shadow and flame

Sirius Revlis · 07-12-2011, 04:30 AM

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Word Count » 3+

Larkspur had become an invaluable asset to the Thistle King. The sight of him filled Sirius with a strange level of calm - It soothed the need within to strive and conquer, for if a man so mighty in size and strength could bow head in submission, then all those who followed would do likewise. A strange, instinctual bond connected the two men since their dangerous encounter with the bear on the mountain - Something physical as much as it was mental. While he was a man of eloquent words and silver tongue, it was a relief to sometimes drop the pretence of permanent civility, and allow himself a taste of the feral air that hung constantly around the D'Angelo man, who had reclined with surprise grace and willingness into his submissive permission.

It occured briefly to the male that his Crone shared a dissimilar view of the wolf. She was fiesty and hot-blooded, but it irritated him to think that she should discount his view of the male in favour of her own. Sirius had claimed Larkspur as a part of The Family, and this was to be enough for all who might have contested. In the land of thorns and mist and wilderness, the word of the Thistle King was law above all.

It was with such arrogance of thought that venomous olive eyes graced the woman. Large, elegant ears tilted to capture the Arbiter's gravelly tones, instantly storing away all information presented. When the woman knelt before him, cradling a bag close to her stomach, his interest flared. Whatever she held she prized greatly, and this was always useful information to the Boss. Her words pleased the vain royal, and he mentally preened his feathers as a peacock might - However, the sinful Cheshire smile that sometimes awarded such efforts was kept hidden, locked away from the burning jack-o-lantern gaze of the Arbiter. "I see," He mused, dark brow-spots rising in interest. The large ebony stallion at his side stretched his lean neck out, flared nostrils seeking those of the handsome mare; Without moving his gaze, the Boss jerked the animal back into line. "What use is she to me?" While his eyes remained on the kneeling woman, secretly admiring the valleys and curves of her sweet ivory form, he adressed the other man first. One cream hand moved down, aiming to fix fingers beneath the woman's lowered chin and delicately tilt her head up towards him, as one might when observing a particularly handsome animal. Olive gaze was appraising, and the smile revealed itself now, sharp and cunning. "What have you to offer King and country, Lark-kin?"

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