Volpen cursed quietly under his breath as a servent enter the dinning hall and said,<em>"King Haider of Nydewia and Comapany"</em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;">Why had they come? Were they invited by the Queen or do they I'm here!?</span>Volpen pushed the questions aside and sighed standing up straigh and lowering his scarf so his face was visable.<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;">Time to 'hello' to my dear caring brother. . .</span>Volpen began walking gracefully over the the Nydewian table, the rugged sand people tearing threw their meals like savage beasts. Most likely none of them even considered the fact that it might be poisoned. Surely such ignorence couldn't exists. But the memories of Nydewia's beutiful night skys, how the moon reflected off the lake at night. Such memories seem like ages ago. He slowly snapped back to the real world when one of the Nydewians saw him. Volpen still looked like a Nydewian no matter how much he'd tried to hide that fact. He was well muscled but not huge like the other Nydewians, his skin was permanitly tanned and he had short well groomed studdle, that fact was because of his own personal habbit but none the less he looked very much Nydewian. Some of them accually noticed Volpen as the Exiled Prince.<strong>"Prince Volpen? Is that you?</strong>Volpen looked at one of the servents that adressed him. He uttered a curse before sighing and straightening up. "Yes, it is I. But I am no longer a Prince of Nydewia. . . so, call me Volpen if you don't mind." Volpen's voice was calm and clean, very fluent and silky, an obvious sign of his time in Theiri. He scanned the table looking at the people once again a look of disgust as the Nydewians tore at meat with their mouths and hands.<br/><br/>Volpen noted Haider and P'Tulla first. He examined them a moment a memory of the pain his brother had caused him, and the disgrace. Volpen frowned and removed his arm guard and clawed gaunlet revealing part of his 'Royal Carvings' that Haider had ordered upon him to teach him a leason about following rules and being to soft on people. Volpen placed the armor he removed in it's holder he wore around his belt or speciel occasions. He looked them over once again touching them slightly before exaiming the table once more. He noticed Lorenso talking to someone that was blocked by a large Nydewian. He move so he could get at look at the person. When he saw Olive his heart sank. He had found the beutiful girl he fell in love with when he was younger once again. Her long midnight black hair and plaish gray eyes seemed to hex him. Her beuty overwehlemed Volpen. He turned and took a few steps back looking at Haider again, waiting. . . waiting to see how his brother would react to seeing him again. Volpen couldn't help but remember all the sword sparing they'd done togather. How they'd always end with Haider laughing as Volpen yeilded or was knocked out. Those were accually the good time in Volpen's mind. He felt slightly homesick now, but didn't wish to return. . . ever. His home was Theiri now, and will always be his home. After all he had shed blood for the nation. That's more than he can say about Nydewia. Volpen sighed regaining his focus.