🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder (grima) ~childxffell
NONVERBAL RP STARTERS
🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee
One by one, the Risen filed into the ruined throne room that the dragon was currently occupying. The Brand of the Exalt on the throne had long since been clawed into illegibility, as it had everywhere else it was once present in the room, and now it belonged to the fallen God. The undead soldiers and mummified corpses brought in the members of a rebel force, one unrelated to the children who were trying to find a way to defeat him. They were all to be executed, made an example of before the last one died, and the rebellion was snuffed out like a candle.His child, one he had born before letting that fool prince die-he knew Chrom would be useful for something in the end-sat in a makeshift throne by his side. They would take up the mantle of Fell Dragon eventually, and he had to induct them into that role if it were to go smoothly. So Grima brought them to witness this execution, hoping they would get the idea that all rebellion must be stomped out. And yet…it seemed the execution had been set too early in the day, he considered as the dark mage’s head fell onto his shoulder, they eyes shut in sleep. A low growl rumbled in the dragon’s chest, and he raised a hand to make the Risen pause in their killing.
“Put the rest of them into the cells for later. Let them wait for their own executions with the deaths of their fellow soldiers fresh in their minds.” Grima commands, and the undead file back out, dragging the humans with them as many of them sobbed uncontrollably. Pitiful worms that perhaps he would let rot in the dungeons. The fell dragon let out a low, long sign, resting his own head on a fist and trying to stay very still; this was the first time Pandora had done something like this, for they always tried to act so detached, but it seemed some of their other father’s humanity seeped into the child. He honestly had no idea what to do but just…sit there.
