[open] The Sweet Sting || Ghaul, Any ||

[Wolfbane]

I believe I'd die if I only could

I sure feel strange, but it sure feels good

Wolfbane enjoyed giving Ghaul something to satiate his curiosity in lieu of useless clicks. Maybe the tongue action might’ve impressed the odd, semi-draconic horse, but Bane the shifter couldn’t quite justify doing something that felt… silly? As a skinwalker he’d learned thousands of new animal languages and body cues. He’d known they existed, anyone who saw a true wild animal knew that the creature interacted with its own kind in unique ways, but he never could quite grasp the depth and intricacies of them like he could now, since he could walk in their pelts. This ‘clicking’ does not register on Bane’s radar because it’s as alien to him as the creature that produces it. He doesn’t even associate it with Fiorina (who’d been a half-breed herself) because up until meeting the knife-tailed mare, Wolfbane had no idea such a thing could exist at all.

No matter. Their world and every horse in it changed as rapidly as the seasons came and went. His little tricks and costume changes amused Ghaul in the moment, and that seemed good enough for the winged sentry here in Pangea.

“Ghaul,” Wyrm’s whispery thoughts permeated Bane’s mind, repeating the name, “a truly fitting title.” Lupei and Longclaw agreed. Wolfbane tilted his head this-way and that-way, just as pleased with the inspection as his inspector was with the change. It felt refreshing to be around a true patron, and his similarly twisted lips broke apart into a tilted, toothy grin at the warmonger’s history. “They will die. You will not. These misplaced accusations of violence will be re-written in the history you make for yourself,” Bane chuckled, but the noise was more like stones rumbling, “as destiny’s chosen victor.”

He couldn’t be sure of it, but there was an intuitive 'awareness' beginning to grow in his thoughts. Almost a strange camaraderie towards the blunt, tawny male. An understanding of sorts.

“Vengeance.” Wolfbane answered Ghaul's question readily enough, and the conviction behind the one-word statement was unusually deep in its delivery - as if that single word had been delivered by four mouths instead of just one. He’d noticed that Ghaul’s creepy grin had faded, but that seriousness did little to dampen his own spirits. In fact, his smile grew wider the more he spoke. “I have many enemies who would like to see me as a caged animal, whereas I would prefer to see them repay their debts in blood. I don’t necessarily need or want Pangea’s help in this matter.” He paused, delivering the statement as neutrally as he could behind a sinister set of teeth, “but the … leverage a kingdom provides would make the path to victory, for myself, just a tad less difficult.” He explained.

As a nomad of Beqanna, Wolfbane had been stripped of the ability to ‘officially’ act in his own self-interest - he couldn’t battle like he used to, or snatch less-fortunate horses. He felt himself restrained by having no restraints at all, and Pangea (along with his new acquaintance Ghaul) had lately become the most desirable and welcoming of Kingdoms.

“Give me rank and refuge, Ghaul of Pangea, and in return my ‘services’ are yours to call upon.” The manipulator bargained, and his skin rippled faintly again as he shifted from a weak imitation of Ghaul back into the old body of the hairy goat.

For this thread:  Sex: M  ◉  Appearance: Pissed-off Goat Thing  ◉  Mood: Enlightened

@[ghaul]