(no subject)

[ The roads to the Edge of the World are terrifying in their own right. The paths are narrow and winding, nearly nauseating for those who are prone to illness in motion - the trip to get Kyr down south, carrying Idris' child, was a long one, with extended pauses in inns along the way to allow him to stop and rest. ]

Are you ready?

[ His head turns, all coy little dimpled grin and narrowed eyes, scheming and impish. Their cart, luxurious and warm, is pulled by a team of wooly oxen, plowing forward on small hooves into territory they know well, and Kyr stands without as much as a wobble, bracing himself on his father's walking stick - habit, with its sculpted handle, normally used to pluck himself through ice and snow and rock. ]

We're almost there.

[ His hair is braided in fine strands, woven in an expectation of royalty, and his narrow shoulders are draped in wool and hide and furs. He reaches for a trunk, flipping the latch. ] I have a gift for you. [ Kyr draws out a set for Idris - they match his own, in color and texture, wolves' furs across the shoulders and long woolen cape, silver clasps. ] They'll keep you warm. And this...

[ He draws out a second walking stick, with its sharp point - his own's handle is carved into the head of a doe. Idris' is a stag. ] Was also made for you.

(no subject)

[ The worst news to reach the kingdom in a while was of the collapse. It was an important trade route, and without it they were nearly blockaded from the very things that kept them alive - so, within hours, they were moving swiftly to the war room, maps laid out on tables with scattered figures, compass and markers.

Bao sat at the head of the table, looking remarkably unwell; he was penning a note with a bottle of black ink, though he'd been laying low lately and no-one had seen him in quite a while. He was pale, shaven head slick with sweat, and occasionally he'd reach up and dab his temple with a soft cloth, elbows resting on the table in front of him. It hid him from the chest down, an intentional choice, as he'd had diplomatic business to conduct previous and it was a matter of decorum.

To his right, murmuring in their native language, a tall, weedy omega stood with both palms on the table, studying the topography of the land - his hair was greying, left loose and so long it pooled at his feet, and he nodded and stepped back in deference when the door opened.

Mal had Pallo's arm, and Dhani Umber's, fingers linked in at his elbow. ]

Go ahead, Aahan. We've discussed this. [ No need to defer to him. He never requested it. The older man stepped forward again. Bao lifted his hand away from his parchment and clutched the pen so tightly his fingers turned white, silent, and then finally spoke up without lifting his eyes. ]

I regret that we're meeting again on such terms, and please accept my condolences for what's occurred. Aahan is attempting to plot a secondary trade route, as far as I understand it. We'll lend as many men as we can to help clear the tunnel, but the kingdom is large and securing them is not an expedient process, as I'm sure you can imagine.