[private] Bloodfeather || Lilliana ||

[Wolfbane]

Wolfbane always knew which steps he’d follow in. There's never been any question about it: his father had been a warrior and so had his grandfather, meaning that he would do the same when adulthood came. He didn’t though. Bane left Tephra and wasn’t sure what he wanted, then he was handed an empty Kingdom and hungry, expectant faces who looked up to him. He spent his youth forging alliances and abandoning desires for a family and stability. He’d loved other mares before Lepis; nothing had ever come of those unrequited loves.

But he could feel himself shaking now, hearing Lilliana call back. For all his worldly knowledge and experience the shapeshifter felt stirred to an almost nervous, tangible excitement in her presence.
He loathed it.
He loved it.

Bane kept his gait casually heavy and his expression warmly neutral, still trailing Lilli from a short distance. He glanced around at the wood and watched her disappear between a cluster of trunks and smaller saplings, only to reappear again when thin slices of moonrays glided over her pelt. The night was illuminated through his eyes. Lilliana gleamed in a ring of silver every time her path led her into the light and Wolfbane followed, weaving closer and closer without saying much in response.

Eventually he found himself to one side of her, stretching his legs like a wildcat and slinking along as a predator would, totally at ease in this dark place. He kept his head turned and his eyes on her, irritatingly adept at maneuvering the leaf-covered trail without needing to look ahead, and the way he walked kept them apart comfortably. Now and then he’d duck and weave, disappearing himself before sliding out into her line of sight again.

“I do.” He surrendered at last, feeling the ground level out. Another pause as he considered something, then, “But I’m not so sure you’d like being the object of my conquest.” The shifter practically growled. Something in his voice, (maybe the way it sounded like a velvet warning) made the idea almost sound appealing.

“Lilli.” The way her said her name sounded like Wolfbane was suffering. He stepped from the cover of twisting shadows and out into the moonlight, stopping dead in his tracks underneath the gnarled branches of a completely bare oak. Though silent and still, his chest rose and fluttered. An early winter breeze moaned through the Forest, disturbing the dry leaves until they swirled around his gleaming fetlocks, the rest of his stripes gone silvery-black. Bane stared at Lilliana, “Are you afraid of me?”

Was Neverwhere right to hate me for wanting you? He needs to know.

@[lilliana]