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The God of the Sun smiled as she explained herself, but that expression quickly turned into a frown at the subject matter presented to him to answer. He pulled his wings into his sides, and the fires that burned along his mane and tail dimmed considerably. Clouds began to pull over the sunlight, shading where they were standing, and he exhaled a heavy breath.
"Congratulations on your promotion, Avalon," he said firstly, trying to think on how best to answer her question. He was powerful and almost all knowing, but there was a certain amount of distance he had to keep from his siblings and their herds out of respect. Often, this proved most difficult as he wanted to protect the sanctity of his own herd.
A pact from the gods after a bloody war, long, long ago prevented him from entangling himself too personally with the mortals, but though he was loathe to admit it, he held a certain, rough care towards those who chose to live in the land he carved. And thus, he sighed, black smoke curling from his breath and into the atmosphere.
"The question you ask is difficult because those who live in the Basin are under my brother's protection, in a way," he explained, deep voice rumbling like a roaring fire. Rarely was the Sun God so docile, but in the company of his own, he seemed incredibly different - almost polite. "However, I can tell you that they are in the process of making a contract with the band who now resides in the Foothills." Ophelia.... He shook the thought of bitter, angry disappointment.
"The purpose of this contract seems defensive only, but terms often change. I can tell you that they are not mobilizing, and since Psyche's victory over Kri for prisoners, the lands have been quiet." The God of the Sun looked at her carefully. "Is there anything else that you wish to ask?"
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