I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

She is foreign and blunt and he finds that he appreciates both things. There is something in the spice of her accent, hanging thickly between them, that reminds him of home and he revels in it, tasting the exotic roll of it and thinking of his mother and the vines and wondering if her heart beat for it the way his still did—would always. But he doesn’t let his mind wander terribly far down such paths, although they remain tempting. Instead he keeps his focus trained on her, gold-flecked eyes burning with interest.

At her question, a surprised laugh escapes him, whiskey burning the edges of his mouth.

He considers, for a moment, giving her the softened version of his answer. Giving her the polite answer to give in such a situation—the one that rests even now in the back of his mouth, drilled into him as the correct thing to say. But something in the sharpness in her eye, the predator tilt of her lip, makes him reconsider it and something simmers in his belly. “You certainly cut quickly to the heart of the matter, Aysel.” His voice drops, taking on a rougher edge, the sound of sword against sheath.

“I have fought for many things throughout my lifetime—many worthwhile endeavors. Land, family, love—all of them.” He could probably pinpoint each of the scars on him and tell her each story. Here. This is where I raided with my kingdom. Here. This is where I fought to rescue my family from their kidnapper. Here. This is where I was struck to my knees before my skull cracked and my life spilled out.

“But the truth is that I have always fought because I enjoyed it.”

He doesn’t try to soften it for her. She asked and he would be honest.

“Some would say I enjoy it too much,” a hunger sharpened the edges of his lacerated mouth, pulled taut in the corners as he considers her. “But they aren’t the ones on the front lines, are they?”

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

She talks, and it is like he is back home.

He could close his eyes and feel the humid heat lay across his broad back like a blanket. He could smell the pungent scent of Amazonian vine and flowers blossoming beneath the silver of their strange night. He could hear the feline yelping of the predatory cat, the sound of paw on lush ground. He could feel the rush of adrenaline as the warriors race by him, the sound of feminine voice both husky and girlish as they meld together into one cacophony of joy. Home. He hears it in the lilt of her voice, in the passion of her voice.

It brings an edge to his smile, a steely glint to his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest.

“You’re an Amazon,” he says quietly when she’s done, his ink-dipped ears flicking forward. “More of a jaguar than a wolf,” although his smile is equally wolfish as hers, the golden stallion unable to keep the warmth from his features. “I was raised there by my mother Twinge.” She had been fierce during her reign, beloved by her sisters, constantly trailed by her feline friend, although not many of this day and age know of her name anymore. It, like her body, had been washed away by time and rain.

For a second he considers her, rolling the idea around in his mouth before giving it to her.

“I would like to tell you of my home, Tephra, but I think you would be more interested to hear of another.” He swings his head upward and to the side, gold-flecked eyes narrowing on the horizon. “It’s called Nerine, and it’s where the new sisterhood has flourished—this time amongst sea and cliff and not the depths of the jungle.” He missed the jungle, would never love their new land in the same way, but he would always carry a soft spot in his heart for them. “I could take you there, if you would like.”

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

Everything she says strikes a chord within him and he nearly closes his eyes on a dark purr, thanking whatever brought an Amazon of old into his life. “My childhood was more than a hundred years ago. The passing of decades and centuries is no stranger to me.” Of course, much of that time had been spent underneath the ocean, saltwater on his tongue and behind his eyelids, but death and life did not feel so different nowadays as it used to. Even now, he found himself more often than not staring out into the ocean by the coast of Tephra, watching the waves lap up the beaches, feeling that dark pull in his belly.

He diverts his attention from such things, bringing it back to the present.

His lopsided smile warms at her mention of his mother.

“I’d like to think so, although it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her. She was lost to a great flood that swept through the jungle a lifetime ago.” It hurts less to talk about it now, to relive the memories of being a young stallion frantically looking for his parents in the receding waters. Atrox had eventually been revived, drawn back to the Chamber he always served. Twinge had not been so lucky.

Magnus aches when he thinks of her.

So he moves on, turning his attention to her question, and the kingdoms. “The lands here are different than they used to be. Not so clear cut and constantly changing. They morph and evolve, reflecting their leader to a greater degree than they used to.” It was easier when you knew what the Gates would do, or what the Chamber would do. They remained more consistent with the changing of power.

Now, everything was always up in the air. Kingdom loyalties switching so easily.

“Nerine is on the Northern coast and it’s the new home of the sisterhood. They are strong, proud—everything that you remember the Amazons are. Just this time surrounded by cliff and ocean.” He pauses, head turning to the opposite side where Tephra lay, just beyond the borders of the field. “Tephra is nearby. It is a volcanic isle, surrounded on three sides by water. It is lush and beautiful and humid. In many ways, it feels like the jungle.” He smiles at this, dark eyes sparking. “Right now, it is led by a young stallion named Kromium who has chosen to forgo traditional kingdom dynamic for a less structured approach.”

He is disarmingly honest here. “The truth is though, we are quiet. Too quiet. We need more than his family to sustain the land. We need leaders and those willing to shape the kingdom into something strong. Something that can remain a haven to those who need it but that isn’t vulnerable to the other lands should they choose to attack.” He doesn’t mention the fact that he helped found Tephra many years ago. That he was still bitter and unsure about Kromium’s approach to taking of the crown from Warrick. That he currently served as General. He merely lays the truth down, frowning briefly, before pivoting.

“And there are other lands too. Ischia, an island out in the water, reachable during low tide across a sand dune. Sylva, a forest with the most brilliantly colored leaves—all fire and sunsets. Loess, a rocky hillside land. I’ve heard that they run on contracts now, a kingdom for hire of sorts. And, finally, Hyaline. It’s run by two Queens and is nestled in the mountains, surrounding a brilliant lake.”

A pause, the stallion wishing he could tell her more, show her what the new Beqanna is actually like.

“I’d be happy to tell you more or take you to any of the lands should you wish to see them in person.”

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine