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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Out here with the moves || Dayé, Sawtooth ||
    #1

    WOLFBANE

    Heartfire’s arrival had reminded the flighty stallion that somewhere, out there, he had two siblings roaming free. “Would mother be proud to see how lackluster of a guardian I am?” Wolfbane considers internally, walking about the springtime grounds of Loess with his nose hovering over the earth to glance under dark rocks and into thick scrub. Femur herself had devoted countless hours to the brood she loved more than life itself. He can never remember a time when, if he’d wanted her, the cloudy palomino mare wouldn’t have been there. “Always so attentive and present, here I am losing them and I’ve only got two to worry about.” He snorts.

    Today is good as any for a walk, though the fresh air and temperate weather begged him for a pleasant fly. If he left now, there’s a chance he could reach the outer edges of Taiga by noon and have the beach all to himself... But no, (even itching for reclusion and confinement of a sorts) the brief interlude where Lepis, Arthas, and Ischia were involved seemed to stall him. He replays the memory of coming home, “That same life now belongs wholly to you, Loess.” a mere echo in the back of his mind.

    When he’d left, he’d gone without saying goodbye to Dayé or Sawtooth.
    Never again.

    So their brother Wolfbane continued his unhurried search around the blossoming hills until he grew tired of the quiet and called out, “Saaawtooth? Daaayé?” Never really caring if he was disturbing some inhabitant or the other. He only cared that either one shadow-black or one dusky-rosed colored wolf answered.

    || The Pirate Lord of Loess ||



    @[Dayé] @[Sawtooth] if either of you wanted an immediate fam-thread, here it is Smile
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #2

    when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,

    The wolf-girl (perhaps she is more woman now as she enters the near-stage of adulthood) has finally made her way back into the stony and hilly landscape of Loess; her damp, black nostrils twitching curiously as she inhales scents both foreign and familiar, stale and fresh. Spring has brought the luscious scent of rabbit and other once-disappeared rodents, but Dayé’s appetite has been fully satisfied. Her muzzle (once a dusty cream rose) still remains painted with the deep rust brown of her most recent kill and even now she continues to savor its flavor with soft licks of her pink tongue across her lips. The buck left her stomach nearly bulging - a feast that she could not have dined on without help from a new friend, whose memory allows a soft growl of pleasure to murmur in her chest. The tiger easily had taken down the stag and though did not necessarily need Dayé’s assistance to do so, allowed the wolf to participate in the hunt.

    The sound of  her name draws Dayé to now walk with a bit more purpose, her once lazy and choppy trot now lengthening into an easy lope. The wolf recognizes the voice of her brother, whuffling gently as she uses her nose to separate his scent from the many that surround her, an excited wag of her tail seemingly propelling her forward. 

    It’s been awhile since she had seen him, but Dayé is not the one to worry. She comes and goes herself, like the tide, and would not expect her brother (or anyone) to be able to linger in one place for very long. Of course, it is the wolf’s instinct that pushes this understanding, and even though Wolfbane does not shed his skin for claws and fur, Dayé sees the same within him. 

    It only takes a few careful moments for the wolf to find him, her coffee-brown eyes sparkling gently as the familiar gold and deep blue of Wolfbane finally comes into sight. She does not slow her lope and instead shifts in the middle of her stride, the silent sound of paws suddenly turning into the steady thrum of dark hooves against earth. The wild woman comes to a halt beside him, sliding into a gentle prance before finally settling, though not before the pale honey-gold of her shoulder forcefully bounces against his own, the sunlight causing a shimmer of blue to flicker across her muscled skin. Ivory tresses (tangled and matted and muddied) plaster haphazardly across her face, for a moment masking the genuine excitement that has softened the edges of her sun-lit face.

    “Wolfbane,” she murmurs with an impish grin on her pinkish lips, reaching out to brush at the corner of his mouth where the shining flash of his fangs draw her attention, nipping at the blue of his soft muzzle where her wolf would have licked admirably.

    Dayé

    where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.



    @[Wolfbane] <33333 my heart
    #3
    Sawtooth is currently rolling around the flowering hills until her pelt is shiny and definitely flowery smelling when her name rings out loud and clear on the air. With tongue ever lolling out of her mouth, she raises her head before giving one last wiggle on the soft spongy earth and springing to her feet. It’s easy to scent the air and discern his position in the land so she pads slowly over to him.

    She finds it even harder to wipe the somewhat guilty look off her face because she knows she’s been remiss in her presence here. It couldn’t be helped. Or so she thought, blaming it all on growing pains even though she’s only a year old. Not once has she ever thought him as lax in looking after her. It might have been their mother’s last wish that he’d do so but she’d never hold him accountable for not following through when he had an entire kingdom to run.

    That and she’s spent an inordinate amount of time with their mother’s skull. She’d lay there with her head on her paws watching the waves roll in on the shore. Or lay on her back and watch the clouds scud by. Sometimes she’d bat at the tatters of golden skin still clinging to the skull or gnaw on some other less sacred but well-loved bone from mother’s corpse. 

    Occasionally she’d catch a rabbit for dinner or remember to eat grass if she was in her blue horse-skin. Food though was the farthest thing from her mind as she scented another wolf. It wasn’t the first time she had smelled a wolf on the air but figured her brother knew about another predator in his territory. It didn’t occur to her that it might possibly be a sibling of some sort.

    The scents of wolf and horse and flower all blend together in her sensitive nose as she comes closer but there are only two horses and no other wolves about besides her. She plops down on her sable haunches and peers up at the two with a puckish look. They could pass for lovers, maybe they are. “Am I interrupting?” she says with a growly laugh. How is she to know that the pretty mare is actually related to them? 

    @[Wolfbane] @[Dayé] this is utter shite but ily guys <3
    #4

    WOLFBANE

    Were it not for a lifetime spent honing his ears to the specific tune of paws, Dayé would’ve snuck up on him unknowingly but Bane turns, throwing a chiseled head aside in a way that shakes his trojan mane, just in time to watch the familiar she-wolf transform with gleaming appreciation obvious in his gaze. “Father would be proud.” He knows, despite also knowing that Longclaw had rarely shifted if he could help it.

    Just because the skin had never fit his father like the fire had didn’t mean that he took instructing the way of the wolf any less serious. Still, the soul of Dayé’s mother rests in that warg’s breast too, shockingly apparent in the animalistic tones of her horse-shape when at last she skirts to a halt alongside her elder brother. The energy she radiates breaks Bane’s stoic facade, producing a devilish smirk at the tug of her lips against his blue-black mouth.

    “You lovely monster,” He growls, feeling pensive over the way she’s grown so quickly. He’d blinked and she’d become a mare. “What trouble have you been stirring up?” The drake wants to know, and then from behind them a rustle breaks his focus.

    At the arrival of Sawtooth, a weight visibly lifts from his striped shoulders. They were whole now and he could relax, which he does with a deep sigh and a few lighthearted steps towards the prostrate shifter. “You’re always interrupting!” The pegasus jokes lamely, aware that she’d been a ghost herself but not aware that the reason was because Femur’s remains kept her occupied.

    Try as he might, and failing always, Wolfbane could never replace their shared mother. She was simply one of a kind.

    “Sawtooth, this is Dayé.” He nods in the direction of the electric blue, tinted palomino, “Our half sister and, like you, a wolf warg.”

    || The Pirate Lord of Loess ||



    @[Dayé] @[Sawtooth] I’m assuming here that Bane is aware of who Dayé’s mother is, but if I need to change anything let me know! (He’s so happy right now he could cry man tears)
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #5

    when i run through the deep dark forest long after this has begun,

    She smells the other long before a figure comes into sight. Dayé is busy listening to her brother’s voice, a gentle hum in her throat as she absentmindedly grooms him, teeth pulling at the whiteness of his upright mane, eyes half-closed with comfort. You lovely monster. Her chest reverberates with the unnatural sound of a pleased growl, her nose wrinkling slightly to reveal teeth as she feigns humility; it may be her half-brother that gave her the compliment, but as her alpha, the comment strokes her confidence. “No trouble, brother,” the wolf-woman replies to the pirate king, though her voice holds a prideful mischievousness that he would easily recognize. 

    The scent of a little wolf distracts her idly, the gold of a single ear flicking into the direction of where the young pup would soon come from, opening one coffee-colored eye to gaze expectantly. The hum in her throat grows into an interested sort of growl when the sable wolf plops down before them, pressing her chin to her chest to now turn her head towards the canine, mouth champing thoughtfully. The young wolf’s words brings a hint of a smile to Dayé’s lips, a flickering of blue lighting up the otherwise plain yellow gold of her face.

    Sawtooth, this is Dayé.
    Our half-sister, and like you, a wolf warg.

    Dayé cannot help the obvious pleasure that softens the angular planes of her face, her almond eyes electric and tantalizing as she takes a single step towards the sable wolf pup, her nose lowering to reach forward and bump Sawtooth’s jaw gently, her nostrils quivering as she picks up the familiar scent.

    Their pack is constantly growing and the sheer thought brings the smoothing of reassurance to Dayé’s soul, both wolf and horse. “Hello, sister,” the wild woman says in greeting, drawing her neck so that her head becomes upright, the haphazard flaxen of her tangled falling into her sharp gaze. 

    Dayé

    where the sun would set, trees are dead, and the rivers were none.



    @[Sawtooth] @[Wolfbane]
    #6
    With the absence of Mama Wound and rumors marring the air, she’s done nothing but run wild and a girl needs a mother after all - even a dead one suffices. She’d never be able to explain it to him. Wouldn’t even bother trying because it was enough to see him visibly relax now that all three of them are there and she assumes there must be some importance in the togetherness of it all that she’s not quite caught onto yet.

    He comes closer and jokes which makes her grin further. Sawtooth almost reached out to kick his nose just because she could... Then her black gaze (subtle shades of all black in her wolf shape then iridescent blue in her other skin) shifted to the blue-tinted mare with great interest as he explained the nature of their relationship: half-sister. 

    She never got to meet Valensia who should have been an older sister. Nor had she met Gansey either. Not as the pirate king had. Wildling she sought out from time to time since he’d shatter things for her just to see her smile or hear her laugh. But he never stayed long; always leaving after a while as he muttered something about her eyes and mother. Wishbone has been something like a sister too but she was mostly gone all the time too.

    Everyone was gone except Bane.
    Now this blue-gold girl that he said was a wolf too.

    Sawtooth couldn’t help the happy thump of her tail on the ground or the little shimmy of her rump even though she remained sitting upright as Dayé came closer. She remains painfully and perfectly still as the gold-blue bumps her jaw, her own nostrils quivering and working out the logistics of scent and pack-rank. A piece clicks into place that she hadn’t otherwise known was missing since Bane couldn’t run with her in this form. 

    A ripple of pleasure brings about the sudden change to her own small but growing form of a winged blue horse. That same pleasure lingers shyly on her face. “I’m happy to have a sister,” she admits, throwing a happy look to their big brother before crowding in closer to the two of them.


    @[Wolfbane] @[Dayé] ❤️
    #7

    WOLFBANE

    And there it is - the divide between two worlds only his sisters might inhabit. Wolfbane sees it plain as day, plain as the shift from Sawtooth’s one body to the other. In essence they might never need him to watch over, provide, or attempt to guide them but their instincts and the nature of their existence demands a sort of camaraderie their older brother is incapable of supplying. Given the chance he would (it would be embarrassing for him to admit how many countless times he’d tried to force his own body to reshape itself) just take this skin and remove it for a much more practical one, but he can’t.

    The pegasus stallion will never be anything but prey, when what Dayé and Sawtooth need are pack mates.

    He hopes that by bringing them together like this a further understanding of their own wants and needs might blossom. “When we were just kids, Dad would tell late-night stories about his father’s father being a wolf too. All the way back.” He recalls dreamily, allowing his pale feathers to mingle alongside the glinting blue of Sawtooth’s. “I can’t carry that on anymore.” The maned horse admits, smiling. “Not that I’m overly disappointed in that fact.” He chuckles.

    In a blink he’s gone invisible. Physically present in the sense that his real, tangible wings still press against his sister’s but altogether erased from sight. “Seems my mother’s lineage runs strong enough.” Their hidden companion murmurs, well aware that only a single generation, Femur’s, had skipped the crown. He knew personally nothing of the afamed Pollock, aside from  the well-known historical fact that he’d ruled the drowned Pangea and had been his mother’s father.

    In each of the siblings lies discourse and chaos, two wayward branches stemmed together by the coupling of their shared parents. “I do need something from you two, though.” He fades back, returning to a visible state in the way a drop of colored ink spreads slowly throughout a small body of clear water. For now they could be together and revive the memories of their youth, however the future could tear them apart again for months. Maybe years. “I need to know that you’re going to be okay.” He mentions, head moving aside to catch both their gazes, “I also need you to understand that if there’s anything, anything at all you want, just come to me first.”

    They stand in silence while a minute passes by. “Promise me.” He urges.

    || The Pirate Lord of Loess ||



    @[Dayé] @[Sawtooth]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]




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