having just gotten out of the trance he called confusion, which was put on him when he was cursed to arrive in a place that was not merely fit enough for a king like himself. having the insatiable urge to just scream maurice ! this is your fault ! was almost so severe it was threatening his own health.
having pranced around town, looking at all the new things he could potential rub his booty all over and call his own. the king felt a sense of freedom, as if his youth years were lived through all wrong. in his kingly strides, he accidentally bumps into a stranger, a look of absolute disgust surfacing onto his features, perhaps too exaggerated it became a nuisance. a furry hand coming up to grab at his own shoulder, looking up at ( @lighthecrted ) with utter distrust.
“how dare you bump into the king ! i demand to know who this is, maurice !”
before the realisation hit him, that maurice was not here, his best friend and royal advisor was... eaten... tears began to flow from his kingly eyes. a second later, his eyes widening, clinging onto the other.
“what have you done to maurice, you monster ?!”
