Envy was wandering, scampering through narrow back alleys and trying their best to keep away from paths they knew. They were bored, which was bad enough, but worse still was the strange, bubbling feeling of unrest. They'd left the party preparation to the Seven for the time being. They were expecting some results by the time they'd gotten back- they were expecting more food and decorations and maybe even more subjects, but they'd grown sick of looking at the mangled remains of cave deer that their subjects had brought them.
In addition, there was the strange behaviour of Pride as of late- the white deer, who Envy valued and treasured as their most loyal subject, had been acting... strange. troublesome, almost problematic. He followed Envy's orders, sure- but Envy had noticed a stiffness, a scowl or two, an edge to his normally soft voice. But what did Envy care? They were a king. They told themselves that they had to stay above this. If there was a problem, the deer should come to them. They'd followed his advice, which was in itself a stretch for Envy. Didn't Pride see how much that meant? How hard it was to be a good King?
As far as they were concerned, Envy should just sit back on the throne and let their subjects do the work. That was how they'd always imagined Kingship to be. All grandeur and praise. But they were doing more than that, going above and beyond.
Pride should be... proud of them. Pride should be happy. Why wasn't he? What were they doing wrong?
A sudden spurt of energy kicked up the weasel's heels and they bounded forward, surging until they were panting before slowing again to a scampering trot. Even then, their quills rippled and trembled with unrest. Their jaw was clenched, gaze flickering.
They were a good king.
Pride knew that. Right? Everything they did was following his advice! As ridiculous as it was... A king following their subject's advice...--
The weasel was drawn out of their inner turmoil by the deep sound of something overhead. A shadow passed over them, and Envy flattened themselves instinctively to the ground for a moment, glancing upwards. They were half expecting to see claws descending towards them and their heart rate quickened, but only a jagged silhouette- distant, and yet still oversized, glided past. What was that? The shape of a wing? whatever it was, it was far wider than their narrow side street, and it was almost definitely alive.
Envy relaxed their heart rate, and, curiosity piquing along with their namesake, scampered after the fading sound of wingbeats. As always, they wanted to see what it was- they wanted to stand, stare, and satisfy their wondering- even though they knew it would ultimately make them feel worse. It was, at least, a temporary distraction from their kingly duties and their despair.
The wingbeats had soon faded into the distance, whatever it was pulling far ahead of them. Envy once again broke into a sprint, bounding in a flowing motion. They followed until their lungs were burning again, and mouth dry, until the sound had finally stopped. Still the weasel continued on, finally slowing to a trot again. They'd moved out of the back alley and with the ease of cycles living in the fallen city, navigated through wider streets and crumbled buildings. Finally they entered a familiar amphitheatre- they were just about to enter, when they saw the target of their curiosity. Envy's eyes widened, and they froze in place for a long moment before jerking back and out of sight. Raising themselves upright, the weasel straightened their crown and combed back a few of their quills, quickly grooming their whiskers.
Oversized? That thing was huge. It was colossal. It was huge and jagged and thorny, with big wings and none of the ethereal strangeness of the Three Kings. And Envy could bet their tail barb that it had big teeth, too.
Why couldn't they have been one of those?
The weasel finished fixing themselves up and shivered. As King of Orion, they wanted to speak to this thing. They had that over the enormous creature. Besides, it might be friendly. Might be. Besides, if it attacked, there was always plan B. To squeeze their way into a tiny crack and disappear. If there was one thing they were good at, it was disappearing. They would need to be careful, though.
The weasel once again appeared in the entrance of the amphitheatre and pattered towards the hulking form of the dragon, holding their crowned head high. They stopped a respectful (but most importantly safe) distance away.
"Greetings!" they shrilled, high-pitched voice echoing around the circular structure. They stood on their hind legs, trying in vain to look tall despite the fact that they could probably have curled up on a single scale of the massive dragon. "I am King Envy of the Sinful Seven! Welcome to my domain!"
Speech. Thought.