05-15-2019, 07:18 AM
A step to the side has her wing touching Wolfbane’s, tucked just slightly beneath his in a way that the difference in their height allows. It is a familiar sensation, and a comforting one, though not quite affectionate enough to be considered impolite in company. Not that that Lepis minds, at least not with Noah. Their five children are rather incriminating evidence of the fondness between the pair of blue and gold pegasi.
Noah mentions the winter and Lepis nods – that would slow the flowers. The season is less harsh farther south, she remembers, but the grasslands also lack the warm springs of Loess. The dun mare glances down at the trail of flowers behind Noah’s feet and wonders how long they will stay. Her husband skirts mention of the Taiga, somewhat more cautious than a confident Lepis might have been and she is once again reminded of how balanced they are. She is smiling up at him, and about to propose a trip south in the late spring, when the world shifts.
At first she thinks the Plague has returned – this is not so different than the quiver in the world when it had healed.
Had their safety only been a lull?
Where are her children?
Lepis is in the air only a moment behind Wolfbane, and it is clear even from this limited height that this is no Plague. It – whatever it is, remains solely within the hilly kingdom. An attack, she is certain, and hisses “Tephra,” just as the distant cry of a small and familiar voices reaches her ears.
“Tiercel,” she says at the same time as her husband, their blue-green eyes meeting as she recognizes the same fear there that she feels in her own heart. The roar of a furious dragon drowns out what she’d meant to say after, and she has time only to seek out Noah with sorrow in her face before she banks south, determined to find her youngest child.
@[Noah]
@[Wolfbane]
Noah mentions the winter and Lepis nods – that would slow the flowers. The season is less harsh farther south, she remembers, but the grasslands also lack the warm springs of Loess. The dun mare glances down at the trail of flowers behind Noah’s feet and wonders how long they will stay. Her husband skirts mention of the Taiga, somewhat more cautious than a confident Lepis might have been and she is once again reminded of how balanced they are. She is smiling up at him, and about to propose a trip south in the late spring, when the world shifts.
At first she thinks the Plague has returned – this is not so different than the quiver in the world when it had healed.
Had their safety only been a lull?
Where are her children?
Lepis is in the air only a moment behind Wolfbane, and it is clear even from this limited height that this is no Plague. It – whatever it is, remains solely within the hilly kingdom. An attack, she is certain, and hisses “Tephra,” just as the distant cry of a small and familiar voices reaches her ears.
“Tiercel,” she says at the same time as her husband, their blue-green eyes meeting as she recognizes the same fear there that she feels in her own heart. The roar of a furious dragon drowns out what she’d meant to say after, and she has time only to seek out Noah with sorrow in her face before she banks south, determined to find her youngest child.
@[Noah]
@[Wolfbane]
