What did he say to Castile? That being idle wasn’t in his nature? Something like that, maybe a bit more direct but something like that and it was true. Wolfbane has been at the helm of Taiga for perhaps a month now, give or take, and already he feels well enough in his new position to leave the redwood forest just west of here in order to stretch his wings. 

The ancient woods aren’t like Loess. They don’t allow winged horses much room to practice and the canopy suspended countless meters above them is usually so thick it’s impossible to breach. But the territory he now controls has a few open spots for casual grazing. Breaks in the tapestry of branches that allow streams of sunlight and a horse not unlike himself to lift off the ground for a quick fly.

He’s relaxed when he takes off, letting his hind legs stretch out. His forelegs, wrapped in the same shimmering blue that gives him stripes and an odd mask, are tucked safely to his girth while his stark white wings lift up and then down in lazy, concentric arcs. Before he’d changed and assumed a new power, Bane had only been able to see little blurs of whatever was down below him when he flew. Now, coasting through a pleasantly blue autumn sky, he can still see everything so clearly.

That’s why he doesn’t miss the random appearance of the chestnut mare, or how her expression seems carefree despite her circumstances. She looks up. Bane looks down, deep into the recesses of her shockingly blue eyes, and then drops from the sky to land waist-deep in a sea of whispering grass.

“Morning.” He says to a few nomads, shaking out his thick neck and feeling the way his stiff, trojanesque mane bends from side-to-side with the motion. They nod and continue on with their business. For them, a blue and gold pegasus is commonplace. He marches on.

When it’s clear that he’s intending to approach her, the chestnut female with a dark nose and a rim of smokey eyeshadow, Wolfbane flicks his bright ears in her direction and smirks. The style of it seems both innocent and dangerous, wholly of his own making. He’s a creature who appears very secure in his confidence. 

“I noticed you from there.” The stallion admits, glancing above them for a second and then back to her. A meager explanation, but he assumes she’ll understand since he’s still adjusting both wings against his sides. “Are you here looking for something in particular? Maybe I could help.”

WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN

Over the wind and faint sigh of the grass, Wolfbane can hear the steady thunder of Lilliana’s heartbeat and it unnerves him for a second or two. Since his rebirth he’d become so overly sensitive to everything that at first, the change in her pulse worried him. His steady blue smile broke and then re-formed once he realized that the unnatural pulse echoing in his upturned ears was that way because of him. Bane didn’t mean to be so intrusive. It just came naturally now.

He relaxed, breathing deeply and smelling the pungent odor of poaceae, or meadow grass, and with one breath he could tell which species it fell under due to the stems flowering from the season. Their pollen tasted like sweet, heady hops on the back of his tongue, accentuated by the chestnut’s particular scent. She wasn’t a Beqanna native, if he had to bet perhaps four or five, and healthy but not pregnant like so many of the mares lingering in the meadow around them.

That final realization made Wolfbane swallow and grimace. “Whoops, fuck.” He thought, trying hard to reorient the focus of his elite senses away from odors and back to the sound of her faint, hummingbird-like heart throbbing. That was the problem with thinking you were ready to engage with strangers right after a major, life-changing experience. Sometimes overconfidence could be a hindrance rather than a help.

“Taking a leap of faith, huh?” He asked rhetorically. “This a good place for that.” Bane chuckled.

“If you’re not in a rush we could start from square one.” Came a suggestion, like they’d been old friends long before this moment and Bane didn’t expect them not to be afterwards. “I’m called Wolfbane. Just ‘Bane’ if you really get to know me.” Her companion smiled again.

WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN

Admittedly these two had more in common than first appearances would reveal. Wolfbane had been born and raised in a wholesome, loving family. Full of siblings both adopted, half, and full while his parents were a strong unit. Longclaw, his sire, had other mares but Bane can’t recall if he ever met them or what they looked like. That was the way his dad had always been. A man capable of keeping his identities and desires separate but equal, though as a boy he was always told that his dam, Femur, was his father’s alpha mare.

They’d lived in Tephra. The volcanic territory still existed and still remained a kingdom in its own right. Bane had left those sulphuric shores years ago, when it had still been an island and not part of the larger continent they called Beqanna. Never looked back, just kept flying and wandering until Arthas had found him and turned him into a Loessian.

Now that chapter was ending and he was still living while Arthas, his mother and father, perhaps even some of his siblings had passed away. He would never age, never get old or get tired. His youth and shining vigor would stay exactly the same as they were in this moment; a bright-eyed, robustly confident stallion that Lilliana tries so hard to unravel with her bluebell-colored eyes. Given time, she might just accomplish it.

She has plenty of it, apparently. “Lilli, the girl with lots of time. I like it.” Wolfbane admits in a few, short bursts of throaty laughter. He has a way of lifting his cheeks so that his hazel-green eyes narrow pleasantly, but his mouth never breaks apart to show teeth. It stays a firm, blue line that twists and glints in the play of light from the sun. “I live northwest of here in a place known as Taiga. Large forest, gigantic trees prone to mystery. Can’t miss it.”

One wing unfurls with a soft whooshing noise, pointing itself in the direction of the redwood territory. The long, narrow feathers seem to indicate an invisible path that could take her across the river and through the small forest on the horizon. “That way.” He jerks his chin aside, not exactly keen on looking away from her just yet. “A quiet place but not empty.” His ears flick aside; the faint whisper of a breezy current muffling the sound of his wing closing once more. “Are you the creative type, maybe? Pioneering?” Bane smiles, “I get the feeling you could bring a fresh perspective to my home… if you’re interested.”

WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN

He’d have to agree on the topic of Taiga and him being there. Intriguing was a mild way of putting it but somehow, when Lilli said it, sounded perfectly coined. He hadn’t foreseen that the woodsy, secretive place would eventually be his home. Never paid it much attention except the times he flew above it, on his way to Nerine. It even sounds funny, and though Lilliana is clearly teasing him he wonders, grinning, if she’ll ever understand how deeply true her assumption had been.
Intriguing.

Her narrow, auburn head almost glints in the overhead sunlight as she turns to look. In the span of time it takes Lilli to first glance there, then back at him, and then away again Wolfbane has already glanced over her from tip to tail. He doubts she would have noticed it, the way his eyes flicked in their sockets bizarrely fast, but he’s careful anyways to keep the same, perfect expression each time she turns back.

“Is that a defect? Or just some mutated sort of magic?” He jokes about her southbound inner compass. He spoke while he stepped forward into the grassy sea, eager to get the miles underway but not so eager that Lilliana couldn’t walk beside him if she wanted. The journey went faster with a curious companion, and Wolfbane was ready to admit that the slender, waif-like chestnut he’d met had a sensible mind. Made up for a lot of the disappointment he’d been experiencing lately, meeting new types.

There was no question that he was headed for the forest. The one that loomed like a dark curtain on the far side of the River. A few common trails were easily found the way they were going, since thousands of horses before them had established a route between kingdoms. For the first leg of this journey across the meadow, Bane kept quiet in hopes of Lillie having a few more questions.

WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN

Wolfbane couldn’t think of failures anymore. Or he really thought of them less as failures and more as ‘learning curves’. Hindsight opportunities that helped him to make decisions here and now so that he could shape a different future for himself. He can remember each twist and turn that led him to this life, the same way he remembers each correct turn along the path they’re walking down. Each time he made a terrible decision it turned him in a new direction, and each time he’d walked the path home again he’d made a mistaken left or right. Then again he always eventually got back on track.

These days he can journey on foot and probably close his eyes, and these days he can see the right option when faced with a difficult choice.

If one was persistent and strong-willed, every failure would turn itself into some sort of success. He believes this of himself and he believes it lives in Lilliana too, or else he wouldn’t be leading her past the low edges of the meadow and down to the sloping bank of the River. “The Golden Child? Me? Nahh.” He laughs back just as easily, though in a much deeper tone. The sandy river soil felt good under his joints the closer he got to bubbling water. “I was supposed to be,” He shrugged, not really sure how truthful that statement was, “but my father and I always butted heads.”

He sighed ruefully and shook his cresty, exposed mane as if laughing at something that might’ve once bothered him. Bygones are history though, and like the water he sank knee-deep into, quickly passing through fingers that tried to grasp it. “And I was not born in Taiga.” He grinned back at the chestnut mare.

He waited a few moments for the initial splash of water to become normal, continued to forge the low waters as steadily as he could manage, and then raised his voice before continuing, “I was born in a place called Tephra, which still exists. There’s an active volcano there.” He explained in case she ever wanted to ask other horses about it. “My dad was a guard there… sort of. Seems like forever ago now. He and my mother have long since died.” Wolfbane explained as he neared the opposite shore.

He said it in a way that seemed factual, not sad or forlorn. His parents death was something he’d come to terms with long ago. They were happy wherever their souls resided, he was sure of it. And he was sure they were together in that place as well. “What about you, 'black sheep'?” He prodded Lilliana gently with a smile. Bane had come to a complete stop in the water, dug himself in and was waiting for the slender female to walk past him up the shore so she could make her way safely.

He’d follow afterwards and make sure she wouldn’t slip. There’s even a moment when he stretches his neck and reaches his nose towards her shoulder, imagining the sensation of her copper skin gliding underneath his lips while he helped her along... but he stops himself short. Instead Wolfbane pulls himself together and withdraws, back to watching her with curious hazel eyes. “Where’d you come from, and how did you end up here?”

WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN