"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
She should have known coming here would bring heartache. Should have known seeing the face of her son overlaying that of her grandson’s would hurt. But she is so very good at ignoring things that are inconvenient to her.
He would never know of her regret however. Of her sorrow in the wake of her absence from their lives. All things no one but her would ever know. But even if it was rather later than expected, he would know her. And she would tell him what he wished to know of his father. Of her. Of his grandfather (even if the memories still pick at the raw furrows left behind).
Easily matching his pace, she listens quietly to his reminiscence. As he shares his memories with her. She might be able to see them if she so chose, but there is something altogether different in hearing them from his perspective. A warmth cold image could never impart. A shared grief. And though her throat tightens and her eyes prick, she doesn’t try to stop him. Does not interrupt. She would hear all of it.
When finally his tale winds down and he chuckles, Heartfire shifts her gaze from the landscape to settle upon Wolfbane. A faint smile touches her lips as something like humor flits across her still features. “It is hard to consider myself old enough to be a grandmother,” she responds wryly. Her first less than serious quip since she had found him here. “But you are welcome to call me so if you wish. Otherwise, Heartfire will do.”
She lapses into silence for a long moment then. Her features betray none of her internal turmoil, but his words remind her too much of what she has lost. Finally, she continues, her tone more guarded. Not by any desire for secrecy, but rather a byproduct of her own emotions. “Is there anything in particular you wish to know?”
i see your sins and i want to set them free
I'm so happy they're doing this thread <333
Even if it does make me all kinds of sad D:
They might not individually be privy to each other’s personal regrets and pain, but they can share a mutual sadness over the one horse who’s brought them both so much purpose and love. There was no one Wolfbane idolized more than his father, no one he emulated more even with the countless setbacks and bitter resentment. Always all he’d ever wanted was to make the old warg proud.
“Heartfire …” He mulls, silently appreciating the trend of two-syllable names that seem to have found their way down to him. She asks if he wants to know anything in particular and while he can think of a few thousand things, he starts out with “Was dad your only child?”
Could he have cousins, more distant relations right around the corner? His father's own brood had been varied and strong as a unit, even among the siblings who weren’t blood-related. It was fascinating to think that at some point or another Longclaw had been a mere foal; it would be even more interesting to know that his childhood might have been spent not unlike his own.
And then, “Will you stay here?” falls from his overworked tongue, genuine curiosity and perhaps a spark of hope shining in his eyes when Wolfbane turns to admire his grandmere.
|| The Pirate Lord of Loess ||
@[Heartfire] I cannot explain how wonderful it is to finally be connecting all the dots <3
Perhaps it is bias, but she would freely admit to pride in her grandson. And she thinks her son would have done the same, had it been in him to do so. But with herself and Wyrm as parent’s, Longclaw had never had much of a chance. She has discovered of late how woefully underprepared she is for expressing emotion of any sort. They had never been the most emotive parents. And perhaps that had played its part in her son’s demise. Certainly she knows it has in her daughter’s estrangement.
And of course, it is only natural for Wolfbane to wonder if she has any other children. Rapture had distanced herself from the family, refusing to follow in her mother’s footsteps. And she had never been a warrior, never had a strength that would’ve enticed Wyrm to train her in the same way he had Longclaw. She knows her daughter has never felt quite as if she belonged, and Heartfire had never known how to handle such a thing. Perhaps she should have tried harder. With both of her children.
After a contemplative silence, Heartfire shifts her gaze to Wolfbane, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Your father has a twin,” she admits quietly. “Rapture.” She pauses, gaze flitting briefly, absently, across the landscape. “She seems to currently be staying in Tephra.” For the time, at least. Rapture had never settled in one place too long before.
His next question surprises her, her blue eyes swinging back to him as one equine brow arches slightly. A faint smile curls her lips, a rare and genuine warmth briefly touching her features. “I appreciate the offer Wolfbane, and I am glad you would have me. But I have found a home in Nerine.” For the fleetest of moments, humor settles into the twist of her lips. “Perhaps when I am ready to retire.”
As though it were perfectly natural to consider retirement into a land of mercenaries.
A moment passes in silence, with the gentle clip of their heels to accompany the cursory scenery of scrub and creosote. Eventually they move beyond the outer rim of maze-like spires and mesa flats, red gone brown and fuzzy from the distance they’ve put behind them, and together Heartfire and Wolfbane meander into the more verdant of Loess territory, where tropical groups of palms and blooming hardwoods scattered themselves over grass-carpeted hillocks.
“Interesting. A twin.” The pegasus considers, looking away from the somewhat saddened expression his grandmere wore. His Aunt’s name was Rapture, and much like the shadow that covered Heartfire’s stone-blue eyes when Longclaw’s name was mentioned, this idea of her other offspring seems to hit equally as hard. Curiosity over the possible falling out sparks an idea in his mind, one to visit Tephra in search of his relative, but the truth of that thought doesn’t pass over his face or into Bane’s eyes when he returns to looking at the roan.
“And that’s too bad.” He smiles, honest. It meant that he had plenty of reason to return north, not that he’d ever do it anytime soon. Something about the slate cliffs and salty brine of the wind there still sat unwell in the pit of his gut. “But I don’t begrudge the thought of you happy.” Her grandson shrugs, swooping an adept mouth towards the ground for a quick bite. He swallows on her mention of retirement and with another cheeky glance at her flawless pelt, laughs aloud at the absurdity of her being fit for retiring from anything.
“You’re always welcome here anyways.” The stallion declares, “And if you ever need me, I don’t doubt you’ll know where to find me.”
She barely pays the passing landscape any mind. Lovely as it is, she’s seen it all before. Her inclination for spying is hardly something she bandies about, but any who know her well know she sees far more than she should. No doubt her grandson already has an inkling, though she doubts he yet understands the true scope of her knowledge.
Instead she watches him as they walk, carefully observing, tucking away what she learns of him. She has seen much of him, but beholding him with her own eyes is an entirely different experience. And this visit is when she will hold close in both her memories and her heart.
He seems intrigued by the thought of an aunt, and if Longclaw had never mentioned Rapture to him, she could understand why. Who wouldn’t wish to know about a heretofore unknown twin to one’s father? Perhaps they would even grow to know themselves as family. Although, given her daughter’s flightiness, she does have to wonder if he’ll actually find her. Even she has a hard time keeping up with Rapture.
She offers him a mildly amused smile when he expresses his regrets. As charming as the offer had been, she’s quite sure he wouldn’t actually care for having her underfoot. She has rather been known to cause headaches. And frankly, she isn’t about cease her activities. He could thank her later.
With a rather impish nod of her head, she accepts his standing invitation. “You can be certain I will,” she replies with a dry humor, before continuing in a more serious tone. “And know that I will be here if you need me.”
Her gaze lingers for a long moment on the stripped stallion before she offers as soft farewell. “Until next time, Wolfbane.” With that, she turns north.
![[Image: Wolfbane2.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/601918740845559818/696502662816071770/Wolfbane2.png)
![[Image: 3bCHvj.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/3bCHvj.png)