There's a whirling of wind, a tornado forms before the Summer King. An ancient boot steps from the vortex as a shadowy figure follows. On first guess one would put his height about seven feet. A thin form solidified into dark grey armor that seemed to grow darker. Deep grey eyes that looked weary and bored studied the Summer King. Black hair reaches down to his shoulders, but is mussed by the constant treatment of wings. The human bowing deeply to the King of Fall and Leader of the Wylde Hunt. "My dear cousin, we are family. Must family be so mistrustful with each other? But I shall make the deal easy upon you- King of Sun and Warmth." Pulling away the shawl covering to the basket a raven takes flight off into Summer's lands. "No name need be traded and you get a ally within my Court." The grey toned Fae musses.