ooc: Last Post! Fade to black...? C:
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
The new ditty made little sense to Slay; not only were there numerous mentions of human concepts he was unfamiliar with, such as ploughing and threshing corn, but it was interspersed with cheerful contradictions and gibberish. Quite ridiculous, really, and yet... It seemed to fit Cercelee so comfortably, as she came to life with the chorus.
"Mm, nice segway, m'dear, with the whole royalty thing..." he mumbled, noticeably drowsy this time. She did have a nice voice - perhaps not as loud or clear as someone as well-versed as Mew, but the unfettered enthusiasm reminded him of a chirping bird, or even an ambitious cricket. The private thought made him chortle, as he let himself sink into a reclining position. "Crickelee?" he tried aloud, smiling lopsidedly to himself. The sound of his own voice, though, thick with the onset of sleep, snapped him back into wakefulness.
"Brava, sweet nightingale! I like that tune - let us call our friends to work, whilst we relax and watch. I suppose you are our Queen, in a way; but I merely have the countenance of royalty, and none of the bearing. Well, if we're counting alphas, then I suppose I have the bloodline too, but my devilishly handsome appearance is mine and mine alone, and nothing hereditary. You're welcome to call me 'your Highness', though, if it pleases you. Milady."
Slay always did enjoy playing royalty. He was feeling the familiar fuzziness around his normally sharp mind, though -- her soft, sweet voice had indeed begun to lull him to sleep, and it was with a great weariness that he dragged himself back from the realm of dreamless slumber. Should he hide it from her, or play it up? It mattered not. It was all a game. He found himself hoping she would pull one more melody from her past, but he knew that would also be the final nail in the coffin for his consciousness...
Nope, it was too late for even that. With a last bleary smile, the big male let his chin sink onto his wide paws, curling his tail about his haunches. Narcolepsy usually hit him rather abruptly -- this was an honest-to-goodness nap, something he hadn't had the pleasure of in some months. If Cercelee noticed the difference, it could either be insulting - she had really put him to sleep! - or flattering, since her friend had such trouble feeling comfortable around others. Maybe he would even dream this time...
