HELLBANE
I've all but just forgotten-
There’s so many now that Hellbane isn’t really sure what woodwork they’re crawling out of. He even goes as far as to throw his head over his shoulder to glance behind himself, on the offhand chance that someone would spring up out of thin air. But no one does, so he ends up turning back just in time to see the finely-made mare hesitantly step into the gathering. So the colt did have a mother, and her name was Maus. “No apology necessary, I was a colt once too.” He offers in a way of understanding. Pitch seems very unaware of the fear so thinly veiled in his dam’s eyes, or if he is, he simply doesn’t care. Hellbane isn’t angry with the little touch, or even the declaration that would have put him off.
Who wouldn’t want to be different? But the clash of voices seems to drown out everything else now. A spotted stallion joins them, attentions given to the single mare who (from any outsiders reasonable point of view) currently stands outnumbered, while the palomino goes on about the necessary evils of this new world. Mortal seems to be on the same page with Hellbane, dark eyes darting every now and then to the newcomers. It all seems too confusing and rather strange, that they should come together in a fashion that even Hellbane himself wouldn’t think up, yet they're here and polite rumblings won’t get them anywhere further.
Hellbane raises a hind hoof and sends it theatrically smashing against the forest floor, a muffled thud following the action. Not exactly the loudest of attention seekers, but it got the job done. “A moment of silence would do us all some good, please.” He barters, clearing his throat before beginning, “Obviously, Beqanna is different. Now I’m not sure about the rest of you, but I came wandering this way hoping to avoid the old magic-users. No doubt they’re all off somewhere stewing together as I speak.” He tells them, a brief smile flashing over his lips as he turns a warm eye to Mortal. The most damage he’s ever done with those wings is tangle himself up, so Hellbane doesn’t worry.
“I’m tired of being the minority simply because I’m un-gifted. I like being normal. It’s a talent as well, and I think the rest of Beqanna has forgotten that.” He says. He’s not really sure where this is coming from, nor is he certain that he’s ready to admit this to Mortal’s face, but something tells him his brother’s always kind of known anyways. “I’ll say it again: My name is Hellbane and I’m looking for an untouched part of this world.” He finishes, turning to look at the rag-tag band. “Why are you all here?”
-What the color of her eyes were
ooc: Sorry Tinsel and Kortnee for not addressing your characters directly! I just pictured this as a group of everyone kind of talking over each other so HB is ready to get the ball rolling <3
