06-18-2019, 01:35 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-18-2019, 10:05 PM by Lepis.
Edit Reason: spelling!
)
Her husband’s name elicits a reaction from the champagne stallion, but Lepis chooses to believe Aten is suitably fearful and aware of her own name as well. Wolfbane is a Loessian war hero, but Lepis has been a queen thrice over, crowned while still damp from birth. The dun mare survived the clown king of Sylva when the fiery forest had been truly evil (and not the dim mockery it is beneath the current traitorous leaders). She has buried her youngest son when he’d been killed by the Tephrans, and she is determined to make the Taiga her fourth and final monarchy.
She would prefer that it be done peacefully, but there is something about the firm set of Aten’s shoulders that suggest such a thing might be growing farther out of reach. The stallion strikes her as a bold and determined creature, and surely an asset for any land he calls home. It would truly be a loss for them if he were to be ousted from the forest. It is a loss she is willing to suffer though, as it must be.
Aten does not respond for a moment, and her stormcloud eyes flick across his face, suspicious that his lack of verbal response might mean he is active in other ways. Does he, too, have some unseen gift? She feels nothing beyond the faint midnight breeze, so if he has some trickery he does not seem to be using it on them. Someone else, perhaps? Sounding an alarm?
Even if that is the case, she does not worry. These woods are quiet ones, and they are alone. Sending for help is unnecessary and could not arrive in time to prevent the inevitable.
Aten tells them that they are not wise, but Lepis’ smile does not falter. She has never claimed to be wise, and has been called foolish far more often than not. She’d nearly started two wars; he is quite mistaken if he thinks the resistance of a lonely forest is enough to make Lepis hesitate.
Wolfbane speaks for them both, and Lepis turns once more toward her husband as he speaks. She traces the familiar line of his jaw with an affectionate gaze, her head nodding in agreeably. Agreeable until he mentions their losses at least, and then the faint smile on her navy muzzle draws tight and vanishes.
Her husband offers Aten time to consider their request, but Lepis has been freshly reminded of their reason for coming here and her patience grows short. When she speaks again, it is without the soft and friendly smile, though her words remain crisp and without strong emotion: perfectly reasonable.
”We would prefer you remain in Taiga, continuing to give these woods the same protection you currently do. We do not intend to change the woods, only to bring more life to them.” She has other plans, of course, but they are for the future. Lepis has no qualms about lying to get what she wants, but this is not a situation in which she finds it necessary.
”Your time to consider grows shorter.” she says. ”You have until my patience wears thin” - if the sharp flick of her tail is any indication, the time is short indeed - ”And then we will take Taiga with or without your goodwill. If it must be without, do not think we will keep secret that it was your refusal to hand over leadership peacefully that led to any ills that might follow.” Lepis does threaten, but it is clear from the flint in her gaze that it is not an empty promise. If Aten knows the name of Wolfbane, he knows that he fought on the side of the dragons. A redwood forest is far better kindling than a tropical jungle like Tephra, and Lepis has no qualms about ruling from a burnt throne.
”Will you hand over leadership, remaining here as a valued protector of the Taiga?” Asks the pegasus mare with a finality in her voice that suggests this will be the last time she asks politely. ”Or must we take it from you by force?”
She would prefer that it be done peacefully, but there is something about the firm set of Aten’s shoulders that suggest such a thing might be growing farther out of reach. The stallion strikes her as a bold and determined creature, and surely an asset for any land he calls home. It would truly be a loss for them if he were to be ousted from the forest. It is a loss she is willing to suffer though, as it must be.
Aten does not respond for a moment, and her stormcloud eyes flick across his face, suspicious that his lack of verbal response might mean he is active in other ways. Does he, too, have some unseen gift? She feels nothing beyond the faint midnight breeze, so if he has some trickery he does not seem to be using it on them. Someone else, perhaps? Sounding an alarm?
Even if that is the case, she does not worry. These woods are quiet ones, and they are alone. Sending for help is unnecessary and could not arrive in time to prevent the inevitable.
Aten tells them that they are not wise, but Lepis’ smile does not falter. She has never claimed to be wise, and has been called foolish far more often than not. She’d nearly started two wars; he is quite mistaken if he thinks the resistance of a lonely forest is enough to make Lepis hesitate.
Wolfbane speaks for them both, and Lepis turns once more toward her husband as he speaks. She traces the familiar line of his jaw with an affectionate gaze, her head nodding in agreeably. Agreeable until he mentions their losses at least, and then the faint smile on her navy muzzle draws tight and vanishes.
Her husband offers Aten time to consider their request, but Lepis has been freshly reminded of their reason for coming here and her patience grows short. When she speaks again, it is without the soft and friendly smile, though her words remain crisp and without strong emotion: perfectly reasonable.
”We would prefer you remain in Taiga, continuing to give these woods the same protection you currently do. We do not intend to change the woods, only to bring more life to them.” She has other plans, of course, but they are for the future. Lepis has no qualms about lying to get what she wants, but this is not a situation in which she finds it necessary.
”Your time to consider grows shorter.” she says. ”You have until my patience wears thin” - if the sharp flick of her tail is any indication, the time is short indeed - ”And then we will take Taiga with or without your goodwill. If it must be without, do not think we will keep secret that it was your refusal to hand over leadership peacefully that led to any ills that might follow.” Lepis does threaten, but it is clear from the flint in her gaze that it is not an empty promise. If Aten knows the name of Wolfbane, he knows that he fought on the side of the dragons. A redwood forest is far better kindling than a tropical jungle like Tephra, and Lepis has no qualms about ruling from a burnt throne.
”Will you hand over leadership, remaining here as a valued protector of the Taiga?” Asks the pegasus mare with a finality in her voice that suggests this will be the last time she asks politely. ”Or must we take it from you by force?”
