.:Bloodfeather:. (Rae)

[Wolfbane]

The wind and cold whip through his ears but he catches her throaty laugh, smirking at how she practically throws it over her golden-white shoulder to him. “This” was her home, apparently, which gave him pause to think about what type of home the female pegasus meant. He mused over everything the spotted mare hoped he wouldn’t - did she mean Beqanna? Taiga? - while watching her twist and float belly-up, admiring the obvious skill that was, well… more than skill alone.

She was hardly bothered by the impossibility of such flying. In fact, he suddenly realized she’d slowed down for him to catch up, and then the obviousness of her statement hit him. This was the sky; she meant to say that the sky was her home.

For a minute or two a thousand questions flood his mind, most prevalent of which was “how could such a thing be possible long-term?” A cursory glance told him that no, her wings weren’t more impressive than his own and no, they didn’t seem specially equipped for hovering or backwards flapping. She was barely moving them at all, actually.

Their breath accumulates in quick, white puffs of smoke while they fly, Bane’s wings steadily rolling through a heaviness all around them. Something about the air seemed crystallized and thick. Frozen. He could see the bowcurve of her mute-gold belly and how it connected in shadows to the fine legs trailing further below, both tangled with glinting webs of her tail that fluttered and curled past her heels.

There was a striking wildness about her, whoever she was, and when Wolfbane returned to gazing at her face he found blue eyes (the same color as the tips of her forelock) boldly staring back. The shape of his dark mask moved and shifted; his smirk grew to a warm grin. Unexpectedly a draft of temperate air hit him like solid stone, washing over his stiff feathers and giving him a bit of lift. The two drifted wider apart for a moment and then it was his turn to bark out a deep, solid laugh of his own.

“Brave or idiotic, take your pick.” He responds before she curls back around. I can’t really tell the difference these days. The stallion thought, his bristled mane shivering but holding its unique shape. Ahead, the previously obscured path cleared itself of winter clouds and some of the mystery surrounding his aerial companion began to wear off.

Coupled with her odd maneuvers, a sudden change in temperature and the uncharacteristic shift of the weather struck Wolfbane as red flags. He had reason enough to be wary: the perfect opportunity for a truly great flight against what could possibly be the most adept flyer he’d ever known? If he knew what was best for him he’d let her go and continue on to Nerine. The threat of Wyrm was still high on his list of priorities but … it was also hard to resist that cold blue, stretching endlessly out in front of them.

He watched her take lead, himself hovering on that precipice of what was right and what was enjoyable, and then he inhaled and shot ahead again, neck stretching flat as if his lips could reach out and touch the horizon itself. The worries of this morning shed like snakeskin and he felt free, every muscle along his back and hind ridgid with the effort of his flight.

He galloped with unrestrained glory across the heavens and soon caught her again, taking a dive that put him directly underneath the other pegasus. Pushing himself, nostrils quivering from his bellowing gasps of air, Bane tried holding the lead for a moment and then broke away by shooting up, directly up, before he was above her, inverted and stretched out so that he was upside down, staring at the gleaming curve of her haunches. He was falling backwards, looping in a great circle that would end with him trailing below and behind her once more.

The drake whooped, tucking his wings into his striped sides and corkscrewing, spiraling with reckless abandon. “C’mon!” He baited her, leveling out. “Be a good host, show me what you’ve got!”

Refugee of Loess : Member of the Southlands

Wolfbane

@[Rae]