[open] One foot toward the gallows || Diplomats, Any ||

[Wolfbane]

My dreams have all come true

Such poor timing! It really blew that the weather had turned so quickly, but even worse was that it made traveling back to Brilliant Pampas impossible. Wolfbane would just have to make do until the weather passed, and as the storm rained hell over the towering forest he silently contemplated taking shelter further inland, despite his original intention to wait for company. Moments pass, his jaw clenches with indecision, and just as the sodden horse raises a forehoof to move ahead he catches the faint cry of another inhabitant.

Jerking suddenly to attention, Bane strains his wet, upturned ears to pinpoint wherever the call had come from. Again, the familiar sound rises above a lull in the rolling thunder and this time, the words are clear: whoever was out there wanted the pegasus to come to them. A bold type he reasons to himself, drifting away from the exposed clearing and delving into the redwoods. Every step is a sinking one, the soft cadence of his walk leaving him drenched to the knees in mud as he peers around thick roots.

He feels so small here, so very alone, and that wariness translates itself into him taking some further precautions. The Loessian goes invisible, his colors fading away because he’s not exactly sure of this place or the animals who call it home. Up until the moment he comes face to face with a large, out-of-the way cave, Wolfbane is erring on the side of caution; he’s got a wife and son (not to mention the family he called his ‘kingdom’) to return home to, and he’d prefer not to lose a limb or get captured in the process.

Hesitantly, with eyes trying to make out figures in the gaping, black cavern, the ghost-like newcomer raises his dark nose to scent the area. Female. He’s sure of it, so he turns off the defensive power of staying hidden and parts the curtain of rainwater over the entrance slowly, finding dual sets of glowing eyes watching his every move. “Well, that’s one way of introducing yourself.” The stallion remarks humorously, taking a stand just inside their cozy alcove. Behind him, the flare of lightning illuminates the outside world. He sees them both clearly, if only for a second, and the defensive nature of the mare smothers any further ideas of errant jokes.

“I’m called Wolfbane.” The male speaks, thunder accentuating his deadpan voice. At his sides both pale wings curl tighter around him, their long, outer feathers trailing far over his hindquarters. Water pools around his hooves and drips freely from his upright mane, but Bane makes no move to shake it loose. In fact he hardly moves at all but for his lips. “And I wouldn’t come here alone if those were my intentions.” He relays calmly.

Taiga is free, she says. The redwoods will not bend or make treaty, she says. That’s a shame, he thinks as he smiles gently towards the filly, thoughts of Pteron pressed close beside his mother filling up Wolfbane’s thoughts. “What will you do when Nerine comes, then?” He finds himself asking the stranger, curiosity peaking over the matter of her pride. Breckin and the Leviathans might find such a declaration laughable, but he certainly didn’t.

Like all good nightmares do

@[Lilitha]