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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


    [private]  .:Bloodfeather:. (Litotes)
    #1

    Wolfbane couldn’t quite decide if Loess in summer or Loess in spring was his favorite. He loved the winter season because it kept him confined to the hot springs and gave him reason to travel further south for vacation, to the Pampas, and anytime he needed a true dose of Autumn he could head west to Sylva, but something about the way Loess flourished in the spring and then cooked in the summer made his love for the kingdom grow fresh each year.

    The errant spring storms were over now, and the hot sun gleamed full and bright in a nearly cloudless sky as he walked along the eastern border where the red stone spires cast long, cool shadows across the scorching earth. His hoofbeats were muffled by the mixture of sandy grit and dry soil, each footfall stirring up a small cloud of crimson dust as Wolfbane trudged along the beaten path, rock formations rearing up into the heavens on either side of him. A few hundred more feet to the right and he’d be toying with Hyaline’s border; he could see the faint hint of green on the edge of his vision when he turned to look.

    How many times had he flown this way, walked these trails? Now Pteron, his eldest son, walked them as well. Things had changed in his absence, but lately Wolfbane had seen the necessity of those changes and had come to appreciate them.

    Castile was the King the Southlands needed right now. These days were not days of peace or quiet, they were fringed with worry about the plague. The most Bane had accomplished was leading his followers to the safe zone when the sickness first spread, and Castile had brought them (plus some) back. His duty was to his family now, which included the dragon-King, and he would do that by hunting down Wyrm and training for his challenge with Vulgaris, whichever came first. It was why he’d taken to walking the patrol instead of flying - he would build and tone muscle that’d been neglected in his time away.

    Ahead of him, the hazy vision of an off-white horse came into view. With so many new faces coming to inhabit the once quiet kingdom, Bane couldn’t say that he felt surprised to see someone wandering out so far, but he flared his wings as a white, symbolic flag all the same and stretched his legs into a rolling trot that sped him onwards towards the stranger.

    Refugee of Loess : Member of the Southlands

    Wolfbane



    @[litotes] as promised Big Grin
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #2
    Litotes time in Loess is quickly coming to an end, so he spends most of his days patrolling the borders and further familiarizing himself with the land. Though most of his misfit home is deeply etched in his mind, he finds a new little something to ponder about daily. Lie will miss Loess when the time comes to go. The people are not friendly but they certainly made him feel welcome. Perhaps an unruly lifestyle is what he always needed.

    Little cacti dot the border of the Mountain and Loess, sickly and green and barely alive against the wind of the larger formation. Lie cocks his head and smooshes one with a contemptful hoof, thinking with a chuckle that he is putting the little sucker out of its misery. If his legs were not so restless, perhaps he would have let nature have her way with the plant; alas, he has a reckless energy constantly seizing his muscles, and little creatures such as these pay the price.

    A white flash catches the lion-man’s attention, his golden eyes darting forward to see which direction the equine is approaching from. The wind presses into his maw as he lifts it, the scent on the breeze a Loessian one. Tense muscles relax and a cool smile passes over his face. Whoever this is belongs here, and they are clearly making a beeline to his position.

    Wolfbane draws closer, blue and white and gold all mingling to create a regal-looking blur. Litotes immediately recognizes the man: previous leader of Loess, spectator of the exact moment he decided he did not like Ilma. The cold smile branches into a delighted one. It seems Wolfbane is always well-met, head high and proud. There is a certain ambiguity between the two that makes their brief interactions ever more interesting.

    “Wolfbane,” the once-king’s name rumbles in the back of his throat. “I’m glad to see you’ve made Loess a home once again. Are you on a patrol? Perhaps we can walk together.” Lie swishes his tail and steps forward, indicating with a nod to continue along the border.

    @[Wolfbane] what is proof reading or html sorry this is poo poo garbage
    #3

    The delight at seeing the stranger was no stranger at all becomes as evident as the genuine smile on Litotes face, when Bane finally closes in. Rarely does Wolfbane have the opportunity to make a good impression and even rarer is his ability to initially respect others without cause, but since their first interaction he finds that his admiration for Litotes comes easily. Ilma had been a thorn in his side before the two came for a visit, having stolen Lepis what seemed like ages ago now, and assessing the two during that initial wave of the plague had left him more secure in his feelings about one and more interested in his curiosity at the other.

    Now the pale horse sports fangs like Wolfbane had once, and his suggestion at the two patrolling together is met with a nod and the likewise recognition of, “Litotes, you always know just what to say.” Before the soft rumble of laughter follows.

    Underhoof the dirt grinds in a familiar way, keeping rhythm to the way they each step forward and keep on along the path. It’s no secret that his comrade is the Marauder; that much could be learned from Pteron and the gossip of those who’d come to call this place home in his absence. What was unknown was that he’d soon be leaving them for more… challenging opportunities.

    “However you came to be here I’m glad for it. Especially glad now that I can see more of you.” Bane admits, wholly in the air of possible friendship. “I felt like we might’ve been on our toes the first time but now, obviously things have changed.” His companion smiles briefly.

    “I hope the idea of getting to know you better is a welcome one.” Wolfbane suggests, glancing over to the cremello now and again. “Pteron is working hard under your and Castile’s guidance. I hardly feel useful.” He jokes aloud. “Hoping to change that though. I’m sure you’ve heard about my ‘situation’ with Vulgaris by now.”

    Refugee of Loess : Member of the Southlands

    Wolfbane



    @[litotes] not poo poo, never poo poo. We can totally make this a short thread since I know a lot has changed timeline-wise xD
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #4
    It is an easy transition, falling into step next to Wolfbane. Litotes has found his sudden lack of solitude within Loess refreshing. His time captured by Castile was much shorter than his time in Hyaline; and yet, he has garnered much stronger relationships here. Just the thought of his time serving the East leaves a hollow feeling in his chest. Kensa and his children are his remaining ties to that wretched kingdom - THAT thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

    The cremello grins at the mention of their last encounter. All had ended well, but perhaps he was not as good at hiding his distaste for Ilma as he thought he had been. Or perhaps Loess will never again find kindness for the diplomat.

    “On our toes, indeed . . .” he murmurs, casting a mischievous eye upon his companion. “Was it obvious I do not like Ilma, or does the whole of Loess find her . . . unbearable?” Lie is no fool: while not in-depth, his knowledge of the previous hostility between the two kingdoms is just enough to know Ilma is not as put-together as she seems.

    Wolfbane’s words and the gentle hum of dry insects fills the air between them. There is an attentive quiet that molds the stallion’s face, a certain respectful silence. They are equals, and perhaps more, Litotes thinks - regardless of any ranking within their nation. A still small voice in the back of his mind roots for Bane to find a high place amongst the land once again.

    “Pteron is an eager one, I’m certain he would love the guidance of a third warrior,” is Lie’s first reply. He chews on his next one for a moment, allowing the image of Vulgaris to pass through his mind. “Yes, I am sure all of Loess has heard.” He punctuates with a chuckle. “The both of you are hard to ignore.”

    A breeze tousles the bit of mane between the cremello’s ears when he pauses. He wonders how he fit in so quickly, and if all the relationships within Loess are as easy to break into. The four big personalities in Loess stick in his mind: Castile, Vulgaris, Wolfbane, and perhaps himself - if he did not have designs on a certain kingdom. Wolfbane, though, seems to suit their land the most.

    “Is Loess always this . . . fascinating?” His question is sudden, and he turns to face Bane with a curious brow. What he wants to say is tumultuous, but he does not want to give off the impression he dislikes the chaos.

    @[Wolfbane]
    #5

    Their travel leads south, past the overreaching shadows of tall rock spires and towards the area where a common land borders Loess. The Forest is a place Wolfbane knows and frequents; he fears intrusion in this particular location more than others, given its neutral designation. Those without kingdoms or territories to tether them somewhere call this place home, and the Forest’s somewhat sinister look seems the type of home where the less-desirable scum lie in wait.

    But his attention, for the moment, remains on Litotes and their conversation. In a brief response to Pteron’s eagerness, Bane laughs in the way that sounds more like a rolling snort. His firstborn son was already nearly a stallion himself when he and Lepis finally returned. Now, the student was slowly becoming the master in all things battle-related. While his father was busy reconnecting and co-parenting, Pteron was free to hone his skills both in the air and on the ground.

    His boy was destined to eclipse Wolfbane in both height and prowess, and even though that knowledge was humorous now, it was still a deeply rooted source of pride for the blue-and-gold pegasus. Both he and Lepis loved their children unequivocally, but Pteron… brave, bold Pteron had more than earned the title of the “golden child” among his siblings.

    “Not to toot my own horn, but I think the day Arthas handed power over to me was the day Loess changed for good. She has a reputation about her now, yea?” He rhetorically asked his cremello friend, the shape of his own gleaming blue mask transforming to give him a devilish sort of composure. “Castile, Vulgaris and I are just doing our best to keep that tradition alive.” Bane quipped lightly, “Thanks for joining in.”

    With the Forest now looming some distance at their side, Litotes compatriot slowed himself until he stopped. Wolfbane tilted as if to make his way towards the area for further inspection but relaxed and bent one iridescent hind leg instead. “As for Ilma, she has a difficult time accepting that her methods aren’t the best course of action one-hundred percent of the time.” Wolfbane shrugged both wings, “I think even back then you knew it, as does everyone who has the pleasure of asking her opinion or receiving it when she so graciously decides you need it anyway.” The drake smirks.

    Refugee of Loess : Member of the Southlands

    Wolfbane



    @[litotes]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]




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