Rainforest Cliffs
There's another voice - hello Sultan. The familiar word brings an ache to his heart, and he turns to see the source of it. It's a young boy - Volterra recognises him immediately as Ampere's youngling, always a gregarious colt and active amidst the herd. "Iskra," he rumbles. It's good to see that someone remembers him as what he used to be - that someone remembers the good old days, a loyalist in a world full of strangers.
"I'm sorry for your loss." The words are genuine, and it's easy to see the mourning in Volterra's crimson stare. He has not yet given himself time to grieve for all those that he lost, and admittedly Isopia's death has taken presidence over all the others. Ampere's death, though, hurts for an entirely different reason. She was his co-leader, a strong and able woman, and to see her life ended so brutally was....a shock to the grizzled warlord, despite his years of experience. She did not deserve to die like that, and he can only imagine what it's like for her son to have had to see such a thing. There's too many people here for him to be able to check up on his children, so he focuses instead on Kisamoa as the foul heathen speaks again. His ears flatten a tad, muscles tensing with desire to crush, but he forces himself to zone in on Erthe's words instead. He follows wordlessly, nodding a goodbye to Iskra as he does so and casting a final dark glare at the false God that stands before him as he blends away into the shadows. |
Speaks to @Iskra
