chew it up and swallow it, any

[Wolfbane]

He’d warned him, so Vulgaris shouldn’t have been surprised when Wolfbane drew his head closer to his neck at the gray’s first step. It was a slight action, barely a movement at all but he was drawing in a deep breath and the curve of his chest had begun to fill with air. Against his own better nature Bane had fully intended to spit flame and watch the Viper burn, but when he flared his nostrils and opened his mouth, nothing spilled out.

No fire or brimstone, no excessive heat or painful yellow flame. Just a gasp and following that, an irritated narrowing of his hazel eyes. Well shit he thought, eyeing Vulgaris without twitching a muscle. The scaled horse took another step or two and Wolfbane tried again, exasperated to find that the second attempt was about as successful as the first one. Somehow, today turned out to be his former friends lucky day.

It didn’t matter, though. Once the larger stallion came close enough to possibly strike, Bane already had another thought in mind. He smirked, but the expression was wiped away and replaced with disbelief and then, utter disgust. This creature wasn’t Vulgaris. Not the one he knew.

Since when had a crown ever mattered? Was his former champion some dog now, Castile’s dog? A whipped and pathetic thing, quiet with his threats and asking for Wolfbane to tell him a story?

Suddenly the snake didn’t even seem worth his time anymore, talking like that. Bane should’ve ignored him, but he couldn’t.

He had just enough time to gather a wet lump of spit and cough the glob of phlegm into the dark face that had stupidly decided to stand so close, before Castile joined them. At such a short distance Wolfbane doubted the projectile would miss, but he flung his head forward with the action anyways just to be sure. Vulgaris deserved much, much worse.

Castile’s sarcastic remark goes unanswered by the striped Pegasus; he was about as necessary here as another stone in Bane’s hoof, but from what Vulgaris had said it seemed the viper was dependent on someone else telling him what to do. Fine - no sense in beating around the bush. “The problem is there’s an Asp in the nest we all call Loess. I’d like to formally challenge Vulgaris for the title of Champion.” He made his intent clear, turning to eye the spotted dragon-shifter.

“If you have someone else in mind, fine. Just know my name’s in the hat now.”

Refugee of Loess : Member of the Southlands

Wolfbane

@[vulgaris] @[Castile]