the Rift


hold tight to the edge of the night

Erebos Posts: 474
Aurora Basin General atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.1hh :: Four HP: 75.5 | Buff: DANCE
Orsino :: Plain Kitsune :: Dark Illusions & Enyo :: Common Griffon :: Draining Clutch Heather
#6

The young warrior had always heeded his father’s call. There’d never been temptation to disobey his sire, he knew better than to stir a hornet’s nest, so he relished the thoughts of why they were all being summoned again. Were there more monsters on the horizon (and the notion for destruction? For mayhem? For prowess and prestige?)? Were there allegiances broken and unwinding? Were there more talks of peace and armistice? The last meeting had been a disaster in many ways, foolish, stupid, and childish, everyone jibbing and poking swords over the Sentinels, wolves, and the list seemed to go on, spiraling out of control.
 
What could they all be if they simply…tried? What could they become if they weren’t consumed by petty arguments and trivial games?
 
The query consumed him (as did so many things: hate, vengeance, a persistence in acquiring power), as he and Orsino wandered from the midst of the hot springs, occupying the grounds in his regal, princely form. They went to stand along the knoll, nestled in the crowd, another piece of the puzzle, another fragment of the contorted, rippling mass (of distinction or delusion, he was never quite sure), listening intently as his father spoke of recruiting contests (he instinctively looked for Enna to give her a wink, a silent laugh, an open gesture of humor and devilishness for their latest faults in the Threshold), aurora viewing festivals (oh, the amount of foolishness and ebullience that sentiment seemed to entail), and recent promotions. The youth’s eyes might have widened for a few seconds at the mention of Ashamin’s disappearance – he was one of the last beings Erebos expected to simply meander off. He’d always appeared dedicated to his task, to his rank (and a sliver of him wondered if this would grant him opportunity to fight the ex-Haruspex again, if he even had a chance at unraveling the bear and his deer). His gaze settled on those named, but he didn’t know them well, so he proffered friendly congratulations in the form of a nod and a grin.
 
When Rexanna had finished on the celebration details, the lad’s face lit up (Orsino’s did not – he seemed inclined to be lost amongst the throng), voice brimming on confidence, assurance, and good faith, a devilish luminescence polishing his Cheshire features as he extended his vocals amidst the din. “I can help patrol during the festival.”

 
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Messages In This Thread
hold tight to the edge of the night - by Deimos - 06-30-2016, 07:02 PM
RE: hold tight to the edge of the night - by Erebos - 07-02-2016, 05:30 PM
RE: hold tight to the edge of the night - by Enna - 07-04-2016, 04:43 AM
RE: hold tight to the edge of the night - by Lena - 07-05-2016, 04:16 PM

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