Word Count » 3+
The ebony youth jumped to the caress of his voice, those gilded silver eyes seeking the King's dark form before recognizing, and showing proper humility. Acidic olive, so prone to entrancing sparks of venom and danger, did not move slitted pupils from the dark outline of the manchild. For it was true - Pandemic, although vastly younger, already outweighed his monarch, and more than matched the King in height, too. It was a discomforting feeling, to be thus dwarfed, but Sirius had long since grown used to such irritable overshadowing when in the presence of the boy's father. Larkspur was a monolithic beast, proportioned like mountains, and just as dependable.
Stepping forward on silent pads, the Thistle King peered curiously at Pandemic turned to rifle through the motley collection of crates. The youth's dark claws found a smallish one, and Sirius watched intently as it was brought to him, ignoring the shadowed object clutched carefully in the male's other ebony hand.
A gentle murmur echoed words he had spoken weeks prior, and for a moment narrowed pupils lifted from the gift to gaze intently at the face of the Midnight boy, soaking him in that volatile mixture of olive and slate. However, it was with silence that the King took the crate. It was made of dried reed-fiber, tightly woven, and stuffed with soft fabric. With tentative ease, the monarch lifted the lid, and squinted intently inside.
It took a moment for his gaze to focus on the small, naked bundle, shivering amongst the nest of rags. The bird was pitifully small, its exposed skin a mottled pink and brown. Disturbed by the sudden light, it began to cheep in an optimistic tone, seeking parents or nourishment. There was no expression on the face of the King as his eyes traveled now to the feather, held out-stretched. Wickedly curved claws daintily took the extravagant plume, holding it up so that the light could catch it. The feather was splendid to look on - A rainbow of deep emeralds and shimmering royal blues, gilded with gold and black lace. A jewel indeed.
Slowly, a smile spread about the face of the man. He understood the purpose of the bird, and the feather, and an undeniable surge of pleasant surprise proved the Boss to be impressed. Tucking the feather inside, the Thistle King gently eased the lid down on the crate. He paused a moment, before moving to clap the youth firmly on his toned bicep. "Excellent. Excellent!" Yellow teeth glittered. "And the other? You have completed your mother's request also?"
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