#please think less

[milkcartondoodle]

Duke keeps dropping crazy shit I can't take it

Like !?

Dude

[curiositydies]

❛ I do not worry about what will happen. Only what needs to be done. ❜

In contrast to many notable people on Azeroth, he is older, more experienced. In the Shadowlands, however, he feels practically young and untested again. Even the youngest of the established houses in Maldraxxus is centuries older than he had time to be; that feeling only intensifies for those keepers of the dead in other parts of the underworld, the very first of their kind.

It’s not the most pleasant realisation, but neither is being in the land of the dead, the place he swore he would never claim him for its own. Yet here he is, regardless.

(Revendreth is red blood and raw hunger, waiting to wring pride from the souls of the dead. The pulse of voracious appetite thrums through the land itself, an uncomfortably and ironically mortal feeling that sets itself at odds with the bright and bitter and dispassionate frost that his soul is irreversibly entwined with. Denathrius feels like that desire, that hunger, embodied. Merely to be in the same room as him has always made him feel uncomfortably mortal, defensive in a way that goes soul-deep.

He wonders if Denathrius can sense it. He wonders, also, if that discomfort is amusing to the sire of the venthyr. It probably is.)

“How very like an immortal arbiter,” he replies, his voice dry and, despite himself, tinged with the slightest hint of amusement. “But then again, you have all the time in the world to plan out what needs to be done.”

He tilts his head, his expression briefly inscrutable. “You are fortunate indeed to have that kind of confidence, your majesty.”

He can’t imagine not worrying. Worrying is more or less his entire job; worrying for the future and the present, turning those worries into plans and contingencies. But for someone so old, so established, perhaps it’s a different matter altogether.