"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
Ahh, the look on Brennen’s face when his magic failed in keeping Wolfbane from taking @[Jesper]… now that was a look a horse like himself could savor all the way back to Loess. Wolfbane and all his ego combined felt smug just recalling the shock registering in the other Champion’s eyes, then the hate. It burned fiercely, and as a father himself Wolfbane could easily relate to it. That kind of hate drove a stallion to extraordinary lengths. “Filthy magician.” Bane’s thoughts seethed on the journey back; he thought of his captive - Jesper, and remembered the clash of dragons screaming above a bright and burning volcano.
“No resting. No running.” Those were his two rules for the vague journey south, and when he strode through the familiar trails of Taiga the wide green ferns brush tenderly over his knees, sometimes to Bane’s shoulder’s, or up to his fawn-brown chest. The air was thick and humid, the kind you could taste on your tongue and in your nose when you breathed.
Here he was, herding some northern serf with a title back to Loess like a bull fat for the feast, and the ones who’d claimed to be Jesper’s lifeline of support had used him as a bargaining chip to keep Nerine safe and sound. “They’re always blind to the truth of it. Loyalty… pha!” Wolfbane thought just like an old, withered cretin. His grin of satisfaction faded away and he pushed forward, lengthening his already quick stride to move himself on through Loess and hopefully closer to the borders-between-lands as early as nightfall. Unfortunately for him, his walking companion was no Lilliana, nor was Jesper a pegasus. Wolfbane had to settle for walking on hoof and he did it begrudgingly, not even bothering to have wings at all if it made the traveling quicker.
He wasn’t concerned with the thought of whether @[Lepis] or @[Castile] would recognize him as a pangare bay horse without his wings. Bane had the self-same mane that grew down the length of his back, and the long white tail. He had bright, emerald eyes and a domineering shadow across his face that gave him a permanent scowl. He had Jesper. They would know.
Just like he'd know the sound and smell of their familiar approach. Soon he appeared again at the mouth of a winding canyon, after corralling the quarry into a dead-end. The red walls of the Loessian prison would be a nice touch, Bane thought as he stood waiting idly, “just high enough to give a flightless horse the right amount of despair.”
For this thread: Sex: M ◉ Appearance: Pangare Bay ◉ Mood: Indifferent
The concept of being a pawn in Beqanna's scheme is not new to Jesper. He fully respects the land he walks upon and, is well aware of his place in the hierarchy of things. Having said that, when he gets the call that he has been stolen from his home, the first emotion that hits him is absolute dread. He has been down this road before, except, last time he volunteered. Look where that got him. Last time, he did not have as much to lose. Now, he had a family and, a purpose. The black steed swallows but a large lump remains at the back of his throat. He knows he must obey the law of the land. There is no time to bid farewell to Camomila or Jesla. They would surely figure things out on their own. Camomila is perfectly capable of keeping everything and everyone in order. As of his last tally, Leilan should still be around. Well, he can only hope that is the case.
Begrudgingly, Jesper shifts into motion. His bronze-tipped ears flatten to his poll as his limbs begin to shuffle towards the one calling his name. When icy blue gaze lands upon the golden brown male named Wolfbane, the fox-shifter cannot help but wonder if this is pay back for his cold demeanor towards Lepis when she came to visit. He did mean to visit Taiga as he told her. Time just got away from him. If this is pay-back, they are being a bit dramatic, don't you think?
"No resting. No running."The rules are simple enough. Though, a bit odd given they are only traveling one territory south. Well, that is what Jesper thinks until Wolfbane is driving him beyond the borders of Taiga. I really have lost touch with current events, haven't I? mused the male to himself. He obeys and continues strolling along ahead of the smug male. With each step, the air grows heavier; more dense with moisture. His nostrils widen to maximize the oxygen reaching his lungs, both because the air is thicker and, because of the exertion thus far.
For a moment, Jesper tenses at the thought of being brought to Sylva. Obviously, Wolfbane did not call Taiga home anymore. What if he took over Sylva, alongside Lepis, to enact the same torture Lepis endured to any residents? That is the one place he could not face. To his relief, Wolfbane directs Jesper due south towards Loess. The black wonders if politics had changed there also. Last he knew, Castile led the charge. He always thought of Castile as an ally of sorts. I mean, only as much as you can trust a dragon who isn't your brother (Leilan is an anomaly for his species). So, did Castile orchestrate this whole thing? Or, had Wolfbane and Lepis pushed him off of his throne and taken control? At this point, Jesper could not even be sure that Wolfbane and Lepis are still a thing. He chooses to ignore the golden brown's remark. His facial expression betrays no emotion. His gaze is a cool blue and his rubbery lips form a straight line from corner to corner.
He sighs as they cross the border into the knolled land and push on. It is only until he faces a rocky dead-end that Wolfbane applies the brakes. Jesper comes to a halt as well. It is now that he realizes how much he hates those little blood-sucking insects. His tail alternates between striking his left flank and his right flank. His bronze-tipped lobes resolve to a position that is neither airplane wings or, buried under his mane. As they stand here, waiting for whatever awaits him, Jesper shakes his poll every few breaths to drive away the cloud of gnats. He says nothing to Wolfbane. There is no need. Let's see how Loess treats her captives.
again you’re gone, off on a different path than mine i'm left behind wondering if i should follow
Alcinder’s kidnapping and the interrupted attempt at her own capture has put Lepis on edge. Such is the life of one who embraces – or perhaps more accurately: allows – chaos, and the bed she cannot sleep in is one of her own making. Weariness is always at the edge of her awareness, and yet she rests fitfully and infrequently, torn from sleep by night terrors or the cold clench of dread. There are lines in her golden face, and dark hollows beneath her blue-grey eyes. The thrum of vivacity that such a life had given her in her youth is absent, but she is not yet ready to declare this method a failure.
She is conversing with Castile, nearly ready to suggest what has been brewing in her mind since she had learned of the taking of Oceane’s son. She pauses, mouth half open to speak, and takes another – deeper – breath.
“He’s done it,” she says aloud, aware that the words will mean little to Castile without context. But she knows the scent of the fox-shifting Jesper despite having met him only once before. He’d promised to come visit Taiga in the summer, but the summer had come and gone. And come and gone, and she is a little amused that he is finally here the third summer after his proposed visit. He comes to Loess, rather than Taiga, but she will take what she gets. “Let’s go,” she adds, turning from the dragon king and toward the canyon she’d suggested to Tipper as a holding place for captives. There’s a cool spring, and the trees there provide fruit and forage as well as shade.
Expecting to see a grey unicorn with a teal mane, she is instead surprised to find a mealy bay stallion.
Surprised, and then a great many other emotions as well.
“Tell me you weren’t Tipper, too.” Lepis says, her voice as flat as her expression, neglecting to greet the black stallion at all. Her blue-grey gaze remains fixed on Wolfbane, and she tries and fails to swallow down the knot of emotion that is slowly rising in her chest. That she is so still is a sign of it, as is the thought she sends only to him. [Tell me you weren’t Gale.]
LEPIS i’m the one who sees you home-- but now i’m lost in the woods and i don’t know what path you are on
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Magic weaves into Castile’s veins, adding permanency to his body’s shift. In front of Lepis, his equine body sheds away. The hair falls only to be replaced by hardened scales, his hooves elongating into talons. It’s a seamless shift, no matter the drastic alterations.
Curious, Castile’s eyes cast down to Lepis in anticipation of her reaction, but she beckons him with an affirmative statement that piques his interest.
Underneath him, the ground trembles with his every step. There’s no sense to fly, not when Lepis’ company remains earthbound and grounded. Anger, ever present, rises in his throat but Castile says nothing yet as his thoughts race between hunger and recent events. Losing grip of himself, he finds himself more often drawn to sating his primal needs instead of handling the political avenues of his role as King.
Soon, this will end, and I will be back.
(No, there is no end in sight)
In his wake, the rocky soil is ragged and unsettled by his claws ripping into it, his weight crushing shrubs along the way; but Castile’s eyes are far too steadily trained on what lies ahead of him. With a deep inhalation, he notes Jesper’s arrival. A jagged grin peels back his lips, his mismatched eyes bright with foul mischief as he and Lepis reach their newest prisoner. Tucked at his sides, his wings just barely shuffle while Castile comfortably positions himself among them. A wave of arrogance washes across him, internalized so that nothing reads across his reptilian face. Of course, he also wants Brennen to be among them, but how the tides have changed and prevented their full success. Alas, the leader of the frosted island will suffice for now.
”Jesper,” his voice rolls like thunder, reverberating through each of them as Castile lowers his head to nearly level with his peers. But Lepis’ attention fixes on the bay stallion, not at all on their visitor. For a fleeting moment, Castile acknowledges the escort, noting traces of familiarity in his scent, but not at all in appearance. He would say something, but the cleric is already addressing him, her voice flattened by emotions that swirl inside her. Seizing the opportunity, Castile’s head turns to face the foreigner while battling his inner instincts to hunt. ”Welcome,” he says in bemusement, knowing well that Jesper is not keen on being – or staying – here in Loess.
A rotten corpse attracts the hungry, and like flies to the feast Lepis and Castile are soon to join the duo of stallions where they wait on the outskirts of Loess territory. @[Jesper], to his credit, keeps quiet and collected the entire trip home, never speaking or questioning - only watching through hooded eyes as the trees shrank and the terrain changed. Now the stale wind burnt Wolfbane’s cheeks and stank of creosote, while the dust under Castile’s dragon body stirred itself into a hazy red cloud around them. “Would you look at him? By the Gods,” Bane’s thoughts couldn’t center on the scenery or even Lepis, though he registered her initial confusion.
He’s totally fixated on Castile, looming above the rest of the horses gathered and hissing Jesper’s name between rows of predator’s teeth.
“Why?” The whole of him was curious to know, and Wolfbane’s expression relays this. Why was he fully dragon? Why walk here or anywhere at all, and the fuck was Castile doing it for? Intimidation? Because of Wolfbane?
“Hellfire Lepis -” The pangare-colored stallion spit out, interrupted by her (correct) assumption of his disguise and some (incorrect) nonsense about Gale. “- stop thinking, could you? It’s annoying enough when you do it out loud.” Her previous mate growled, both ears flicking back as his skin faded from brown to butter yellow and the familiar, glittering blue markings appeared again. Wolfbane shook out his mane with the subtly powerful twist of his thick neck and shuffled his hooves through the dusty clay as his bones clicked together in their proper dimensions. A second or two was all it had taken; he grinned up at Castile.
“No. You’re welcome.” He emphasized, oozing pure conceit. “I’ll have you know it was extremely dangerous work, which is why I’m assuming Lepis chucked it off onto the first nobody she could find instead of doing it herself.” He sighed, “So I expect equal compensation.”
For this thread: Sex: M ◉ Appearance: Normal ◉ Mood: Indifferent
@[Lepis] is the first to arrive. She makes no attempt to greet Jesper and, he could care less. Poll lowers to bring whiskered muzzle down to the abundant forage. Every land grows more grasses than the Isle, if he is being honest but, he had been unaware of the rumble in his barrel that arose after their earlier trek. Stained dentition grasp the tender, lush blades and crop them close to the ground. The ebony stag takes a moment to savor the sweetness that he had long since tasted. Bronze-tipped lobes focus on the words that slip through the gold lady's navy pointed lips. She greets Wolfbane, in her own way and then, awaits for his escort's response.
@[Castile] is close behind her. He makes an effort to acknowledge him and, in return, the black stallion lifts his icy blue gaze to meet the other male's eyes. His mandible continues to grind his latest selection of grasses and, he offers a soft smile as the dragon shifter "welcomes" him to the Southern kingdom.
Jesper keeps his silence but, his gaze follows the conversation back to the pangare-hued @[Wolfbane]. His tone with Lepis suggests an old familiarity, a banter but, lacking in current affection. The fox-shifter lowers his head to grab another bite while he continues to study the dynamic between the trio. It seemed as though Castile still stands as the head of household but, Lepis is acting like the neck. Her energy seems to hold a power over the two males, a power that Jesper had not yet experienced. Perhaps, she did not think him worthy. Either way, he grazes, silently, while the trio stand between him and the rest of the land. He would explore in his own time but, there is no need to leave this patch of lush greens and entertainingly dynamic conversation.
![[Image: Wolfbane2.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/601918740845559818/696502662816071770/Wolfbane2.png)
![[Image: 3bCHvj.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/3bCHvj.png)
Jesper
