06-26-2010, 09:17 PM
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(318.)
After having looked for this man with Harlowe for several hours a few days ago, King was scrutinizing him—trying to find why Harlowe had been so interested in the first place. Sure, King's friend had admitted that it was family things that he had wanted to talk to Larkspur about, but he suspected there was something else. There was something in the scarred man's demeanor that did remind him of his father, and that was something respectable in the eerie blue eyes of the youth. Perhaps it was ironic that he didn't know that Larkspur's intentions with Harlowe were strangely similar to what Haku planned to do with King. Those parallels were invisible to him in the grand scheme of things, but he could tell similarities in separate energies of all the characters involved.
The boy watched Larkspur as he explained how he knew Haku, and King nodded; the explanation was satisfactory for him. "I can understand that," he said in a confident tone. He could feel it in their energies—they were both quiet, not loud like others. But it was quiet in a dangerous way, the way that others would underestimate and then get hurt by. King personally thought that there was a churning chaos beneath the energy of his father, but he did not know or had been around Larkspur long enough to know what lay beneath the silence of his demeanor.
King blinked, looking down to break these thoughts and then looking up to the horse. It was a mighty beast, though it seemed so docile in the handling of the Luperci. He wondered why the tremendous creature—who must weigh several times what Larkspur did—did as the werewolf commanded. So he asked, "Why does it do what you say? And why doesn't it run? You could easily turn on it and attack... and, then again, it could just step on you."