POISON AND WINE

he hadn?t moved a muscle since she had taken a turn to the forest. her smell was uncell what she was and who she was and immediately he grew curiouser and his memories came back. Had he failed her? No, not essentially. He had given her the kingdom he was void of interest in and she was still running it. In essence he had a legacy, and yet; he knew she stood alone. not in terms of a man or a wife, but in terms of domain. Even if she held a hierarchical ally none would ally alongside with her. Her power was undisputable and hers. She wouldn?t trade it to anyone. He missed her though.

Eventually she came into his view. She was more so remarkable than last he had seen her. She had seen more in the time they were apart. There were fresh scars binding themselves to her flesh and a curt smirk of approval rose on his face. She wasn?t one to lie down and take a beating--she had earned that mark. Much as he had earned his own. his body would tense and freeze as he heard the wind carry around his name. his ears reacted alone twisting and turning and for a long moment he dared to debate going to her...but she was waiting? What would she think of him or say to him? At least now he could make a grasp at the truth and quench his curious mind.

the russet sovereign rose from where he were seated and approached her. Quivering muscle was firmly pressed against every bit of his body. He had gained weight. His eyes were duller. He had grown bored. Above all, his flesh was now rigored with burns and scars and lacerations that had not always existed against him. It was new and it was grotesque. Yet, with the sire the disgust could not have been more appropriate. Handsome did not suit him well. His attraction was his repulsion and in his repulsion he found his vigour. A cracked smile rose to the surface as he greeted her with silence and distance. What had she come here for? She was missing something. tell me everything.