He’d not expected Neverwhere to survive their encounter, much less produce offspring from it, but where there’s a will there always seems to be a way, and eventually the news of Nerine’s Queen disappearing had quickly been replaced (by his insider informant) with news of her possible survival. Ghaul’s visit to the rocky Kingdom had set his nerves on edge, and Wolfbane had left as soon as he possibly could to gauge the situation for himself. Perhaps, if he were quick enough, he could remedy the mistake he’d made in leaving it all behind to chance.

Under the cover of night he fled Pangea, crawling and skimming his way past the Hyaline mountain range. He took no rest; it was unnecessary since he’d been well-fed and rested in the barren lands. There was only the drive of acute curiosity and anxious disappointment to fuel him, but both lit a flame under his ass and kept him steadily moving northward until day broke and the kingswood loomed ahead in all its dark, mysterious wonder. Taiga breathed in the light surrounding it and exhaled shadows and fog, which only helped the manipulator on his journey for the truth.

And, lucky him, the truth was hindered by her own foal, leaving their scent everywhere. He came across it with such a shock that for a moment, Bane was rendered completely motionless. He stared at the bark and the ferns around him, dripping with fresh spring dew, and marveled at the scent of what he and Neverwhere had created out of such a violent interaction. Without the need of seeing them at all, he knew immediately that she’d whelped him a son, and that the colt was healthy. “Incredible.” He whispered breathily. Magnificent, Lupei thought pleasantly.

The curse was eager to find a new host, as madness quickly befell the horse it afflicted in its final stages, and here the chances of finding that host had been expanded overnight. Perhaps… perhaps he need not return to Loess at all, then? He knew what waited for him there, but the longing to see what foal he and Lepis had produced suddenly waned with this new information. He must find the boy - quickly.

Bane shifted, rising up from the hazy forest floor in a flurry of activity as his legs and body grew smaller. His wings adjusted likewise, and his face contorted itself into that of a falcon. A shimmer of light echoed over his skin, and the transformation was complete: he looked exactly like Turul, Aten’s companion animal that he’d seen often, and the indistinguishable lookalike flapped a moment or two before rising and shooting off into the wood after Never and their foal. Inevitably, he located them where the pair had stopped for a minute’s rest, and he settled noisily onto a thick bough that overstretched the two horses.

Hearing the disturbance, or possibly just feeling the pressure of Wolfbane’s intense, unnatural stare, Neverwhere’s head rose and her teeth snapped together in warning. If he could've, Bane would have smiled, but he only rose and swooped down from the branch to land on one much more close. There he waited, shuffling his curved talons and ruffling his feathers before bobbing his little head in a curious fashion.

Their colt (what a strange thing to think!) was blessedly asleep, ignorant to the world and his coming into it as Wolfbane was to Neverwhere’s agitation. He’d wanted her dead in the first place, and the fact that she’d survived the mauling and given birth to a son afterwards was the only reason she was left standing undisturbed right now, even if her wicked bite roused the side of him that he felt very little control over. Bane breathed as deeply as he could manage for a bird and clenched onto his branch until he knew he’d leave deep gouges. As badly as he wanted to take a claw or two to her eyes, he’d have to bear it for a moment longer if he wanted a clear and undisturbed view of the dappled boy.

The little body twitched, and his father marveled at the golden colors playing over his skin from the movement. Underneath the earthy tint of his coat, there were intricate ringlets of molten light that shimmered like his own blue markings. His mane and tail were pale - paler than the twins Lilliana had bore him - but he suspected both might darken with time. His favorite, though, were the fine set of wings (real ones, not the useless spots shaped like wings that Never wore around) that draped so delicately over his back.

Bane had always been the prideful sort when it came to his brood, and the source of the pride was in his legacy of creating a near army of pegasi that would fill the heavens with all sorts of brilliant colors. This colt seemed no different; his lineage would never be shrouded in uncertain doubt.

“If he hadn’t, you and Lepis would’ve been quick to follow him.” The threatening voice erupted suddenly out of the bird, startled into speech by Never’s whispered confession. How dare she? Had those two harpy’s plotted together, then? “Plotted against you, yes,” Wyrm encouraged him, riling the falcon through twisted thoughts, “as if it were their place, or their right.”

The feathers along his back stuck out at nearly every angle. He looked three times his normal size, and the shade of his round pupils had darkened to bloodred.

“Neverwhere.” Wolfbane hissed through his beak, “I see you refuse to learn from your mistakes.”

Neverwhere reminds me of someone, The regal-looking falcon thought, glancing down at her ugly pink sneer from above. She was so defiant and sure of herself, willing to push boundaries and whatever lengths it took to try and make him suffer. To some horses her temperament appeared as valiant. To Wolfbane, Never was reckless. She flashed the wild shifter a look that could kill and turned, violently, back to their colt to snap him up in her teeth.

Wolfbane gripped his perch and refused to move, refused to blink. He watched her pick the helpless youngling up and didn’t twitch at all when their son screeched out in pain. Instead he witnessed how the young colt’s eyes flew open, took his time to memorize the fear and terror written out over their baby’s confused face, and cemented the dull popping noise of the colt's wing being dislocated from his shoulder forever in his thoughts. He focused, and when Queen Neverwhere of Nerine had finished her tantrum and thrown the young horse into the dirt again, he listened while she threatened him.

Just a weak imitation of Heartfire. Wyrm’s thoughts drifted lazily through wolfbane’s mind, and the gyrfalcon blinked. He titled his speckled head and asked her, “What’s the point in a name?” Bane shrugged. If she was going to kill it, Neverwhere was certainly taking her time about it. She divided herself into mirror triplets, three versions of the same mare, all surrounding the foal either as an intimidation tactic or (as the shape-shifter liked to think) added protection. But nothing happened. She didn't smash their son's head into a pulp, or try to torture him a bit more. She just... stood there. Far off a bird’s cry rang through the trees, and the whitish falcon shuffled a few steps.

“You’re not fit to mother. A shame,” He paused, frowning down where the golden-dappled colt whimpered, “he’s incredible for surviving so much.”

“But you’re more a threat to him than I am.” He sighed, shrugging both wings. He knew that soon enough Never would have her way and he’d be stuck in a sticky situation, and more than ever Wolfbane wanted to be able to recall the exact moment Neverwhere went from a Queen to a murderer.