Popsicle stand

She would come, a warm look upon her face he did not expect, unless… had the woman forgotten the ruckus he had raised at the last meeting they had both attended? He had stood beside his half-brother, son of Sendoa and nearly lost an eye for it.  There Roman had stood firmly on the opposite side, taking her place beside their father as if that made her special, as if it made her anything less than another spineless lackey who was too afraid of their father to realize what he really was… a coward in his own right.

Still as she approached Kyung would keep his expression even, no crack upon the blank façade he wore. Looking at her was hard, she too closely embodied their father in appearance and he wanted to be rid of the albino’s image more than he wanted anything else. She spoke, an observation and yet he snorted.

“All things considered probably for the best. I was the one trying to goad dear ol’ daddy into attacking me last meeting. From your own actions I’m willing to assume we’d not see eye to eye.” He paused, his voice and expression growing sad. Black gaze flicking away to gaze over the border as if searching for something out there… as if hoping someone, anyone was out there. “That’s something I’ve gotten used to…”