[private] until the night turns

[Gale]

Gale this is going to break me clean in two -- this is going to bring me close to you Have Nashua and Noel ever seen a whale shark smile, the Cursed creature wonders? They has now - the image of a tawny monster flashing quickly from Gale - as well as one ofBolder as an hawk, and then as a red-mouthed young wolf. That final image he’d taken from Mazikeen, and the effort it had taken him was breathtakingly simple. The negativity that ripples out of the pair of Northerners fuels his ability. His host’s brother especially, the shared blood slipping into the shadows of his veins, and widening the grin on his face to manic proportions, his pupils gone so pinprick as to not even exist. This is marvelous. He hardly hears the exchange between Noel and Mazikeen, and his gaze turns back to his orange-eyed mate only while Nashua addresses her, before returning once more to the green-eyed king of the north. Gale’s eyes go green as well, Wyrm green, and when he blinks again they are blue lightning once again. As easy as blinking. He recalls the way he’d spun time backwards with Sickle, and realizes that if he did it now, it would hardly trouble him. Best to make sure it wouldn’t trouble him at all. That meant he could also continue this marvelous game of prodding at Gale’s elder brother, growing ever more powerful as he does. There are things that are laughably easy in this moment, after all. Things like the way a large branch appears beside them, seemingly anchored in midair. The moment before it does, the blazed blue face had regained all of Gale’s composure. “Bolder,” he says to the golden-haired sloth that hangs suspended from the branch. “Your parents have come to see how you’re doing. Your mother’s even said you can stay longer, if you’d like.” Your mother, he’d said, and the whole time his gaze has not moved away from Nashua. The others are little more than distractions to the way Gale focuses on the golden-marked king, his blue eyes glowing with anticipation. He wears the mask of sanity well, but the blackness lingers behind the lightning of his eyes, crazed and ominous as they meet Nashua’s. Will he try to take the boy? Will Noel demand that they leave again? Could he stoke this into a confrontation, into something that will sever Bolder more permanently from his family? Perhaps he could alter the boy’s soul the way he had Mazikeen’s, could meld it with his own and shape it into something dark and twisted. He’s getting ahead of himself, he knows. But it had still been such a nice image: Bolder, sharp-toothed and savage, the crimson gore of parricide splashed across his chest.

@Mazikeen