she’s got jumper cable lips
she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

They are all in unison — voices rising above the threat of chaos to pull together the force of protection. They are Allied, but Wishbone wonders if they will become Family by the end of the war. Kagerus, Solace, Scorch, Brennen, Jesper, Warrick, Amorette; some of them are faces she has seen for all her life, some of them are faces she has only just met, yet each of them will become something unique and fire-born by the end of this next adventure.

However, her excitement sours in her stomach with her father’s arrival. While Amorette leans upon his shoulder as they come to a stop, Wound does not accompany them. Wishbone’s brows pull together beneath the thickness of her forelock at this minor detail, sure her mother would’ve wanted the opportunity to both have a piece of this meeting and see her daughter. The flare of concern is only further stroked when Warrick doesn’t greet any of his family members.

Despite her mother’s absence, they are all united under their similar morals. Each of them call to give Sylva exactly what they want, perhaps even by the tenfold, and this sort of energy causes Wishbone to press a firm stomp of her foreleg into the ground below. They each offer suggestions, building upon one another’s words, and the mahogany Khaleesi nods toward each as they speak in turn. Yet Warrick’s news is what first strikes the fire in her stomach before settling it immediately after.

For someone to challenge her father — Klaudius, of all of them — brings a laugh to Wishbone’s mouth. It’s short and rough, more of a snorting sound rather than filling itself with glee. Warrick has led Tephra with a hand that is both gentle and providing, securing and friendly. Amber eyes turn from Warrick’s stern face to Solace’s heated one and there is an intense yet thoughtful wordless conversation shared between the sisters. Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity for Beqanna to understand that no one is to mess with Warrick or his dynasty.

Wishbone’s lips fold into a firm line before softening at her father’s following words. Sylva’s threat of control and destruction has stretched into Beqanna’s common-grounds, making only a few secured places safe. Brennen crumbles before them, struck with the plaintivity of his daughters’ deaths, and Wishbone feels both sorrow and disquiet surround her in a firm grip. She knows, in these moments of fresh grief, that no words of consolation will be able to soothe him just yet, and thus she forces a soft exhale to leave her sable nose before turning to hear Jesper.

His story is both heroic and insightful, bringing a new amount of respect to Wishbone’s eyes. For a pin-pricking moment, the Khaleesi wishes her face wasn’t so well-known — that she might be able to sneak off as a spy into the snake’s territory and tease her ankles for a poisoned bite. She longs for that thrill, to dance with the devil and kiss death’s decomposing face before spiraling away, but her mind reminds her (once more, as it will many times into the future) that she has a crown to carry and a country to lead.

The Leviathans need her past the intoxication of spying or the danger of toying with death.

“Thank you for braving those conditions, Jesper.” Wishbone knows with certainty that the Ischian stallion will always be allowed into Nerine’s territory with open arms and that hospitality shimmers in her amber gaze now, as it finds him. “We should act soon.” She is echoing words that have already been spoken. If they are to attack Sylva, it should be near in the future. “More will die, or worse, if we don’t do something.” The chaotic have a knack for making death look sweet and welcoming, Wishbone’s heard. She wouldn’t ever dare to wish such a thing upon anyone (though for a moment her thoughts twist to a purple face before she brushes it aside) and there must be a moment to act. “I agree that bringing their children away from that vile land is a good move; surely they will live happier and safer lives with us.” How they decide which children move to which land rests in the hands of a different day.

Wishbone falls silent then, her amber eyes moving between each loyal Ally gathered there with each pulse of her heart.

wishbone