Paladin's sanguine gaze followed the pale one as she halted in her tracks, hair upended by her sudden movement. He watched, unmoving against the trees. Ophelia was more like her father than she even realized - even the subtlety of their interested gaze was the same. The way they stood, so still, serene against the oaken post, as if nothing in this world could perturb the blood of Riekahn. He was a stalwart, a force, broken, bent and aged, but still a mass of powerful existence.
Her build was stockier than his own, and he was graced with his mother's delicate features - even though he had never met Tammenia. Thus her approach was thicker, moving atoms in a swirl around her body, and he waited, listening. Paladin did not recognize her, but he did not expect to. He ahd revisited once, fought with his father, and left again, abandoning his past forever. Still, it always managed to catch up to him, in some way. Like now.
She would figure it out soon enough.
He had been the first to leave Dorngarrow. The first to defy his position as the general of the massive army. Paladin had run, consumed by the gravity of his sins, and his name lived on, whispered reverently by some and spat angrily by others. Phantom recognized him, indeed, but her emotions were withheld. "Yes," he replied simply. The charismatic, earthy tones of his voice were rich and vibrant, even in his old age.
Paladin could tell the red line on her body, and he took a deep breath. "And you are yet another progeny of Reikahn," he said clearly, frowning. "My condolences," the sarcasm dripped from his tongue in a bitter way, angry about his lineage and how everything in his life had failed. He was alone, mate dead, children off killing for material gain, and he had accomplished a net total of nothing.
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