It still didn't feel real. Nothing about the last few weeks felt real, as though reality remained only a thin veneer over a world that was still in freefall.

Solomon was dead. He was not.

Regardless of how he felt - guilty, angry, justified - the facts remained the same. Somehow, he had escaped the blame for his father's murder, and while he knew that the axe would forever loom over his head, he needed to accept his good luck for what it was: justice.

This hadn't exactly been how he planned to carry out his revenge, but who was he to argue with the fates? Clearly his own plan of vengeance hadn't been harsh enough.

The chimera moved quietly through the dusky half-dark of evening, his patchwork coat painted shades of plum and obsidian by the fading sunset. His herd remained small, but he didn't particularly mind. Sihtric had at least been going out to procure new members, although his success seemed varied. Hasan, too, seemed to have made some attempts although he had gone mostly quiet of late. It made his suspicious, but he hadn't pressed. Not yet. But if the tobiano didn't start proving himself? Well, there was always Octavius or some other interested party.

His thoughts tonight revolved around the Badlands, having caught the sudden change of leadership in the wake of the battle. Sakir had been his most stalwart support with both the Hills and the Dunes still up in the air. Evrain's counter offer still rankled him, but he hadn't seemed to make any effort in that direction in the days since. Asmodeus had hoped to take the kingship by support, but he if was put into a position where he would need to take it by force? Well.

He'd just have to find a way to do that.

Adult Stallion 16.0HClassic Champagne ChimeraSolomon x Xiomara