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Snippet #2760972

located in Sylvar Forest, a part of Outcasters: Atonement, one of the many universes on RPG.

Sylvar Forest

The vast woodland that surrounds the capital city of Victoriana.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Simon Davenport Character Portrait: Roan Ambers Character Portrait: Antheia Ophiuchus Character Portrait: Zio
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Z I O_&_S I M O N



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"Perhaps our guest should ride on your elk."

The King stopped dead in his tracks.

"The terrain can give more information than the eyes, especially in a forest such as Sylvar."

Turning ever-so-slowly, Simon's thunderous countenance was on full show, narrowed eyes focused only on the soldier. The silence that followed was filled with enough tension to crush any man's spirit.

"You'd have me... loan my mount... to the man who... whose foul creation has been the cause of my mother's suffering?" he asked, a frightening quietness to his voice. Were it not for the silence of the forest, it likely wouldn't have carried well over the distance between them.

It was almost as if that final thread - the one that had barely been holding him together since receiving Roan's hawk - had finally snapped. His self-restraint and tolerance were at an all-time low.

Simon's footsteps carried him forward at an alarming speed, until he was so close to Zio that their noses touched. The older gentleman visibly flinched, but refused to step backwards.

Even Ambers should have known that it was better to stay out of the King's way until he'd gotten the bulk of his anger out. It was a less than civilised display, but he'd simply endured too much.

"He's lucky... that I'VE NOT BROKEN HIS DAMNED LEGS," boomed the King's voice, enraged by the suggestion alone and clearly at his wit's end. The fact that this man possessed useful information to help them save Erieda Davenport had seemingly taken a backseat to Simon's hatred for him; for the man who made his mother's suffering possible. Where he tried to see logic, he only saw his mother - weakened, afraid, and alone. He prayed that she hadn't yet given up.

Simon's fingers curled so deeply into his palms that he lacerated the skin with his nails, and small trails of blood began to drip from his fists. He likely hadn't noticed.

Finally his head snapped in Amber's direction. "Carry your new friend then, if you're so worried," he returned darkly.