05-26-2020, 09:16 PM
There may not be many who would tell a dragon to shove off, but surely Neverwhere is one of them, if she found a good enough reason to do it. However, even had she been home these past few months to find his ragged band, she would never have made Leilan or his gang of raiders return to their barren island. Her understanding and faith in politics may be poor, but she would not chase off the subjects of her own kingdom from food their territory could not provide. Perhaps it would have been better to go and offer and show support, but she finds she hates these little empty gestures that being Queen demand of her, and she has stagnated under the heavy mantle.
She had been so sure Heartfire would return and take it back – though the roan had also done little that would help them where they stand now, and at the very least, Neverwhere’s scowls and sarcasm had given no piece of land away to those that would claim it. She had out-waited them all and then the tumbling rockfall of Beqanna had whipped them up into another of its own special sort of disasters. The kingdom and the territories fall into disarray, yet they are whole. Heartfire had been right about that, at least.
Her eyes look for the colt as she calls, but they fall on an unusual patch of darkness and it troubles her briefly. No-one she remembers from before Wolfbane came as Ghaul had that little trick, but she has seen something similar once before. Years ago, a cremello stallion – she shakes her head then gathers the colt close, pushing him slightly ahead as she watches. The dusky shadows begins to melt and she stamps a foreleg in warning to whoever lay within, short ears flat and every line of her face drawn tight and angry.
And when it is Leilan’s voice that cuts through the lowered shield of darkness, there is only the faintest softening, her ears lift but remain back, she turns away from him with a hmph.
“You are too old to need me to explain where foals come from, Leilan.” But he is approaching and still talking and with the breath hissing from her nostrils she snakes her head low again and snaps at the air for him to stop where he is, “I have not, and if you come any closer, you’ll feel them.”
She had been so sure Heartfire would return and take it back – though the roan had also done little that would help them where they stand now, and at the very least, Neverwhere’s scowls and sarcasm had given no piece of land away to those that would claim it. She had out-waited them all and then the tumbling rockfall of Beqanna had whipped them up into another of its own special sort of disasters. The kingdom and the territories fall into disarray, yet they are whole. Heartfire had been right about that, at least.
Her eyes look for the colt as she calls, but they fall on an unusual patch of darkness and it troubles her briefly. No-one she remembers from before Wolfbane came as Ghaul had that little trick, but she has seen something similar once before. Years ago, a cremello stallion – she shakes her head then gathers the colt close, pushing him slightly ahead as she watches. The dusky shadows begins to melt and she stamps a foreleg in warning to whoever lay within, short ears flat and every line of her face drawn tight and angry.
And when it is Leilan’s voice that cuts through the lowered shield of darkness, there is only the faintest softening, her ears lift but remain back, she turns away from him with a hmph.
“You are too old to need me to explain where foals come from, Leilan.” But he is approaching and still talking and with the breath hissing from her nostrils she snakes her head low again and snaps at the air for him to stop where he is, “I have not, and if you come any closer, you’ll feel them.”
@[Leilan]
