02-16-2025, 05:21 PM
“I don't claim to speak for the Gods, and I hold none of their ears,” he said, his voice low and measured. His approach to the young King was deliberate, the crunch of snow beneath his massive paws announcing his arrival. His pawsteps, each one the size of a bear's, left a stark trail in the pristine white landscape. He approached the young King from behind, a tactful gesture meant to see how the king would respond before continuing. Igor would never interrupt the young king directly if he could help it. A man’s time alone, especially that of a patriarch of any sort and title, was to be treasured and guarded fiercely.
Seeing no immediate dismissal, Igor moved to sit beside Cassian, the crunch of snow and the rustling of fur the only sound that could be heard. His steel-grey eyes, typically devoid of expression, gazed out at the horizon as the sun began its descent, painting the sky with fading hues of soft pinks and pastel blues. He took in the sight without directly facing the young man, relying on his peripheral vision to absorb the scene's beauty and to gauge Cassian's reaction. His expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that betrayed none of his inner thoughts.
“But I think I'm starting to understand what they’ve been silently trying to tell me.” He paused, turning to face Cassian, his posture ramrod straight. “I have lived a long and fruitful life, a life that predates Philos. I led my people from the brink of despair, guiding them toward prosperity.” His words weren't a boast, but rather a carefully constructed framework, allowing Cassian to grasp the context of Igor's qualifications. “I know the burden of ruling,” he continued, turning away once more as his gaze fixed on some distant point, as if he were recalling a forgotten land he once called home. “What other reason could there be for me to die of old age, only to awaken in a land both alien and familiar? Why else would I find myself upon your fiefdom's borders? Why else would I be given a second chance?” He gave a curt sigh that caused a cloud of condensation to form in the cold air. “I was once a Chieftain, yes, but in the end, I am just a man.”
“These questions,” he continued, his voice a low murmur against the wind, “I asked myself over and over, until finally… I understood.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Continuing on this path will only lead you to isolation and ruin.”
Finally, he turned his full attention to the young King. There was a hardness to his tone, a hint of world-weariness that can only come with experience and age, but beneath it, there was a measure of concern. This was the most he had spoken, and the words were carefully chosen, a necessary opening to initiate a conversation about the real matter at hand. His closing statement, ominous as it sounded, was not intended as an attack, but as a provocation, a challenge meant to spur thought. He only hoped the volatile young man would see it as such.
for @Cassian <3
Seeing no immediate dismissal, Igor moved to sit beside Cassian, the crunch of snow and the rustling of fur the only sound that could be heard. His steel-grey eyes, typically devoid of expression, gazed out at the horizon as the sun began its descent, painting the sky with fading hues of soft pinks and pastel blues. He took in the sight without directly facing the young man, relying on his peripheral vision to absorb the scene's beauty and to gauge Cassian's reaction. His expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that betrayed none of his inner thoughts.
“But I think I'm starting to understand what they’ve been silently trying to tell me.” He paused, turning to face Cassian, his posture ramrod straight. “I have lived a long and fruitful life, a life that predates Philos. I led my people from the brink of despair, guiding them toward prosperity.” His words weren't a boast, but rather a carefully constructed framework, allowing Cassian to grasp the context of Igor's qualifications. “I know the burden of ruling,” he continued, turning away once more as his gaze fixed on some distant point, as if he were recalling a forgotten land he once called home. “What other reason could there be for me to die of old age, only to awaken in a land both alien and familiar? Why else would I find myself upon your fiefdom's borders? Why else would I be given a second chance?” He gave a curt sigh that caused a cloud of condensation to form in the cold air. “I was once a Chieftain, yes, but in the end, I am just a man.”
“These questions,” he continued, his voice a low murmur against the wind, “I asked myself over and over, until finally… I understood.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Continuing on this path will only lead you to isolation and ruin.”
Finally, he turned his full attention to the young King. There was a hardness to his tone, a hint of world-weariness that can only come with experience and age, but beneath it, there was a measure of concern. This was the most he had spoken, and the words were carefully chosen, a necessary opening to initiate a conversation about the real matter at hand. His closing statement, ominous as it sounded, was not intended as an attack, but as a provocation, a challenge meant to spur thought. He only hoped the volatile young man would see it as such.
for @Cassian <3
the staff team luvs u
