Riven met Krux's unwavering gaze, leaning in slightly, his voice low but commanding.
"My first command…" His words carried an undeniable weight, thick with authority. The bond between them pulsed, and Krux visibly trembled, his entire being thrumming with anticipation.
"Yes, my liege! Just say the word and I shall-"
"Go clean yourself off," Riven interrupted, his expression twisting with barely concealed disgust as he flicked his fingers, trying to rid himself of the sticky golden ichor that had transferred from Krux's hair.
Krux froze.
"…What?"
"You're covered in that stuff," Riven gestured vaguely at the thick ichor coating Krux from head to toe. "It's disgusting. Wash it off before you do anything else."
For a brief moment, silence stretched between them.
Then-
"…As you command, my king," Krux intoned solemnly, bowing so deeply it nearly made Riven roll his eyes before he darted off toward the nearest water source, trailing golden droplets in his wake.
