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       #Post#: 16979--------------------------------------------------
       Our Whispers of Promise
       By: Forte Date: September 3, 2014, 6:51 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       From the overbearing whirlwinds surrounding the unanimated Aria
       Kingdom...
       The young dragon Prince had detached himself from the balcony
       and floated down, landing kneeling down and far from stumbling
       about unlike weeks... perhaps months ago.
       He wasn't sure.
       Piu Forte was not sure when and how he had returned to his once
       beautiful and prosperous kingdom.
       [sup]...Promise...[/sup]
       It mattered not.
       The rather urbanized kingdom where he met nothing but challenges
       seemed too much trouble anyways.
       He had to recover...
       Recovery...
       [sup]Promise... You promised her...[/sup]
       And at least see if he could appeal to his God of Order.
       Pray for forgiveness at least.
       Recollections, rash decisions and the like seemed to allow for a
       seemingly clear mind.
       ...Yet.
       [sup]You have a Promise you couldn't keep...[/sup]
       Forte walked forward, adjusting his familiar, light, yet durable
       and more prince-like attire.
       It almost felt welcoming not to have be in his training
       fatigues.
       He adjusted the half plated armor about his chest, neck and
       collarbone.
       Held by a tough strip of leather, the ever proud three clawed
       symbol of Pathros was upon his body.
       Under that dull gold-seeming chest armor was a sleeveless half
       robe buttoned down and tied together with a deep ruby sash.
       Under that was a light fitting... rather off white
       Arabian-looking pants that stopped at his ankle.
       As usual traditional black bands of a soldier were on his arms,
       fresh wraps around what seemed like heavy dull gold gauntlets,
       as through the wrapping and his gauntlets, talon-like black
       nails.
       He took one step. the small half cloak he wore attached to the
       armor billowing against warm and arid desert winds.
       [sup]..Promise...[/sup]
       He adjusted his most trusted companion, his Jambiya from the
       cord that held it together from under the sash.
       A small pouch of supplies, the Oud he bought wrapped around his
       tail.
       After managing such little words...
       CRYPTIC WORDS at that from the God of Order, he knew his time
       about Pathros is fleeting.
       Lingering about such pained 'Statues' would not save his Home...
       Save his world.
       His family...
       His wings opened, stretching fully, each giving a strong flap as
       he lifted the hood of the half cloak over his head, another
       scarf around his maw to protect from dust...
       He took off, after begging forgiveness, and asking for patience
       from the petrified statues of his Mother, Father and Sister.
       ....
       .......
       ...[sub]Promise.[/sub]
       ...Protection....
       [sup]No harm to ever come towards her.[/sup]
       ..You Promised!!
       It took him... well days... He wasn't sure, never one to keep
       track of time as he finally returned to where His mind could try
       and be at ease.
       Near the same shop as the first day he stumbled upon this
       hamlet.
       "Nay... it has not been as long as I assumed. How foolhardy of
       me." He growled out, looking around.
       His mind wondered to see if his rather cannibalistic friend of
       the Snow-Claws was doing much better...
       But he had to settle matters of other importance first.
       Something an aching resolve... and perhaps heart yearned for a
       conclusion.
       His feet automatically knowing exactly where the palace walls of
       the Redbella clan.
       For moments he couldn't swallow.
       He shook his head, and gave out almost a bit of a war cry
       towards the gates.
       "I am the exiled one! I demand to seek an audience with your
       Ruler!"
       His hand kept onto the Hilt of his Jambiya.
       He was more than sure he would be thrown towards the dungeons.
       Keh!
       That mattered not!
       If she cannot hear him then he will continue on.
       His heart would have to deal with the pain of a broken promise.!
       #Post#: 16988--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Our Whispers of Promise
       By: Forte Date: September 3, 2014, 7:37 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       He maintained a strong posture as he growled dangerously at the
       guards, repeating his business once more, just as strong in tone
       in his request.
       ...The request turning more and more into an agitated demand as
       he blinked, hearing her voice.
       His gaze, then body turned towards that window.
       "Serenade...?" he questioned, then realized that he had his tail
       in a death-grip with the neck of the Oud he carried about him.
       ...That wasn't at all what he intended to do.
       Far from it in fact.
       But it was always best to humor her demands.
       ...Even stranger as to why she seemed so... pleased to see him?
       His tail gave him his stringed instrument; examining it for a
       moment as he had it returned in no time flat.
       With a bit of a snort of brimstone he figured this might be the
       best time to show why his kingdom was known as the Aria Kingdom.
       With a few plucks... his playing became cautious at first, as he
       became focused on the instrument, allowing at least his melody
       to become more... heated for better terms for a dragon.
       The melody was gaining in strength and in a sense passion.
       Harboring emotions always seemed to flow from the strings he
       plucked with such empathy.
       #Post#: 17003--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Our Whispers of Promise
       By: Forte Date: September 3, 2014, 8:17 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       As he finished playing, or at least heard her to tell the guard
       to let him through. He... for moments was a bit confused.
       Relieved but confused.
       He walked forward, already knowing quite well where her bed
       chambers where.
       He opened the door, as he greeted her with his right hand into a
       fist, under the emblem of his kingdom as he bowed.
       "...Milady." he began. A growl surprisingly ever cautious,
       "Gratitude for your allowance to seek audience with you."
       The Out was back to being wrapped around his tail, towards his
       back as he slowly stood upright.
       #Post#: 17014--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Our Whispers of Promise
       By: Forte Date: September 3, 2014, 9:44 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       The was a low hum-like growl as he was cleaned up, probably not
       noticing  how he looked after he got past the desert sands.
       However Forte watched her all the same.
       He listened "I cannot help but question how I do such a thing,
       Milady..." he muttered, "Are my boorish tactics really something
       that warranted the banishment... or was it truly because I
       humored a goddess and my culture fell on deaf ears...?"
       He continued to have that low cautious grumble of a growl, "To
       council with the Gods... though I was told it was for naught
       since that curse... that is exactly what I urged myself to do
       while in such a weakened state."
       #Post#: 17024--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Our Whispers of Promise
       By: Forte Date: September 3, 2014, 2:11 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Forte sat next to her as she motioned, his tail moving the Oud
       back into his hands as he heard her reasoning.
       However he held his usual bout of a frown, having to be so close
       and to look into her eyes as he breathed deeply, "Yes Milady,
       Such a reasoning makes more than enough sense."
       Such a movement allowed him to break that full gaze to gain
       composure. Though embarrassment about meeting her gaze seemed to
       perplex him for a spell.
       He did look back at her, as he plucked idly from the Oud,
       "Though as I have stated... My king has been conditioned to
       respect the Gods. I was doing what I was raised to do."
       There was a hard 'TWANG' as he realized he snapped a string yet
       again.
       He growled sullenly, as he actually let out a sigh.
       "That Goddess.... her Followers... those under that billowing
       Cur of a Hyena..." He glanced back at her, "Had I attacked her
       for the Hyena's folly... well I would've killed more than enough
       of my brethren, Milady." He touched the sash that held together
       his robe-like shirt, exactly where he had that large scar.
       "Had I attacked the beshrewed Goddess than their fates would've
       been the same for anyone of Canine or Hedgehog... or if my mind
       recollects... a Lynx. I am afraid I cannot carry that burden on
       me as well. I cannot bare to see such horrors inflicted on my
       own people yet...."
       He began to pull out the broken string, "I have a Promise to you
       I will take to my death. Yet I have the weight of my Kingdom as
       well. I must save them... If being banished has you protected
       then so be it. I am not a Solider of Foreswear..."
       He shook his head, a quick glance to her then back to unraveling
       the string. "... Oft I was reminded that I could not leave this
       Kingdom... Injuries or not. Until you tell me otherwise, My
       promise to protect you from anything will follow me until I am
       slain. With knowing that Warrant... Does this show meaning to my
       Plea? To know that I am willing to help your Burden, as I try
       and find a way to ease my own Kingdom's?"
       #Post#: 17054--------------------------------------------------
       Re: Our Whispers of Promise
       By: Forte Date: September 4, 2014, 9:42 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       He grunted as he was pushed onto the bed, thoroughly surprised,
       as his wings adjusted under him.
       "NNnngh...milady??"
       She was posing over him as if he was prey.
       ...Wait.
       Make Love...?
       A strong crawl of crimson was over his tanned muzzle.
       She didn't really mean... to Mate did she?!
       ...That's what she was asking right??
       He swallowed hard, as he had a nervous scowl across his face.
       The other Soldiers in his battalion spoke so much about what
       they have done. Bragged even.
       So all he recalls are from that.
       He looked up towards her, "I... erm..."
       "A...as Her Majesty Wishes."
       He swallowed again, not quite knowing how to tell her he
       wouldn't know what he was doing.
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