i've been running through the jungle, i've been running with the wolves to get to you
He had whispered to her, told her that he could turn her into greatness. She had instantly been intrigued, of course – what yearling doesn’t dream of great things, after all? Come to Loess, he had told her when he parted, disappearing into the mist as quickly as he had found her, alone in the Meadow.
Alone. Always alone, it seems. Her mother had told her to stay in the Playground if she was so much happier there, but she’s a year old now and she’s too young to play Playground games. It is for the new foals, this spring’s foals, not her. Just like Brink, her baby brother had found his way to the Playground as well, and it was there and as she was leaving that she had found baby Bereave, nervous and just as lonely as she had been at his age. He is like her, a shifter, and he perches in his sparrow form on her back as she walks. She is grateful to have someone to talk to – to have someone else to complain about Mother with – as they cross through the Meadow and then the Forest, finally stopping on the border to Loess.
If what Vulgaris had told her was true, he’s the king here by now, and she has nothing to fear as she crosses into the kingdom. She finds the snake-man easily enough, flanked by a girl not much older than her with constellation markings glowing on her skin. She settles on Vulgaris’s other side and looks out upon their new land, a smile crossing her face. This, this is what she is meant for. Vulgaris’s voice is deep and soothing as he speaks about marching on the Cove, his tone honeyed with conviction and enough to convince anyone that his way is the way.
There are naysayers, of course – namely the disgruntled gold-and-blue mare, and Brink fixes her with an icy blue stare. Bereave, sensing her agitation, flutters away to a nearby tree, too young and too shy to want to take part in the politics. “If they do not help us willingly,” she tells the once-queen, her form shifting to that of her dingo, “we have our ways to make them cooperate.” She bares her teeth at the women, then lets out a wolf-ish chuckle. She is hungry, so hungry, and the dog has grown to suit her new, near-adult body. “If you don’t like this Loess, you are welcome to leave it.”
