O, how the cold made his joints ache and the air sting at his nostrils and lungs. In his trek across the Canadian terrain, he thought he had been over monumental mountains and stately ledges, but as soon as Rhysis, this dark-coated man of a certain sort of hysteria and longing, had made his claims on him Mapplethorpe could have sworn he clambered and shinnied up rock faces and gravel-dotted cliffs several times taller than what he had previously conquered. At one point during their travels, the aging man could not even bear to look down at the treetops below him, and it took several bouts of internal pep talk for him to quell the growing fear of heights in his bones. Having been stationed some ways away from Rhysis, a self-appointed lookout of sorts, the piebald male sat quietly on his own in the shadow of a large boulder, staring at the lightening sky over Relic Lore.

It had been hours since he last sneered and casually chuckled at the Aquila, and by now his act was wearing thin. It seemed to Mapplethorpe, now in this sort of eerie meditation, that Rhysis was growing weary of the mania Mapplethorpe tried to possess. True to his word, he had led the lost King to his Queen, and presently he wondered just how handsomely he would be rewarded... and, once rewarded, how he was to repay them both for their generosity (granted he would never go hungry or be homeless again). In this rare hour of solitude and musing Mapplethorpe might have looked much younger than he truly was if it weren't for the graying hairs on his gaunt face. This image was shattered, however as soon as the monarch's voice drifted into his ears.

"He should be around here... somewhere."

Both of his ears perked up and immediately Mapplethorpe was on his feet, his eyes hastily searching from side to side for Rhysis' figure. A wave of fear rippled through him as he recalled how he had told Rhysis that Naira had come to him, how she had wanted him. But, as quickly as the streak of unease had gone through him, it was gone. He stepped out from behind his shadowy post, his tail wriggling tentatively behind him. Squinting as he turned his face to the dawn, he inched toward the mouth of the cavern with his head tilted inquisitively as he tried to make out the two leaders against the glare of the sun. Once confident he was in their sight, he stopped himself from coming within meters of their personal space. No need for wildcards now... Might as well play the hand and role of the ever-loyal advisor and servant, the competent man he had meant to be under his eldest sister's rule.

"Sire?" the question fluttered from him like a bird freed from a cage, his tone purveying nothing but pure curiosity as he presumed that they were looking for him.