Blackfeather Woods Won't Wake From This Dream

For some reason, Kove had asked a question that sparked a bit of philisophical insight from the dark brute, and with the appreciated question, came the soft spoken answer from the king.

"Then they are are devoured by the land, itself."

The irony of life. Everything was created to be destroyed, and everything that is destroyed is to create. The cycle od life, and death. A beautiful dance shared by all that lay breath upon the cold frosty air of the morn, to the content sigh of sleep at the night.

Turning to the snow coated companion, Slade suddenly asked,

"Will you too, be eaten, by the hungry lands, Kove?"

Slade had no intention of being blunt with the ivory. He was never a blunt being. He had to have his words forever twisted in some sort of poetic rhymn, the feel of an undetected threat or promise within the gilded depths of his lyrics.