TRISTAN
I'll come to thee by the moonlight,
though hell should bar the way
E
ven as he held this man’s amaranthine stare, Tristan could feel the returning call from Merlin. The Wyvern was not far and would be among them soon, but the buckskin willed him to hurry. Dragons were not out of place among Denocte so seeing one would not come as a surprise, but having his companion closer filled the buckskin with a soothing confidence that he otherwise lacked.Again, the saccharine words flowed from plum-sweetened lips. They seemed innocent enough, he supposed; the man’s brows furrowed as though perplexed and troubled, as though guilty for disturbing Tristan’s peace. It seemed genuine, certainly, but the knight was no fool. A pretty face and sweet words could hide an ugly heart and disgusting intentions. One only had to look at the Usurper for that.
Rolling a shoulder, the flesh hidden beneath the comforting weight of his slate-blue mantle, the stud hummed. Despite his misgivings and tendency towards paranoia, he should treat this man with kindness. Tempus have mercy if word got back to Ira in regards to his poor behavior… Yet his words in regards to the enchanted cloak wrapped securely about the knight’s frame gave him pause, an ear flicking forward intently.
“... And where do you hail from, stranger?” Tristan asked, his words measured and slow as he cocked a hind hoof. The streets were wide enough that the other citizens could pass them by with ease, and so he felt little concern of standing in their way. ”’Tis a custom piece.”
Did this man know of his homeland? Did he know of the Usurper? Should he be exercising more caution?
A flash of black scales and broad wings and Merlin appeared over the tops of the nearest shops, gliding over the crowds of passerbyers to join them. The Wyvern landed without preamble upon Tristan’s back, his size larger than that of the Pygmy dragons of Denocte, and as his bulk rested upon the stallion’s spine the sooty buckskin shifted his weight to compensate for it. Sharp claws dug into tawny fur as Merlin’s peering eyes stared hard at the stranger, yet he remained silent and calculating, watching, and he waited. Tristan continued without pause, flawless in his vocal execution.
“... But to answer your question, no. I am no soldier here.” His fealty was not to Denocte, but to something more.
’Someone more,’ Merlin cackled, and Tristan sighed, exasperated.
The apology caught Tristan off guard. Both ears twisted forward and his jaw worked curiously, brows raising, and then he shrugged again. ”I know of a few places. Should you desire quiet, the Market is hardly the right place for that. Come. I’ll show you.” It wouldn’t even be out of the way, as the knight knew of a place nearby that wouldn’t take him from his path home.
Without a further word or even waiting for the smokey-black male to answer, the sooty buckskin pressed on, diving into the crowds with confident, purposeful steps. Merlin watched the stranger the entire time, his piercing stare curious yet cautious.
@Sebastien
