[private] each time the feeling fades

[Gale]

@Tantalize
@Obscene

i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do ---------- i hope you dream of me ‘I don’t really think you want it, she’d said. It had taken him some time to find out what Ryatah had meant. At first, he’d been busy with the unfamiliar - the ability to summon souls, to phase, and to leave the entire plane of existence. That had taken hours, long enough for the blood along his beak to dry. When he shifts back to a horse, landing amid a field of poppies, most of it flakes away, but he makes no effort to hide what he has been up to. Obscene had invited him here, after all. The angel’s empathy has been a most unwelcome surprise. He had most certainly not wanted it. He’d managed to rid himself of it once before, sealing it - and the metaphorical heart it had given him - far in the North. It had grown quickly, like a tumor, and he is eager to be rid of it again. Gale had felt the barest brush of the black void in which she now existed and even now it sends a shiver down his spine. The Curse had known nothingness as well, in the time between this life and the one before; he had tried his best to make it worse for her. The blue stallion takes a step forward on one feathered foreleg. The talons of his winged limb dig into the rich dark earth of the Pampas, and he takes a deep breath of the spring flowers. Having grown up in Loess, his host has a great many memories of time spent in these fields under the watchful eye of a red roan pegasus. Much of it is blurred with hate and possession though, leaving the cursed creature using his own Eyes to identify a meadow that looks to be infrequently attended by members of the Flower Court. He calls Obscene to him, sending an image of the field where he stands and himself in it, a navy stalion surrounded by white-flowered blackberry growing low through thick patches of lavender and daffodil. He uses the plant manipulation that he had stolen to soften the briars. Intending only to affect those in his path, Gale removes them from the entire patch. Not his intent, he thinks with an amenable shake of his head, but a suitable display of power. Gale is hopeful that the black stallion will not bring Aela along with him. Gale isn’t quite ready to kill her yet, but he is quite certain that if he sees her he’ll be sorely tempted. Perhaps he’ll bring his Champion, the shifter. Gale suspects that the Skander the skinwalker was the same bay stallion that he’d found skulking in Tephra, though he’d not introduced himself. It seems that Gale hadn’t managed to kill him after all, but perhaps he will get the chance this afternoon. As he waits he looks once more for Viszla, and again finds nothing. The empathy, and the weakness that comes with it, keep annoyingly returning his thoughts to his daughter. To Malik as well, and Bolder, who he has not seen in some time. Gale growls, irritated, and shoves the thoughts away by focusing instead on breathing a thin strip of fire into the greenery at his feet. It nibbles away slowly at the lush, rain-watered plants, and he decides that setting the place ablaze might wait for a drier season, when the devastation will continue long after the arsonist is away. GALE

current appearance: navy blue stallion with glowing brindle, lightning, shadows, 
black horns, and white quetzacoatlus wings. also a halo that flickers in and out at random