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  • Beqanna

    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


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    pack mentality; wolfbane
    #1
    The animals have begun to sicken and die. 
    There is no more happy hunting in the hills. Only death, and the days’ old scent she tracks with a wet sniffing nose.

    She tracks him all the way to the pampas, full of tall once-lush grass. It seems perfect for hunting smaller vermin such as mice and voles. Unbeknownst to her, she is smacking her lips together in satisfaction and anticipation. No meal was ever guaranteed but the sleek black wolf is no slouch when it comes to finding one..

    Every so often, she stops and lays an ear flat against the ground to listen for signs of larger game. She does the same when sniffing the ground to make sure she hasn’t lost the scent of him - he is the starry beacon that guides her forth. Hopefully he hasn’t forgotten about her…

    She’s spied him with his mate; knew it was only a matter of time until their pack increased in size. Knows too, that he is busy - on the cusp of war, troubled by plague, and maintaining his ruthless rule. All things she’s never taken much interest in, preferring her lone-wolf lopes through the wilderness. 

    Preferring her macabre hobby of mouthing their mother’s bones on the beach and holding conversations with her sun-bleached skull.

    He’s easier to find in the brilliant swaths of grassland - tall and striking. She is not quite as tall as he is, but is just as striking in horse-form though that is a shape she wears less and less nowadays. The wolf was better. So she sniffed and snuffled her way towards him, recognizing a few other scents in the process but relegated them to states of unimportance. Only her brother mattered.

    She barked once before the grass parted around her like butter, and she, the lean black knife. Her eyes laughed up at him as she play-growled and dove in to nip at his heels before throwing herself on the ground in unabashed exhaustion. “Nice place,” she mentioned casually, around a tongue that would not stay in her mouth.

    @[Wolfbane] <3
    #2

    My dreams have all come true

    Every shifter follows a set of laws determined by nature: other kin are not prey, stick to your territory, and harness control so as to avoid accidents. For individual species the fine print was a bit more elaborate; one whose soul could inhabit dual forms often felt compelled to be ruled by the second animals desires, whether that be a taste for flesh or (in the wolves case) a need for pack. This is why, between the three remaining siblings of Longclaw and Femur, there’d been a pact.

    Wolfbane himself can still remember the tense agreement he’d made his sisters promise before they’d all gone on their individual ways, and that same self-styled rule of “if you need me, come to me for help” seemed falsely empty now that the plague had swept in full across Beqanna. How could Bane possibly know if his wards outlasted the chaos? They could be sick, or worse dead, and no rotting corpse that he knew of had ever reanimated to warn him of hindsight.

    So when Sawtooth appeared from thin air, lending her elder brother a sharp, tonal bark in lieu of greeting, the Pirate Lord swept around to drink in the vision of her night-black shape with an impossibly wide grin. Glinting in the winter sun, dancing a few short feet ahead to lamely avoid her attack on his sapphire hind legs, and then twisting around to shake a stiff mane while gusts of excited snorts rattled up his nostrils, the last son of the old warg of Tephra replied, “It came with a keeper and everything.” As if this was something inconsequential and expected. Noah’s arrival and claim meant less work for Wolfbane, and he had no problem turning the land over to her deft hands in word and deed alike.

    On the upside this granted the Loessians and remaining Sylvians an uncontested home to call a safe haven, until the disease blew over. Sawtooth’s elder sibling felt that with her arrival also came hope - that more would eventually trickle in and among them would be Dayé. Didn’t hurt to ask though, “Have you seen Dayé? I assumed you two had slipped away together but I’ve been known to make horrible assumptions.” The striped stallion questioned, drawing nearer to look down at the she-wolf. Her coat seemed glossy and perhaps a bit thicker, due to the cold weather, and if he had to guess by look alone he could swear she’d grown exponentially. Time was stealing his baby sister’s youth away just like it’d done to his lion-hearted ranger.

    A sigh escapes him then, something of a habit the male pegasus couldn’t seem to shake during these past few days of constant upheaval.

    Like all good nightmares do



    @[Sawtooth] um yes hello, this is amazing and ties into what he was going to ask Titus to help him with: a flying search party <3 you read my plot mind Big Grin
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #3
    Sawtooth rolls around in the grass, itching her shoulders and back as her tail thumps happily against the ground. She’s heard of this plague business - seen the way it has taken root in the animals that she used to prey upon. Now she has to shapeshift back and devour mouthfuls of bland boring grass to satisfy her hunger.

    It just wasn’t the same as feeling the joy of the hunt or the spray of blood in the mouth and the crunch of skin and bone between her teeth. Even thinking about it leaves her with a happy toothsome grin on her muzzle as her eyes close to mere slits against the bright sunlight falling down on her. She thinks she could like it here already - it was easy to do since part of her pack was here.

    She dismisses the mention of the pampas coming as a package deal with a keeper too. How delightful for him not have to bend a knee or conquer. Sawtooth wonders if he is relieved to no longer be in charge of more than just his sisters or if this is just a brief respite until the plague passes. She just assumes that it will, like everything else in Beqanna.

    The black wolf sits up and manages a frown, nor can she stifle the curl of upper lip over teeth as he asks after their sister and packmate. This is Bane - brother, uncontested pack-leader, and she does not hide the worry from her face. “No, we had but then I lost her and I couldn’t find her scent.” Sawtooth lays back down and buried her face in her paws at the awful admission she’d had to make to him - that she, of all creatures, could not track their sister down.

    Deep down, she was afraid the plague might have claimed her and she wished with wild desperation that that wasn’t true. In the meantime, she couldn’t bear to look at him, feeling like she had somehow failed him in keeping their pack together.

    @[Wolfbane] great minds think alike! <3
    #4

    My dreams have all come true

    Despite their blood relation Wolfbane can’t help but feel a bit idiotic for not understanding just how severely this plague affected all living creatures in Beqanna. His sisters needs outweighed his own and the image of her gaunt belly, shown to him during her pleasurable little backrub, reminds him once again that their lives were vastly more complicated from the duality of being both predator and prey. Sawtooth’s slitted eyes and faint rumbling make her problems obvious: she chose wolf over horse and a wolf cannot be wholly happy with inferior grazing.

    Tucking that into the back of his mind, Bane scrutinizes the shift of his younger sisters demeanor with a frown of his own. He’s not upset but her admission does give him cause for further concern on behalf of Dayé, and only that. Sawtooth wasn’t responsible for keeping order in the pack - that was his concern, pressed into him by necessity and love for his siblings. The pegasus was honorbound to protect and watch over them, but at the same time Dayé was a grown and capable shifter.

    “Little growler,” Her brother protests affectionately, lowering himself down onto the cold earth with the fold of his legs and a horse-like groan, “look at me. She’s fine. Our sister is strong and so are you.” He insists with a resolute smile, one that tilts his blue lips into the same shape of Longclaw’s signature grin. Level to the wolf and glaring at her ashamed, hidden snout, Wolfbane reaches out to tug the short fur between her lowered ears. “More than likely she went to another safe zone, ‘kay? I bet right now she’s feeling just as guilty for leaving you behind.”

    She better be, he thinks to himself. Having to watch Sawtooth carry the burden of failure like this was heart wrenching to the bone. Dayé would get a verbal skinning when he came across her again. A loving, verbal skinning. “You did right by coming here. I’m going to go for a fly in a little while and I'll look out for her. In the meantime just make yourself comfortable if you can. No plague here but there's plenty of rabbit, quail, and who knows what else.” The stallion admits openly, wings pressed into the ground.

    Like all good nightmares do



    @[Sawtooth]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #5
    She never expects him to consider her needs or wants; he has others to concern himself about and she figures into the small and few that can actually fend for herself no matter what. Despite the lean hungry look to her, she’s managed to snag a few plague-free mice and voles during her travels that have kept her from ending up as a bag-of-bones casualty. Of course when she’s really beset by hunger, she shifts and dates it with mouthfuls of unpalatable grass but it just wasn’t the same. It was enough to survive.

    Sawtooth felt like that’s all she’s been doing since birth - surviving. Not that she minded. It made her tough and capable, but aloof and nigh untouchable. Except for him and their sister-wolf. Sometimes, it made for a lonely existence but then she just hunted a small varmint and all was right as rain.

    Funny expression that, but she thought no more of it as she looked him over. He seemed hale enough; his coat glossy and his muscles hard and thick. In fact, he seemed to be at his best… she suspected a mare had something to do with that and couldn’t help laughing out loud. Their family was forever falling in love. Nothing wrong with that, she supposed.

    Bane distracts her, as her mind is forever in flux between a myriad of thoughts. His voice is steeped in affection and she lets it soothe her disappointment in herself as he insists that Dayé is fine. Deep down, she knows this is true but still felt some speck of responsibility for not being strong enough - like him - to keep their odd but lovable pack together. She can feel his eyes on her but doesn’t respond until he tugs at the fur between her ears, reaching up to bat at his face with a playful paw.

    “I bet you’re right, and I didn’t even think about other safezones but there must be more like this one.” She bobs her head, echoing his sentiment of certainty because she trusted that he was right. The words of adored big brothers are always absolute, she reminds herself with a toothy grin meant for him. Her tail thumps the ground happily as he mentions she did right by coming there, by tracking him. She takes pride in her ability to scent others and follow them with her keen nose.

    Sawtooth stays low to the ground, belly-scraping low as she maneuvers around him and noses at the feather-fluff of his wings. “So what’s new with you big brother?” She doesn’t mention that she can smell a mare on him.

    @[Wolfbane] ❤️
    #6

    My dreams have all come true

    Sawtooth would never know or ever see the dark parts that still linger underneath her elder brother’s surface. When she came to him on a balmy day long ago, a bit shorter and a bit more wild, he’d done well to swallow the resentment of seeing her as a wolf. Both his sisters harbored that gift given solely by his father, something that Wolfbane felt should’ve been his as well - and only once had it ever truly bothered him. Had he been a weaker sort of man perhaps the jealousy would be worse, maybe the touch of her black paw raking across his nose would’ve been met with a flinch or snarl, but he’s not one to be consumed like his father and grandfather before him. Why should he? Dayé and Sawtooth loved him, they loved him, and jealousy could only serve to tear that fragile love apart at the roots.

    “Oh, nothing out of the ordinary …” Bane toys casually, one wing crushed between his girth and the pampas grass around them, the other shivering to tickle Sawtooth’s inquisitive nose. The thing about being a pegasus was that he couldn’t roll to scratch that tender spot between his withers, he could only prop himself to the side and let his legs cramp underneath his bodyweight. Relieving that itch, ironically, involved Lepis. “Same shit different day. Leading some horses, upsetting other horses … making you a soon-to-be Aunt. The usual.” He yawns nonchalantly.

    Sly and casual, a grin wraps around his mouth. It wasn’t like Sawtooth to be so pointedly curious, though her brother can make an educated guess as to what she’s scented on his skin. He and Lepis have been grooming each other (among other activities) for some time now, since Arthas no longer threatened their peace. No sense in keeping the news all to himself like a greedy guts. “What have you being doing to keep yourself busy?” The stallion chuckles, eyeing his wolfkin mischievously in a weak attempt to divert the conversation.

    Like all good nightmares do



    @[Sawtooth]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #7
    He hid his resentment well. It was something that she never knew of. Couldn’t even fathom that he might be jealous of her and the ability she inherited from their father. Sawtooth couldn’t even conceive of the very idea that he had darker moments - thoughts, weaknesses - because he hid it so well and because she was so blinded by simple idolatry of her older brother that she simply found him above such crass earthly desires as that. 

    Maybe because he carried the weight of a small world on his shoulders. Loess and it’s inhabitants figured prominently into his design that she couldn’t imagine him as anything but the big brother who was king. That to her, defined him. Especially since he still found time to laze around and indulge his littlest sister.

    Her lips draw back from her teeth as the feathers tickle her nose; she’d not really bite them - just mouth them playfully until she had enough but she doesn’t even do that much. His wings were a delicate but important part of him. Not that delicate is really all that synonymous with the image of Wolfbane that she’s built up in her head. Which elicits a rumbly low laugh from her as she lifts a paw to bat his wingtip away from her face.

    If she’d known he had an itch, she’d probably have shifted and obliged him in relieving it. Since she didn’t, she contented herself with mouthing a particularly long feather and wondering how she could take one for her collection. Sawtooth has a piece of mother in the form of some bones scattered in hidey-holes between here and Loess; she was thinking how she ought to add a few vertebrae to her mane and tail along with a pale feather or two to complete the look.

    Then he mentions oh so casually about her becoming an aunt and she freezes in place. A what?! An aunt! Her smile is slow but happy, and oh so toothy as her furry bottom starts to wiggle a little. Even her tail thumps the ground happily. “An aunt huh? Who’s the lucky lady?” her eyes are glittering inside her wolf’s face; she could easily pick out who by scent but she doesn’t know anyone here besides him.

    And one other.
    She briefly wonders what her brother might make of that…

    Her own grin matches his in slyness as he inquires about what she’s been up to. “Oh you know…. hunting, the usual.” and reconnecting with someone from her not-so-long-ago childhood. That same someone she’s happened to have spied following her brother around quite a bit. Even heard of his promotion to Bane’s right or left hand; she hadn’t paid that much attention so as not to be nosy and obvious.

    Her sudden inattentive attitude and lapse in conversation might be pointedly obvious to her big brother, that’s she thinking about something or someone else. She tries to cover it up with another smile and a quick bump of her nose to his nearest folded leg. “Meeting people too,” she adds slyly before looking away from him so he couldn’t quite see the things in her eyes, like silly hope and girlish like that could so very easily become longing.

    (she’s not even sure how Bane would handle the news of her having already known his secondhand man back in their earliest days of how she might have developed a crush on him from afar. she’s a little scared… do big brothers let their little sisters have lives like that?)

    @[Wolfbane] ❤️




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