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04-15-2016, 08:02 PM
Now that doesn’t make much sense at all. I know you’re thinking it. A stallion proud of his stealth left a gumdrop red trail straight to him within an enemy camp. He could have cleaned it, wrapped it, or even a novel idea, not stopped here at all. Yet he hadn’t. Standing here on the cliff, boldly and unapologetically inviting himself in, it would seem he wanted to be found. He wanted to be caught…Now what kind of madman would want that? The dark laughter dies into the night wind as the crunch of snow sounds behind him. Was he really been trying to stay hidden? A wide and most satisfied grin answered that question. Yes of course he wanted to be found. What fun was there in being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be if no one knew you were there? Crowned head, high from its condemnation of the mountains beyond, turns tight back. The red stained gold coat flinching as it was pulled. The rush of aggression against the sentries beyond had been distracted, and the annoying needles of pain were a bit harder to ignore. Still, his ego was big enough to cover it from his face, especially as he saw who it was joining him. Tembovu. The King of World’s Edge. Oh what an honor indeed. The vicious grin tamed itself in sarcasm, restraining itself to a glimmer of a smirk. It was hard to do though. For the first time he had met this mammoth it had been an especially wonderful treat. The day upon the Flats was a bit hot, but some of the best fun the gold could remember. Not that the same could probably be said for the Elephant King about that day. But then, that made it all the better for the gold. The gold’s name cuts through cool night air, and it was answered with a nod. Yes, this was he. It had been that day on the Flats the golden had first dropped the titles and celebratory claims. The Laurelin. The Wolf of the North. It had been such a lovely slew of titles. Yet, standing here, turning to face the mammoth, with his back to the Stronghold of the North, he was glad they did not sully the King’s tongue. He was glad the world was already forgetting he had had such ties and collars. Glad his name would live larger than that. Truly his ego was off the charts this night. “Tembovu. Glad to see that burn healed.” Came the reply, more cordial, but also with my sliding edge than the other’s. The massive ruler did not waste time. The statement though causes the gold to raise a brow. In all his travels he never had received a threat like that. It was a level of complexity which not many he encountered were able to muster. A golden ticket was offered, but to take would mean you didn’t board. To deny would mean you were thrown off board. Perhaps this creature was more than met the eye that day on the salt. Perhaps the golden should have been a bit worried. Maybe he should have taken the hint. And in fact, had it not been offered, it indeed would have been a love card to play. Another strong blast from the north rolls across the sea, bristling the golden’s back. A reminder. Tasseled tail then begins to switch silently back and forth low. “Ah, I’m afraid you wouldn’t want me…” Head tilted, body twisted, and the dull scars, scratched deep in the winter coat, reveal themselves in the moonlight. “…Damaged goods and all.” Perhaps damaged in more ways than one. But he was trying to forget the rosen shadow of the north remember? He straightens, but the move of shifting his weight agitates it all, and red stained knee buckles slightly as he moves. The weakness is ignored by him of course. “Still, I must say, your security is a bit lacking my friend.” The crowned head tilts slightly, feigning sincerity. Your majesty might have gone over a bit better, but the gold was loathe to call many that. That was a bit unfair though, considering the golden hadn’t done exactly an honest job of getting here. So the stab was more a cheat. Still, the Tembovu didn’t know that. Did he know how dangerous a game he played? Did he know there was only three feet behind him to cliff edge? Could he not see just how many hands taller the Elephant King was? Well of course he could. The golden had practically invited the threat to him had he not? But, though his heart pulsed tighter and hotter, it was flooded with the intoxicating adrenaline, ego, and testosterone. And it helped that in his hand, or rather his satchel, he held a trump card. Perhaps ending up here had not been his original intention, but golden was rarely caught unawares. "talk talk talk" OOC:: I'm sorry its so long...my muse has just been running away with me of late. Thranduil
His words are clever and bright
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@Tembovu
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