I will. Lay me down.

Hot breath would steam from the man's jowls. That moist breath slithering against his black lips before snaking away into the autumn air. His obsidian bulk would travel silently through the mangroves. His feet making sharp movements upon the familiar grounds, seeking the security of a remembered root, the stability of a patch of dry ground. It was strange that the patterns of the mangroves had come back to him so easily but efficiency was his nature. He had lived no other life. It was the woman of rust that his quick gait sought and a ragged but hushed howl would rumble from his chest in a summons to the crowned woman.



It had been long since he had had a personal conversation with Jupiter. He had once had such devotion for the Sol. He wondered where that emotion had gone. Though the devotion had gone he still felt a longing to see Jupiter and he could not deny that her presence did bring him joy. And his respect for the woman's prestige and power would linger. Even in the face of great anger, a command from the Sol would tame his emotions and he would unflinchingly obey as was seen in the meeting. He was unsure what he would say when she came so he sat upon the damp sod and waited.

"Speech"