my words are unerring tools of destruction; Wolfbane

[Gansey]

my words are unerring tools of destruction

Finally, finally, Gansey feels he is beginning to become an adult. For whatever reason, unlike his siblings, the grullo boy had stayed pony-like and fluffy well into his two-year-old year. Now as autumn comes upon them, and with it just the barest hint of fall chill to Tephra, he feels he might be catching up to them, or in some cases, staying just slightly ahead. He is no longer fluffy, though he still has the leggy and ribby undeveloped look of a youngest who has just experienced a large growth spurt. And his wings are no longer padded with downy useless baby feathers but entirely sleek and shiny black, and so much the more useful for it.

That’s not the only change in his life. Valensia has grown up and grown beautiful, and Wilding grown up beside her. And their little brother, Wolfbane, already looks older than the slowly-maturing Gansey. Or perhaps now they will look of an age, despite Gansey being older. But as Wolfbane as grown older, their father has grown snappish and withdrawn, and so Gansey has begun to avoid them. There were many places to see, things to do, at first, but it’s become lonely. He lives for adventures, and they please him, but they have begun to lose some of their shine as the loneliness sets in.

So he comes home in between for longer and longer times, uncertain what to do about his life. Can he settle and serve the Kingdom that gave him his childhood back? The Kingdom that gave him a family? He has never forgotten the slim memories of his birth-mother (a voice, an impression), but his true family is here. Femur, Longclaw, Valensia, Wildling, and Wolfbane. Speaking of, that youngest brother appears beneath him as he glides in and Gansey calls to him, and then banks to circle around and land beside his brother, grinning at his pale-and-blue sibling as he folds his wings and walks the last few steps. “How goes it, brother?”

gansey

and I've become unequipped with the ability to disarm them

@[Wolfbane]/@[Calcifer]

[Wolfbane]

Wolfbane

The shadow Gansey casts is a welcome one. Wolfbane hadn’t expected to be gifted with one of his sibling’s presence, least of all his grullo brother (being the oldest and all) but nonetheless, as the silver-gray stallion circles above with a cry for Bane’s attention, his unexpected hello is met with an equally robust reply.

“It goes …” The striped yearling replies once his brother has landed, sighing deeply with the weight of his next words, “Maybe not as well as it always has, but it goes.”

At the sight of Gansey’s proud wings, Bane’s ruffle atop his shoulders. The dual, white gifts anchored to his spine worked just fine considering the colt’s age, but he longed to master the freedom his smokey sibling knew; the idea of leaving Tephra for good was growing sweeter by the hour. “What have you gotten into recently? Not looking so small these days.” The youngest chirps in a light tease, a lopsided grin exposing one gleaming fang from his otherwise plush, blue mouth.

@[Gansey]

[Gansey]

my words are unerring tools of destruction

He remembers when Bane was born – he remembers the long hours of waiting, excitement barely contained, for the promise of another brother or sister. He remembers that he had been, very briefly, incredibly jealous that his little brother looked like their parents, and if Longclaw had acted then as he has been acting recently, perhaps he would have disliked the trueborn son of his parents. But of course, then, both Femur and Longclaw had been excellent parents, Longclaw as supportive as any father Gansey could have dreamed up for himself. So the boy had considered these jealous feelings, and dismissed them, in a strangely mature way for a child, and the last few months of his childhood and the first few months of Bane’s had cemented their bond as brothers long before Longclaw’s mood swings began.

He flicks his ears to catch his little brother’s less-than-positive words and he assumes that it’s linked back to the fact that Bane doesn’t have the ability to flee the Kingdom to escape their father’s cutting words and lashing temper. He reaches out and nibbles on the other boy’s spine-long mane affectionately, but says nothing, letting the gesture and the commiseration in his green eyes do the talking for him. Still, when the gold-and-blue colt’s wings ruffle in response to Gansey folding his own in close, he has a good idea what the latest bone of contention in the family might be. And he can, truly, sympathize. Val had been a quick study, flying early, but Gansey had been remarkably late. In fact, he’d been at least Bane’s age or older when he resorting to half-falling half-leaping off the side of the volcano to escape the stage he’s guessing his little brother is still in; jumping and gliding working great, actual flying not so much.

“A lot of exploring,” he responds, “Checking out what else is on offer, outside of Tephra.” he lets his brother change the subject momentarily, taking the good-natured ribbing with a grin and a laugh, jostling his currently-smaller-and-less-impressive looking sibling with a shoulder shove carefully calculated to be only playful. “Yes, bigger than you now, and likely to stay that way,” he adds, playfully nipping at the younger man before dancing out of range, “Are you sure you’ve been eating all your greens?” He’s happy to engage in another few moments of brotherly roughhousing if Bane initiates, aware of his own advantage in age and experience as he has always been since the day the boy was born, pulling all of his attacks to a carefully calculated level. He looks forward to the day they might meet in a real mock, but suspects a part of him will always be too careful with his youngest sibling to do more than the most perfunctory of training together.

But he draws out of the play after a few minutes, and gives his brother a serious look to refocus the two of them, drops his nose to itch against one foreleg, and then says casually, “You know I didn’t fly until right before you were born, right?” He’s not going to say how he started, because if Bane hasn’t heard the story he doesn’t want to give him any ideas. “You’ve got time. It’ll come to you, too.”

gansey

and I've become unequipped with the ability to disarm them

@[Wolfbane]

[Wolfbane]

Wolfbane

Wolfbane is always running.

Being the youngest will do that to a soul. You watch, day in and day out, as your elder siblings achieve their goals and garner praise from your parents before you’ve even been given the chance yourself. Bane had perpetually felt that when his time to shine did come ‘round, it had never been enough. His parents had already been there, seen that.

And so, he’d started running just to try and keep pace with the others.

He worked hard, enjoyed the feeling of achieving something on his own without anyone else to tear it down. Valensia and Gansey were similarly aged and so, it seemed that they’d become preoccupied with entertaining each other. Wildling was … well, Wildling. Sometimes too rough for Wolfbane’s liking and always moving onto the next, best thing. As an effect to this, Bane's solitary nature became his armor, and it shone through his childlike exterior as Gansey felt moved to comfort his brother.

He was a big kid now, he could take care of himself, right? “Fatter than me, you mean.” Bane retorts, snapping his teeth together with an audible click when he snakes his nose out to mockingly bite at Gansey’s cheek. The grullo is too quick for measure, and far too good at working the younger boy out of his shell. The duo spar good-naturedly and where once there was gloomy tension, soon a relaxed feeling of comfort sinks in. Wolfbane couldn’t mourn the loss of a father he once loved so much - not when he was still living, and certainly not when had the support of a brother like this one.

He’s never told his older sibling this, but he’s always been glad Mother picked up Gansey that fateful day. If he’d been given the choice, Bane doubts he could’ve picked better.

“No kidding?” the blue-and-gold boy huffs, once their mock has reached its finality (Gansey wins, of course, he always does.) “Couldn’t have been the elation from my impending birth, could it have been?” He chuckles. If it was, his silver brother could thank him later. “Really, though. I appreciate the encouragement.”

His lips are dry; the cavern in his chest turns his throat to dust.

“I can’t get very far these days. Mostly just a safe hop to and from the common lands, ya know.” Wolfbane shrugs, “But someday,” He says, and his voice drops an audible octave, “someday I’ll push myself so hard and so far that I’ll forget this place even exists.”

@[Gansey]