they aren’t terribly formal like their leader, the other three. fenrir is too brooding to be appropriately responsive in the respectful way a king deserves. ifrit could never wrap his head around dominance that was not regarding neirin. seamus was too open (in that way that means, to those of shadowcraft, one isn’t to be trusted) to be anything but amusing or playful. neirin holds them together like glue and puts forward a finer metaphorical foot than all three of the others combined. What iblis takes it to mean is right on point. protocol is obeyed because the golden brother demands it, because he can command the respect of others just as easily as he commands of them respect for himself.
compliments imparted, six sets of eyes turning to regard the white and tangerine female - especially a pair of shining and vibrant green ones. everlyse. now the queen had the name of her treasure. “ah, she flatters us.” the smaller brown male smirks with a small wag of his tail… and then they turn because the king speaks and even with his limited mass, Iblis had enough presence to spare in that moment.
the offering is a good one, one that would aid in protections for them in the future, “for use of your land, we would gladly keep our eyes and ears for your service-- and we will fight with asteraia in war if it comes ever to battle in return for your own service to fenrir’s father.” he nods, accepting terms and offering him one better. “it will be nice to know when age makes us infirm, we might have a home to finally retire into.”
AND I HOPE THAT YOU REMEMBER ME
the next generation; the sons of the firsts
of scotavia | of solevion | of trenus | of ferrine
the freeman king | the executioner | the changeling | the astromancer
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