[Ren stops mid-stride, back held to Prince, chin canting only by careful degrees-- just enough to tip his head in acknowledgment of the fact that he'd heard Prince's demand.
And that he opts not to follow it blindly.
His side still aches; blood sits, smeared ruddy across his face from the line of his nose downward, painting him with an ugly swath of crimson he doesn't care to wash away. For all the illusions of grandeur he holds (for all the doubt that clings tightly to his shoulders) he knows that as he is in this moment, he can't compete. Cant rise to the challenge the way he otherwise would.
A few seconds longer, and Ren opens his mouth - wordless, working his jaw in agitation before at last turning on his heel, expression steeled. Unflinching.] I don't answer to you.
no subject
And that he opts not to follow it blindly.
His side still aches; blood sits, smeared ruddy across his face from the line of his nose downward, painting him with an ugly swath of crimson he doesn't care to wash away. For all the illusions of grandeur he holds (for all the doubt that clings tightly to his shoulders) he knows that as he is in this moment, he can't compete. Cant rise to the challenge the way he otherwise would.
A few seconds longer, and Ren opens his mouth - wordless, working his jaw in agitation before at last turning on his heel, expression steeled. Unflinching.] I don't answer to you.