Little King

S-omeone New

Sol spends his hour clearing out his tent. He gives the weapons that he won't be taking with him to Sonya, the leading commander Daz had chosen. After making sure no remnants of him remained, he then briefed Sonya on the responsibilities she was to take up.

Sitting on a makeshift chair in his near empty tent, Sol begins, "It seems Daz has a lot of trust for you. I don't know you nearly as well, so I just want to make sure you understand what's to happen when we leave this camp." The woman nods her head, clasping her hands together.

Sol knows that she is strong in body. She is fast and decisive with her decisions, but are those decisions always the right ones? That's something he will just have to wait to find out. "You need to continue pushing forward. You don't stop at any land that isn't scorched, and you take no stragglers or prisoners. Do you understand me?"

He gets the feeling that Sonya wants to argue about the last demand, but still she nods her head gruffly, her hooded eyes never leaving his own. "Remember, we're just out looking for their nests. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary, and at the first sign of trouble, you have someone call me." Her golden eyes darken, and Sol knows that he has to make something absolutely clear.

He leans forward, his hand going to wrap around the neck of the woman sitting opposite of him. Sol brings their foreheads together. "Sonya, the time to be a hero will come. But it is not today, tomorrow, or the day after. Remember that you are leading these people. Your people. I need you to make sure it isn't into the depths of hell."

The woman's hand shoots out to wrap around the back of his own neck. Her eyes closed only briefly. "We lead them to salvation," she declares, the side of her mouth lifting to reveal jagged and sharp teeth.

Sol returns her smile. "To salvation," He repeats.

"Why couldn't I use the black one?" Sol begins to wonder how long he'll be able to tolerate Daz's whining. If it's not over one thing, it will be over another. Maybe his feet will start to hurt, or the wind is blowing his hair into his eyes, or maybe it's just too hot.

Gods. As much as he loves his friend, Sol can barely stop himself from punching him whenever they spend an exorbitant amount of time together. "Daz, I've said this once, and I'll say it again. I'm not above hurting you to maintain the peace and quiet I've become accustomed to." Sol hikes the black bag higher up his back, refusing to look at Daz's annoying face.

The man huffs. "Well, how much farther are we?"

With a roll of his eyes, Sol points out ahead of him. "You mean to tell me, you don't see that house with at least fifteen armed guards patrolling outside of it?" They had been walking for a little over an hour. There are much quicker ways of transportation in these lands, but considering the current climate, Sol thinks it's best to stick to traveling in the mortal realm.

The air in the Neverlands is thick with tension, and Sol fears that disturbing the land will result in nothing good. Long distance travel is also impossible in these realms. Daz shades his eyes. "Well... I suppose my eyesight isn't as sharp as it used to be." Again, Sol's eyes roll.

The pair continue until they reach the sprawling stone fence. The two are immediately sighted by the patrol, but they must look inconspicuous, because no one approaches them. When Sol reaches the gate, he pulls a key-card out of his wallet, and swipes it along the digital lock. The gate gives a solid click, then hums lightly as it slides open.

The patrol watches them carefully. "Damn... the tension is pretty thick isn't it?" Daz comments as the two walk past a guardsman. Unfortunately, their most recent expedition led Sol's war-party into Mammalian territory. The people here are a little more on edge than any of the other kingdoms, only because they are the most vulnerable to the Neverworld's latest foe.