The king's foul mood lingered over him like the bruised clouds of a storm. He felt fettered by recent whispers brought to his large, coyote ears - There was dissent bubbling and brooding beyond their borders, and the movement of more loners suggested the congealing of another pack to the North, near the unknown grounds on the other side of Halcyon. Political troubles stressed him; It had been some time since Salsola had been troubled by the approach of a neighbor. Inferni had kept its respectable distance, as had the Salsolans from its border of skulls. But this newness meant that they would be surrounded - A very uncomfortable feeling for the sly thistle monarch.
As always, his stress headaches came and went. One pounded lightly behind his eyes now, as the tall, dark man paced the gloom of his chamber. More items had been added to its reserve; A thickening of the pile of pelts that made his bed, for extra warmth during the cold nights, assorted luxuries from a trip to the Freetown ports, along with an odd assortment of parchment and scribbles that he had been making recently. It had been a year since he had last put pen to paper, and for a while the Revlis man thought such skill evaded him; But as with all civil things, it had come back at last, and he had been able to write his thoughts in ink onto the stained paper sheets. Some were words, some pictures - Any way to ease the load of his genius mind, that mechanism which never seemed to stop. Perhaps that would ease his migraines.
He had just taken off his thick bearhide coat and flung it over the impressive stone throne at the central rear of the room when her voice pervaded the relative silence. The king hesitated, poised in the action of sitting down, before he slumped fully into the throne. Isabella. Her tone brought back memories of their meeting at the border; That had been the last time the pair had truly interacted. He wondered absently what had brought her, but thought that perhaps he deserved a pretty distractions from the painful musings of his mind, and so replied. "Come in," Came the smooth tenor tones, husky where his voice portrayed his foul mood. Glittering eyes rose expectantly to the doorway, and saw her there, the lower half of her sumptuous form dressed in the thick red cloth of her skirt, and her rich upper curves baring the gift he had given her last. Narrowed pupils rested there a moment, on the glittering ruby at her breast, before lifting slowly. Her scent had come with her - A rich smell of luxurious lavender that he instantly associated with the woman. Arousal instinctively curled within his belly, but feeling surly and still somewhat in pain from his headache, the king merely glared at her with narrow eyes. "What troubles you, Isabella, that you think it necessary to disturb me?" His tone was presumptuous, but no doubt she had dealt with arrogant men before, and knew how to sooth their ruffles.
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