ＷＨＯ: @faetbound
asril didn't like the feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, an altogether unpleasant one. he hate the not knowing, not understanding what the high king's goal was in having gathered so many he knew for a fact were his enemies. and what was the purpose of bringing them to the same place those who loyal, unreservedly severed him? to make an example of them perhaps? no, that'd be far too bloody, he though to himself, imagining the high lord displeasure at what would become blood soaked tapestries and artwork. it was nearly enough to bring a small smile to his lips.
❝ here, ❞ he said to his brother, holding his untouched cup out to him. ❝ at least one of us should keep their head about them. ❞ asril grinned a little, wanting to be sure he didn't infringe upon his brother's fun. the only person's fun he would never actively seek to spoil.
