368 Marrowy

Dark and reflecting the moonlight, the jet taxied onto the runway. The pilots were most happy for one had scratch marks going down the neck. Their expression was of utmost bliss, a pleasure incomprehensible but to themselves.

 "Are we going to Alphia now?" asked Arle.

 "No, we're heading to Rotherham first," he explained to which the Emperor nodded about and fell asleep. The informal attitude born off their relation means that manners weren't such a necessary attribute. Not that anyone would be disrespectful, dropping certain aspects of being well-mannered and being oneself was what the Nobles and Royalty often sought - to be themselves, nothing more, nothing less. "I'll give the explanation later; we'll be there faster than you'd think." Upon the last words being said, the engine went full-throttle, a high-pitched whistle followed by the Jet getting air.