"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
05-05-2019, 09:20 PM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2019, 09:20 PM by Wolfbane.)
Winter bites, but not so hard this far south. Her fangs are still sharp and they rake against Wolfbane’s sides, trying hard to chill him through a thick coat and fatter sides now that the Plague seems to have finally passed. Walking stoically along a frost-dusted path he pulls his wings tight around himself like a white cape against the low winds, and trudges on brittle turf in search of a hot spring. Sure, he could stay at home atop his nest where source water bubbled and steamed and kept the ice off your wings, but it was his turn to take the triplets out for a rendevouz and personally, he needed the exercise.
Tiercel, firstborn of the three and shoving his way to the forefront of the pack, keeps his warm blue gaze trained on their destination and not on his other two siblings who follow behind. Gale and Eyas seem to be playing a made up game with each other; they take turns closing their eyes and giggling madly when one stumbles over a rock or bumps into a seasonally-bare bush. Their patriarch couldn’t possibly be prouder of the three and their distinct natures, even though his eyes linger on Gale because he is the smallest and most refined of the three.
“Eyas, Gale, come on and keep up.” His robust, familiar voice encourages them. The two fledglings mind him and patter forward on long legs, keeping their eldest triplet to one far side of Wolfbane. “Can Myrrah come dad?” Eyas asks, mentioning the ‘imaginary’ friend she’d created and insisted accompany them like an invisible quadruplet. Peering down into her wide, hopeful face her father sighs a breath of white smoke. “Only if you’re on your best behavior.” He tells her firmly.
She straightens up… until Gale reaches across to tug her mane and they explode into a fit of high-pitched laughter again.
Troublesome, he thinks of them both, glancing aside at Tiercel and his aggravated expression, but not newborn going on one hundred like this one.
Nearing his wits end, the group crests a small embankment and there they pause, eyeing a billowing cloud of fog that drifts up from a winding stream. “There it is -” Wolfbane hardly spits out before the three are racing towards the water, “Tiercel make sure they dip a hoof in first!” He commands the eldest triplet, and then laughs himself before sliding down to join them.
Only he pauses.
A sound from nearby stops him, followed by the dark flicker of movement.
Refugee of Loess : Member of the Southlands
Wolfbane
@[vulgaris] I thought they could have a brounion and also a kiddo play-date?
@[kahzie] I borrowed Gale
" i could be ugly in loving you. filthy and soft-mouthed. wolf-tongued and terrible.
i could carry my heart in my mouth like a bird dog to you, so gently i wouldn’t leave a mark. "
Chronos meets him at the borders of Loess and follows him close as a shadow as Vulgaris makes his way deeper into Loess. The serpent smells like Tephra, like arguments and disappointment. He can’t bring himself to look down at the young boy and instead keeps his eyes trained on the hot springs nearby. His son opens his mouth to ask where he’s been but he decides against it and continues to trail along in silence. The flat line of his mouth doesn’t seem particularly eager to share any of his experience just yet.
He spots the blue and yellow once-king ahead but he doesn’t alter his path or attempt to slow down in any way. It’s time to bury the hatchet and focus on the more important things that the members of Loess must face as one. Chronos rushes ahead at the sound of children playing and, laughing as his long legs carry him to the spring’s edge. He glances over his lean red shoulder for some sign of approval, to which his father nods, before diving in with a splash. Despite his gloomy aura, Vulgaris smiles faintly to see the younger generation all having fun.
He comes to a stop beside Wolfbane with a slow sigh. How to begin?
At the beginning, he supposes.
“I’m sorry for our argument before. A cruel magician tangled up my memories and made me forget who I was. I knew I couldn’t honor the crown the way you would want, especially after what I did, so I had to leave,” he says, his gaze still focused on the children playing. “You are my friend and my brother, now and always.”
He pauses, momentarily choking on the next order of business. It still doesn’t feel real to have Leliana as an enemy but he cannot take back his wife from who she has become. His sad green eyes finally find Wolfbane’s face, brows furrowed in pain both real and imagined.
“Leliana has taken control of Tephra. She means to destroy us all with her new strength.”
His voice is low enough that their sons and daughters will not hear. They both know that Vulgaris will not fight against the home he swore to defend, that he will protect them all until there is nothing left of him to right. He supposes the least he could do is die for them after all the crimes he’s committed against them.
“I’m sending Chronos and Larke to the east where they’ll be safe. Linnea wants to go west to her mother, but Adna and Sabbath are adamant on staying here with us.”
His voice breaks around his eldest daughters’ names. The idea of them standing against their mother drives him mad but they’ve grown too stubborn to command. He swallows hard and looks back at Chronos and the triplets, forcing a soft smile onto his face to keep from rousing their suspicions.
This time, Wolfbane can’t seem to muster the energy to be outwardly vicious like he’d been a few months ago. He’s still ticked off, but even that emotion deflates once a leggy bay colt breaks from Vulgaris’ side to join his own children. His gaze trails after the boy but doesn’t follow him to the spring; one of his ears tilts aside instead and meanwhile, Wolfbane chooses to visibly relax despite the idiosyncrasy of always stirring shit. Through all of their petty disagreements, it’s hard to entirely push out someone who often acts just like you.
But Bane is due for a pleasant surprise, today.
Head rising, a bit of shock widening his hazel eyes, the oddly-striped stallion drinks in the brief explanation Vulgaris offers and shifts his accusatory stance to one that seems hesitant yet grateful. “I would’ve really hated having my face torn off, brother.” He speaks after a minute, relieved he could admit (in his own way) that coming to blows with the Viper wasn’t exactly the event of a lifetime for him. He knew good and well what the Champion of Loess was capable of, couldn’t complain that the battle was probably off the table now, and felt without words that Vulgaris understood he’d wanted it due to that vindictive side of himself - not greed or ego.
When his friend speaks again, he turns to view Wolfbane with a look of such clear-cut agony that against all odds, Bane seems to know who it concerns before the fanged stallion even opens his mouth. The scaled horse had acted similarly once before, so his winged companion wipes away any trace of humor from his own face before focusing intently on Vulgaris.
“What?” Bane huffs quietly, confusion rippling across his mask, “I feel like I’m missing something… why would she want Loess to suffer?”
He doesn’t know, of course. Castile himself had been closed off to the husband of his distant niece. When Wolfbane had prodded for information over how the dragon came to the throne, (hoping to aid rather than irritate) the pied stallion had been short and non-informative. Castile had made it obvious then that despite their familial ties, he and Bane were strangers.
“The wife and I had plans on moving north, taking root and possibly control of Taiga to broaden the borders. Heartfire is my grandmother, after all.” The trojanesque male explains numbly, shifting a guarded face towards the children who look over and see only what the two fathers want them to see. “This… changes things.”
Tilting his multihued face aside, Wolfbane glances towards Vulgaris with determination, asking swiftly “You said "new" strength?”
05-14-2019, 12:56 AM (This post was last modified: 05-14-2019, 12:57 AM by litotes.)
boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
One could say that every bold act Litotes has made comes to a full circle when he walks into Loess once again. There is talk of war, the same kind of whispers that brought him here in the first place - talk that reminds him of the steal he made that kicked the East’s turmoil into gear. And, yes, he considers all of it the East’s turmoil . . . considering they absolutely caused it. Nevermind Loess’ declaration - treating a council member trying to protect his home as a petulant child does not bode well for future diplomatic relations.
So, when he steps across the border to refresh his mind and perhaps seek out Castile, he cannot help but feel as if his tiny action’s true repercussions are finally coming to light. If it is blood they want, he thinks, it is blood they will have. Those that made him suffer will crumble.
Loess backed themselves into a war, but Lie cannot be bothered to logic out why he should not feel any allegiance to them anymore. Not that he feels truly loyal to anyone but his family, just that they offered him strength and family in the wayward method misfits have. They gave him hope (albeit tainted hope) when he had none. For that, he will always owe them. He trusts that Castile knows this.
Happening upon Vulgaris and Wolfbane is certainly unplanned but comes as a pleasant surprise nonetheless. He manages to catch the tail end of their conversation before fully approaching them. Vulgaris is familiar but not like Wolfbane is, so Lie takes a very brief second to size the snake up. Formidable, he concludes.
“Wolfbane, Vulgaris,” he interupts, dipping his head in an agreeable hello. “I have heard the talk of war.” His sentence is a just murmur, quiet and serious. He realizes how quickly the tension has built, how Castile will more than likely defy Leliana’s wishes; he realizes he has to act now if he wishes to act in his best interests.
“The East will not support you, that much I am certain of - and I am a traitor to their sanctuary crown for backing you. Pangea is with Loess entirely.”
and if i fall would you know that to do? and if i'm caught up would you stay?