One foot toward the gallows || Breckin, Vulgaris ||

[Wolfbane]

WOLFBANE

Rushed as he would prefer to be, the arrival of Rey on Loessian borders had held up the striped Lord for a few hours before he could begin the true flight north. “No matter,” He thinks, after the strange mare had ended their brief encounter without goodbyes, “at this rate if Vulgaris intends to show, we’ll arrive at nearly the same time.” And those had been his parting thoughts before, at last, he’d put the kingdom of hills and wonders behind him to soar onward to Nerine - the kingdom he hoped would soon be a part of his past.

Breckin couldn’t be blamed for the feeling, neither does he pin the lingering awkwardness on Wishbone while his spread wings revel in the feeling of a warm zephyr giving them lift. It was only something inside himself he’d yet to bury, though he intends to lay those haunting memories to rest by coming here and shifting focus to Dovev simultaneously. There was no better salve than purpose.

As the lingering whitecaps of Hyaline’s mountains begin to grow small in his peripheral vision, Wolfbane dips below the cover of heavy clouds and sheds his power of invisibility, mapping out a good landing strip while running a busy tongue over the empty space where his fangs had once been. It felt odd to miss something so superficial, (though he felt as if somehow they were a final link to his family of shifters) but it had been his choice to give them up … Rey needed them even if she hadn’t wanted them, and what she’d given to him in return was altogether a much more powerful gift.

The drake pushes his emotions aside, circling over the southernmost border of Nerine before diving like an osprey to the ground, where he brakes in a mighty show of aerial prowess before long-trotting down onto the sea grass. His shimmering, blue hooves tear crescents of sod up when he jerks to a halt, sweat shadowing his belly and neck while a lather of foam builds behind his flared nostrils. He felt unnaturally prime, despite the loss of his unique teeth, and began to glance around for sight or sound of Vulgaris while he waited.

Soon enough either the viper or an inhabitant would come to intercept him, so in the meantime he busies himself with food, taking rest where he could find it during this hectic period of change.

|| The Pirate Lord of Loess ||

@[Breckin] @[vulgaris] Vanilla if you’re reading this, I fully expect Leilan to crash this thread; everyone else this has been adjusted to reflect present time, a.k.a no-fangs Bane