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01-11-2016, 02:14 AM
“You have the Basin’s allegiance.” There was something chilling about those words— perhaps it was the feral blaze in the Reaper’s eyes or the chill that gathered around his black muzzle as he said them. Regardless, the alliance was finalized, was real. A duty performed, a good deed for the Edge. He nodded his great head, thick horn slicing through the misty air. Eyes looked for Elsa’s, briefly wondering what was beneath the perky and friendly words. Never had he heard such cheery liveliness from her, though he shoved his suspicion aside. Had he not also been uneasy and suspicious of the Basin?
Ah, the Basin did have an enemy— or more of an annoyance, it seemed. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest at Deimos’s description of the pegasus in question. “We’ll keep an eye out for him, then,” his reverberating words were colored with amusement before answering the Basin’s Lord’s question, “And no, the Edge has none as of yet.” He studied the dark face, eyes glancing up the extended length of Deimos’s horn, coming to rest at its blue tip. “Though we will be sure to send word if that changes,” he nearly shivered at the perceived eagerness with which Deimos had asked the question. And he nearly felt remiss for not being able to offer a target for that impressively sharp horn.
And then the Elephant received a two-fold answer to his question. Weavers. They must create cloth of some kind in the Basin. And greenhouse in the Basin? He supposed that the cold mountains’ earth were not hospitable to herbs (though this was an assumption, as he had never actually been to the Basin). Hadn’t he seen the grown-over glass remains of something that resembled a greenhouse in the Edge…? He shoved the thoughts aside, once again opening his mouth to answer his brother in reign, “I can agree to that. Your Weavers and our Glaziers should meet and discuss their needs,” he nodded his head in both agreement and closure of their meeting. “I believe we’ve finished our business,” he said the statement as part question, leaving room for others to interject anything more. “The pleasure was ours, Deimos. Safe travels back to the Basin,” he wasn’t sure that the Lead needed or wanted ‘safe’ travels, but the Elephant King was accustomed to turning the phrase.
Ah, the Basin did have an enemy— or more of an annoyance, it seemed. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest at Deimos’s description of the pegasus in question. “We’ll keep an eye out for him, then,” his reverberating words were colored with amusement before answering the Basin’s Lord’s question, “And no, the Edge has none as of yet.” He studied the dark face, eyes glancing up the extended length of Deimos’s horn, coming to rest at its blue tip. “Though we will be sure to send word if that changes,” he nearly shivered at the perceived eagerness with which Deimos had asked the question. And he nearly felt remiss for not being able to offer a target for that impressively sharp horn.
And then the Elephant received a two-fold answer to his question. Weavers. They must create cloth of some kind in the Basin. And greenhouse in the Basin? He supposed that the cold mountains’ earth were not hospitable to herbs (though this was an assumption, as he had never actually been to the Basin). Hadn’t he seen the grown-over glass remains of something that resembled a greenhouse in the Edge…? He shoved the thoughts aside, once again opening his mouth to answer his brother in reign, “I can agree to that. Your Weavers and our Glaziers should meet and discuss their needs,” he nodded his head in both agreement and closure of their meeting. “I believe we’ve finished our business,” he said the statement as part question, leaving room for others to interject anything more. “The pleasure was ours, Deimos. Safe travels back to the Basin,” he wasn’t sure that the Lead needed or wanted ‘safe’ travels, but the Elephant King was accustomed to turning the phrase.
Tembovu
The Elephant King
@Elsa
Please tag Tembovu.
