[The touch, though familiar, is one that Eridanus can never quite get used to. Months, years, millennia down the line—and he would still feel his pulse quicken with that shackle of a hand around his throat. He would feel his heart thunder against his ribcage at a war-drum's rhythm for that simple, undaunting touch. He swallows against it, the bobbing apple of his throat pressed against an aureate claw-tip that pricks his senses and perks his ears like an attentive dog's—and at once, he is kept there, patient, waiting for his master's order like the trained beast he's become.]
I apologize to have kept you waiting then, [Eridanus murmurs as his hand idly reaches, touching where that shackle once sat around the muscular column of his neck as if already missing the sensation. Regardless of if it's reflexive or pensive, he turns his own gaze back towards that portal.]
I shall enter first, then.
[The announcement is given with a respectful bow of his head, this act more measured than his last. If this portal really isn't safe then, it would be better to test his body before his Eternal's. So he strides wordlessly towards the construct of metal, wire, and magic with decided purpose, each step so sure in itself that it could almost be claimed as arrogance. When he passes through the portal, it a sparks and fizzes—showering light and rippling the surface of it like the iridescent sheen of an oil spill. It consumes his stalwart figure, leaving not a trace left to be seen.]
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I apologize to have kept you waiting then, [Eridanus murmurs as his hand idly reaches, touching where that shackle once sat around the muscular column of his neck as if already missing the sensation. Regardless of if it's reflexive or pensive, he turns his own gaze back towards that portal.]
I shall enter first, then.
[The announcement is given with a respectful bow of his head, this act more measured than his last. If this portal really isn't safe then, it would be better to test his body before his Eternal's. So he strides wordlessly towards the construct of metal, wire, and magic with decided purpose, each step so sure in itself that it could almost be claimed as arrogance. When he passes through the portal, it a sparks and fizzes—showering light and rippling the surface of it like the iridescent sheen of an oil spill. It consumes his stalwart figure, leaving not a trace left to be seen.]