Disappointment could not burn those with no expectations. Unmoving eyes saw the conflict within the other, and though he didn’t understand, he accepted what he saw. Perhaps it was a coward that was standing before him. A coward that once had made the brave choice of venturing far and farther from everything he knew. Perhaps he was fleeing from something. There was always a drive that led the soul to move on to brighter horizons, and Itachi thought it likely that Imhotep was one of many that followed simple logic in such a manner. But the Lykoi was not the reaper; he was not a judge of any creature.
Blonde hands disappeared within the wide folds of his black and crimson coat as his hands connected with each other. One step turned into two, and pale eyelids deeply hooded the glorious pools of blood and mystery; so unique in their hues. Had the foreigner spoken lies then? Had he truly wished to become a part of the Thistle Kingdom, he would have remained in his place with his chin held high. Pity. Instead of letting his eyes gaze after the departing creature, Itachi turned to face the lands, patiently waiting for the King or Queen to arrive for no reason.
There was doubt in his mind, for perhaps the other hadn’t spoken truly about himself. But he was gone now, and soon his thoughts would let go of sands and suns and long for a glimpse of silver instead.
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