do not end well – but the stallion remains optimistic. Despite the Storyteller’s lack of emotion, there must be a good reason for her role. And thus he follows at a more relaxed pace, attuned to Syrena’s voice. Just as grateful to have Frost's shoulder brush against his; it is a pleasant reminder that they are not alone.
Syrena offers a jest – or nearly one. And Cassius can’t help but smile with her interjection – staving a small laugh from his lips. He does not want to seem too giddy at the moment; otherwise he might as well have aged back into a colt again. Innocent, wide-eyed and predictable – a need to please wafting from his personhood, “One would assume so.” Because such is not the case for Cassius. It’s a rather flat reply, but he would not give away his newly acquired title so easily. He wanted to be taken seriously after all, but not too seriously. Otherwise, what was the adventure in all of it?
With a steadying breath, one crisp and hinting of the moisture they approached, he looks to Frost to answer her first question. He does not understand how the Basin wishes to present themselves; as formidable foes, untouched by inactivity? It would lend to a front, an image that they then must uphold. But if they were honest with one another – would that present an unacceptable weakness?
He trusts Frost would know better than him. And lends Syrena’s ears to her otherwise silent voice. Cassius has not the heart for politics, but perhaps he could learn its subtleties in time.
At least he can offer something for her second question. Careful not to tread too close to Frost’s expertise.
“The one who calls himself Kisamoa.” He speaks up, “The Basin thought it prudent to seek as much knowledge as we could about him… If you would not mind to offer what you’ve encountered thus far?” It is a small anecdote, one that trails off, allowing space for Frost’s voice to commandeer their purpose.
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