"Arsu-?" Pride called. He'd thought he heard someone, but he wasn't sure. Pink-gold ethereal wings trailed wisps behind him as he touched down just behind the Throne.
Already he was steeling himself. He loved his son, of course, but the last time they'd spoken had been... stilted. Sad. Because the time before that? Arsu had come to tell him that his twin--Pride's other son--had died. He was still holding the gemstone, as the family decided (as a whole) to decide what to do with it. Arsu was pressing to have someone specific revive it, or attempt to, and Pride was willing but it was no certainty yet; and the grief and misery still hung heavy in his gut, as though he'd swallowed lead. It was a poison, that grief. It tainted everything, and even now, when he stepped out with pale grace, it was with a somber sense of melancholy.
The wings faded, their shimmering light vanishing into nothing. Pride nodded to Arsu, and then looked to his companion. For a moment he startled, a little, at the appearance and the horn, wondering if Arsu had taken the gemstone away after all-... but no, that wasn't the right stone at all. He pushed the thought away--pushed all thoughts away--and tried to be polite and welcoming.
"Hello," he offered, voice soft and melodic. "Good to see you, Arsu. Welcome," he said to the stranger, and flicked an ear, awaiting introduction.