the elephant king

His large flaps of ears remain flared out; a silent and instinctual warning of this large, pachyderm from. Though he was finding it harder and harder to hold onto this body—a ripple of his black stripe crossed over his side. No, he needed to retain this form if he was to be able to shield any of the foals from whatever danger this bramble promised.

So, immobilized, the Elephant King renewed his hold on this morphed form. Perhaps foolishly, for it took most of his attention and a great deal of strength; his magma elephantine creation swayed to and fro, trying to charge something as it’s innate magical makeup made it wont to do. Thus, the Elephant remained still and unmoving in the face of the thicket’s criticism and annoyed rebukes.

And he remained silent as it waxed and waned; on and on with its haughty words. For being so verbose, the Elephant King was marginally surprised it had not spoken before this moment. Surely, it seemed to enjoy hearing its own patronizing lilt; though, perhaps that was just a mortal’s interpretation to whatever sensations this nebulous creature projected to the surrounding equids.

Once again feeling both secure and mobile in his elephantine form, his massive tusks swayed through the air as he responded to the former, wicked voice. “You say you have lived in the Edge for ’thousands’ of years, and us ’but seasons’. That does not make our seasons and less meaningful to us. The weight of your years to you does not change the weight of ours to us.” As his deep voice boomed, he had begun to shift, attempting to move his bulk in front of Hera and Erthe.

He mentally sighed as he spoke, these were not soldiers. They were not prepared to withstand whatever this bramble thicket would throw at them; they did not have training for combat, nor did they know formations. A glance around showed him only a handful of the Edge’s warriors present; haphazardly scattered amid the foals, mares, stallions… “You say we have not been invaded for years; but that does not make the danger of invasion any less. Regardless of the lull in enemies crossing our borders, we would still have them be protected rather than open to the whims of ‘kind words’ and politics.”

He fell silent and settled his gaze on the timid, pale deer manifestation of the thicket as it stepped forward and continued to speak. His ears flapped once, the angry Elephant General he had long-since buried slowly rising to the surface of his massive, wrinkled exterior. “Your thorns protect only a small part of our border, and they may trap and cause injury to friend and foe alike. If you could promise protection along our entire boundaries, then perhaps I would call off this quest. But I must protect my herd,” his roar had grown deafening in his steadfast adherence to protecting those who trusted him as King.

But then, after his roar, he faced Elsa’s stinging words, ’What if it was Hawezi—’ “—Do not lecture me about dying children. I have already buried my own,” his solemn, low rumble broke into her words, but his stare burned with intensity; the same navy eyes scorching out of a massive, wrinkled grey face.

And then he face the thicket again, “Those that do not wish to be apart of this, you may leave.” A thundering trumpet ended his words. His enraged magma-elephant was finally released from his grasp as it aimed to charge into the heart of the thorns and explode on impact.

Though some semblance of the kind King showed through (perhaps foolishly), as the the magmaphant did not charge the deer, but rather the thorny vines around it.

Tembovu

No matter how fast or far a man runs
he cannot escape his fate.