Bridges

Gargoyle was soon to be along, surely, after all there was no time for the Valhallan to wait. Glaciem had already solidified an alliance with the Seracians and now all Gargoyle had come to do was make sure that everything was perfectly fine. Collision himself had to actually make the beginning steps, get something in motion, and make sure that what he offered would promise a strong and enduring future for all of the Seracians and all of the Valhallans. Stoic face was all the multi-colored man held onto and he would not waste time with formality as he stood upon the borders of Seracia, pulled his head back, and summoned for them. His golden gaze would fall over their lands and while, to himself, they were not as impressive. They were still thriving with a regality of sorts.

Long, deep, whole would ring through the air and his musculature would remain powerful and solid. He clearly had no reason to come to the borders as a show of force, as he knew not what the numbers of Seracia were and he knew not what their king was like. He was going to test the waters and he was going to make sure that everything he gave was going to have an equal and positive benefit for those under his control. He would simply expect no less of his pack, his pride, his family. O where are you King of Seracia.