Wild Berry Meadow a golden crown

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Rollo is unaccustomed to Arturo's land, and within the few hours he has arrived, he has departed again. It is the feeling of confinement, all too soon but just in the right time. He will get used to it, soon enough, once his alliegeince grows but for now he is on the fennce and on the fence he roams. But his path is cut short as a dark movement halts his path, eyes flickering in warning as he searches, locating the obstacle. Optics settle upon a boy much smaller than him but something, he feels, is not right, There is an air of danger about the other and a red light flashes in the back of his mind. But he cannot pass without crossing the other. So instead, he does what all threatened men do. The brute lets loose a low snarl, a warning. He does not need to ask the other of his intent, it is clear in each step, each seemingly fragile movement that the other is not something to be trifiled with, and yet, neither is Rollo. Something dark met with something dangerous was not a pair worth making should interests lie in self preservation, however, Rollo neither cared for his physical well being as his cerebral affections longed for pain. Perhaps it was the penance his demons demaned, regardless, he had little caution where his assurances in his superiority were definate. Rollo did not look for a fight, but he spectated it's beginings, for two men of power could not exist in such a close proximity without the other's acceptance of submission. He could not cross the other to continue his path without the slightest hint of tension, he knew, and therefore did not shy away. But for now, he waits in close proximity for an indication that the other means no ill will and that he can continue on his way.

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