Where the sun goes, the storm follows. Kaj trails peacefully behind the painted lady, desiring only to see her safely to the borders. He does not always approve of her gallivanting across Helovia, fearing she would be snatched up for her title and held in captivity where he cannot protect her. But he keeps silent, allowing her heart to be free while he submits to their duties within the herdland. Kaj would rather she be happy than stuck with him where she could not explore and be free. He would proudly hold his responsibilities and be happy with her own happiness.

Thoughts are interrupted by the smell of old iron. Blood. Harks drift to half-mast and eyes narrow, the scent of wilds touching his nostrils not moments later. Kahlua advances to the border, eagerly announcing herself and welcoming the newcomer still unseen to Kaj. Uncomfortable with leaving his Queen in the presence of one who smells of death, no matter the age of it, he quickens his pace and appears at her side. He is massive in comparison to the both of them, a guardian at Kahlua's side, willing to protect and defend at all possible costs. Instead of warm curiosity, he regards the newcomer warily, though he is not one to judge on appearance alone. It is the smell that makes his insides curl, because he knows it so well. They all have scars. Some are just more visible than others. Confutatis would not be judged for the ones he could see upon her.

For a few moments, long and lingering, he is silent. Contemplative. Finally he speaks, the words a deep rumble that work from his chest up through his throat to crack like lightning across the vicinity, naturally demanding in the deep baritone that all others take heed of his lyrics. "Kaj, King of the Edge." Silence falls around once more, an impenetrable veil. Kahlua holds the floor for the moment, the militaristic King tightening his shoulders automatically for the conversation about to follow. For now, he will say nothing. His gaze is not unkind, merely guarded, but Confutatis must understand the importance of his herd's and Kahlua's safety. He would not be so easily convinced, when something so jolting was in place upon her skin. Perhaps if she were to share her story, he would be more accepting. Instead, he lifts a wing to brush in secrecy against Kahlua's flank, eyes flickering to the side. There is no particular message to be shared, but he worries. Worries one day she will wander too far, and he will not be at her heels fast enough to protect her. To remind her of the horrors of the world he tried to take onto his shoulders so she wouldn't have to.

@[Confutatis]