race me! race me!

He was surprised to find that Hana hummed as she thought as well. It was a comforting noise and he imagined she did it just as absent mindedly as he did. He closed his eyes for a moment, and listened to her voice. The gentle sound of her thoughtful hum. When she voiced her question he let his eyes open again, blinking a few times in thought. "I think I would have hated the original Ashen Empire. Dad says he calls himself Warlord because a strong reputation is the first line of defense for those he protects. I think Deathbelles dad would have had a Warlord to conquer and expand what was his." But that hadn't really been what Hana had asked. He sighed and shuffled a little on their platform. Feeling the wind rush through the sensitive outer feathers.

But he didn't feel cold, not with Hana tucked beisde him, and his wings their little barrier against ther world. "Deathbelle is the reason the Armada exists. The reason I was raised on good food, training, and freedom. I suppose I owe her a due. I haven't really thought about" a strong part of him didn't see himself winning this race for heir. Azure wanted it too much, believed it to be his right. Mortis was mostly uncertain. He did not think he could cultivate the fearsome reputation Sirius wished them to. Sometimes he believed he was only here so Azure would work harder, feel more determined if he had an opponent to work against. Mortis just wanted his brothers friendship back. He didn't realize how he had let his wings drop, staring at the entwined branches below him. Like they held the answers to the mysteries of the world.