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Tembovu the Elephant King
Perhaps the Elephant King should have expected some kind of challenge in response to his own, sudden rigidity at seeing the man’s eyes. But, alas, the giant is still surprised by the clatter of bones and even, daring words that spewed out of the striped one’s mouth. Onyx brows raise once again, though subtle lines crease the skin around his navy eyes in subtle, uncertain censure of the hyena’s voice. But his attention swings to woman of sealskin as she answers his question. Her own words are simple, reserved, and disinterested. She does not even offer her name—and neither has the Dorobian, the King realizes.So, with a soft shake of his head to rid himself of any lingering uneasiness, a lopsided grin replaces the shadows of a frown that clung to his ivory, black-masked face. “I would offer any Doroboian who denounced the Makutano a home in my herd. Provided that they give me their name,” his tone was open and genuine, even as he gently prodded the other for manners and introductions. But there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his words; a promise that any who had supported the tyrants of Dorobo would meet the sharp and colossal monstrosity of his horn.
“As for spirits, I think you’ll find that Helovia has far more powerful forces that work through it’s soil and inhabitants. Magic still lives here, much of it,” his voice grew warmly amused as Mbwene, who had tottered behind him investigating the different flora of the Threshold, suddenly burst out from the trees. Not to be superseded by magic, the small elephant trumpeted a greeting to both seal-skinned and striped equines. Though, naturally, she was drawn to the one of the plains, echoes of instinct luring her towards the one of odd-eyes.
“Companions, as well, exist here. This is Mbwene,” his great horn dipped towards his elephant, just as her ears flapped and trunk raised up in greeting.
@Imani
Please tag Tembovu.
