KNEEL TO THE CROWN

aged paws carried the veteran skillfully over empty plain, scarred vessel quivering as tiresome muscles ached. he'd begun a slight limp a mile back, an irate grimace forming slowly over his grayed features. it had been some time since he'd last set foot in alacritis, and he only assumed he'd have some catching up to do. after sending his consigliere to find his dearly beloved heart, he figured what a better way to gather information than to jump right into the game? he was starting to get into a good rhythm; one, two, limp, one, two, limp. he was in midstep when his foot caught something hard.. he fell forward, attempted to correct himself, and fell even harder onto his chest as a result. a horridly enraged grunt escaped his throat as he cursed, "well damn it, abaddon. just fucking trip over everything!" he found himself in a rather awkward position, ass in the air and not-so-limber forelegs jammed beneath him. whiskered chin rolled to the side with a groan from the don, and with an extra effort he managed to get the rest of his cramped body to follow.