In an unusual form for Ira he had not sought to insult Sitri any further than calling him an ‘ungodly’ sight. For a second, the Princeling reflected up the lack of the urge to be rude to Sitri. It was a rare thing for Ira not to feel because in any sort of normal circumstances he was always crude and insolent and insulting. Half the time it was so instinctual that Ira was not even, consciously, aware that he was doing it; and if he was it was purely intentional. There was something decidedly off putting about a creature who insulted himself &mdash which Sitri had done — and had more or less sucked all the fun out of it by agreeing with Ira on the matter. It was fun to the insolent Prince if only because insults tended to get rises out of others with surprising ease. The sound of Sitri’s chuckle brought Ira out of his thoughts and the Juvenile’s silver eyes narrowed to near slits (if he was a cat they would have been but alas he did not share in that genetic quirk with felines) assuming that Sitri was laughing at Ira’s failure. A low rumble of warning, despite that by all accounts Sitri was of a much higher rank than Ira who had not even cleared it into the adult ranks yet, bubbled into Ira’s chest. It cut off quickly when Sitri spoke …something of a compliment, Ira supposed.
Sitri began to explain though Ira struggled to make much sense of the other male’s words. Of course, he had no idea who “the first queen” was and that left him with a gaping hole of information. The more Sitri spoke, however, the more Ira could piece together something of a vague puzzle of what had happened to Sitri.