"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
Rushed as he would prefer to be, the arrival of Rey on Loessian borders had held up the striped Lord for a few hours before he could begin the true flight north. “No matter,” He thinks, after the strange mare had ended their brief encounter without goodbyes, “at this rate if Vulgaris intends to show, we’ll arrive at nearly the same time.” And those had been his parting thoughts before, at last, he’d put the kingdom of hills and wonders behind him to soar onward to Nerine - the kingdom he hoped would soon be a part of his past.
Breckin couldn’t be blamed for the feeling, neither does he pin the lingering awkwardness on Wishbone while his spread wings revel in the feeling of a warm zephyr giving them lift. It was only something inside himself he’d yet to bury, though he intends to lay those haunting memories to rest by coming here and shifting focus to Dovev simultaneously. There was no better salve than purpose.
As the lingering whitecaps of Hyaline’s mountains begin to grow small in his peripheral vision, Wolfbane dips below the cover of heavy clouds and sheds his power of invisibility, mapping out a good landing strip while running a busy tongue over the empty space where his fangs had once been. It felt odd to miss something so superficial, (though he felt as if somehow they were a final link to his family of shifters) but it had been his choice to give them up … Rey needed them even if she hadn’t wanted them, and what she’d given to him in return was altogether a much more powerful gift.
The drake pushes his emotions aside, circling over the southernmost border of Nerine before diving like an osprey to the ground, where he brakes in a mighty show of aerial prowess before long-trotting down onto the sea grass. His shimmering, blue hooves tear crescents of sod up when he jerks to a halt, sweat shadowing his belly and neck while a lather of foam builds behind his flared nostrils. He felt unnaturally prime, despite the loss of his unique teeth, and began to glance around for sight or sound of Vulgaris while he waited.
Soon enough either the viper or an inhabitant would come to intercept him, so in the meantime he busies himself with food, taking rest where he could find it during this hectic period of change.
|| The Pirate Lord of Loess ||
@[Breckin] @[vulgaris] Vanilla if you’re reading this, I fully expect Leilan to crash this thread; everyone else this has been adjusted to reflect present time, a.k.a no-fangs Bane
Vulgaris has never been to Nerine but he follows Wolfbane all the same, without hesitation at their borders. His eyes drift across the kingdom as he comes to stand near the Loessian lord, admiring the cliffs and the smell of salt on the breeze. Sometimes he wishes he could breathe underwater so that he could explore what horrible things thrive beneath the ocean’s waves. He can only imagine the sorts of monsters that lurk there and the sorts of violence they could conjure together. A dreamy sigh escapes him before he turns to look at Wolfbane.
“Do you think they’ll want to renew their contract with us?” he asks with a slight tilt of his head and something dangerous gleaming in his eyes. Vulgaris and his king share a penchant for battle and so he’s sure they both have the same question on their lips. Peace is ideal for the sake of the children of Loess, of course, but comfort breeds weakness. Time without pain is time spent growing soft.
He turns his head back to Nerine as he wonders what sort of leader the kingdom has. The majority seem to be more like himself – rough around the edges, quick to bite back when they’re displeased. He can respect that sort of leader. The scars across his face and shoulders are quiet praise of the queen of Hyaline and her pet, a testimony to their meeting. The scales that grow across there are warped by the torn tissue but they shimmer in the sun all the same. How strange to be so mangled and ugly yet beautiful in their oil slick sheen at once.
His tongue boredly pins itself between two sharp teeth as he tests the points of them. If he only knew that Dovev hid here, he would leave his friend to hunt him. The day would not end without blood and gore despite their good intentions for this meeting.
" ancient language, speak through fingers. the awful edges where you end and i begin. "
Lately, she'd caught herself studying the skies, gaze lifted upward in hopeless regard, waiting for what felt like the inevitable to finally rain down on her. That was the way he had escaped, after all, purple wings unraveled to throw himself into the limitless open plains, knowing full well there was no way she'd be able to counter an aerial retreat. Before she had dreamed what the winds might feel like pressing under her, but the wonder of daydreams had bled into something more bitter, raising thoughts of pain and guilt where innocence had once grown.
The slate lipped plane morphs into a deceptive curl, sneering at her own memory of his threat to make her another one of his rape victims. Breckin had believed him, believed that he would try if given the opportunity--she'd searched his memories, and understood him to be just as vindictive in current times as he had been in the past. Klaudius should have done it when he had the chance then when she'd been caught off guard, too stunned to fathom what was happening, and when she had been utterly alone. But he hadn't, and his play at revenge may end up becoming his downfall.
Today when her glance passes the horizon towards the vertical limits, she expects to see the pegasi that staked Nerine as their home--Castile, Nalia, and a handful of others perhaps, though if they are there, she passes over their silhouettes, searching for a glint of lavender contrasting with the cloud laced skies. She makes an unsatisfied huff and nearly drops her gaze back to the rock walls until a blur of gold catches her attention. For a moment she watches his skyfall into Nerine, only breaking her stare when she had no other choice and he disappears beyond the treeline. Something threatens to rise within her, but she refuses to give in and instead latches onto the frustrations the waiting game that the purple nightmare was plaguing her with.
Well versed in the coarse beauty that was her home, she's upon his landing ground quickly enough. She watches him silently for longer than what might be deemed polite, dark eyes emblazed with curiosity as they take in his familiarity in its entirety. They linger over his mouth, noticing the lack of fanged protrusions over his cobalt lip, remembering the way they felt as they grazed over her neck. The reverie causes the severe line of her mouth to drift upward into a smile he might recognize. She stifles the urge to quip smartly about the change in his appearance when her eyes thread the gap between where the Lord of Loess and his shadow scaled comrade.
"I'm Breckin," she offers the unknown stallion, peering beneath her unruly forelock with a slight lilt of her head. The intrusion of her sight causes the leopard mare to toss her head, attempting to rid the blockage to better view the pair. The motion causes an unintentional wince, drawing on the still sore musculature of her neck and the lingering scab leftover from the escaped prisoner's parting gift. "Wolfbane," she says, at last, reworking her fallen expression back into a shallow smile, "What brings you my way?"
BRECKIN
call me forward when the crown falls .......
@[Wolfbane] @[vulgaris] @[Leilan] tagging you because not sure when you want to crash it :p
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside could have so many ragged holes inside
Interesting.
The way she stares at something beyond the edge of his vision is not exactly interesting as much as that it slightly concerns him that someone else seems to have caught her attention longer than is normal, but for the sake of peace and lack of other intel, let’s just call it interesting. Right? He doesn’t have to act so possessive as Dovev did to Heartfire last time he saw his niece. Nope. No way. Then again - mostly not because she wouldn’t want to talk to him for a week he’s sure. Or throw a rock at his head, but, that was less of a problem than the silent treatment. He knows that one, and it did do such weird things with him. The world would be such a better place if everybody just stuck to their rightful soulmates once they met and never let go - and showed it to everyone else that they were unibtainable from that point on.
But it’s no point being jealous of ghosts and things that were, weren’t, or aren’t. So, he clenches his jaw and moves in a leisurely trot, to finally see a familiar figure in the distance. At that, he is slightly taken aback, then shakes his head. He’s just being an idiot, they’ve probably met when she became queen in a diplomatic meeting. Right. Besides, Lepis not being here is also a plus, all things considered. She seems to have been replaced by a scaled figure, scarred and thus, more to Leilan’s liking. A warrior rather than a diplomat.
Although that sort-of meant that Breckin going in alone was a bad idea, right? They must be here to end the contract. Technically they could do anything, even though they weren’t posing very threatening at the moment. Hmm. Well, time to crash that party. Wolfbane should be made aware of his moving here, surely. Even if it was just to annoy him.
Probably it was just because he wanted to annoy his great-(great-?-)nephew.
He canters forward and bumps his shoulder playfully against the striped stud when coming to a stop; perhaps the scales are a little rough but it shouldn’t damage him. ”Bane, what’s biting you?” Of course he noticed. He’d kept an eye on this one when he came to Loess whenever he couldn’t annoy Arthas, because he had so much that reminded him of his (other?) nephew of his. Though perhaps they hadn’t talked much prior to the escape, he was very sure the young man had had fangs then. And also when he was last in Ischia. Hmm, he wonders how that one worked out.
But first things first. The roan icedrake peeks around the pegasus to address the scaled grey. ”Hiya, sorry for the lack of introduction. Leilan.” Breckin doesn’t need introductions, and he entirely avoids her (now-probably-furious) gaze and turns to address Wolfbane again. ”I hope Lepis didn’t bite your head off instead of mine, after I left. I didn’t think she’d be that upset... For what it’s worth, I’m glad you brought another friend today.” Grinning at the scaled man, he looks at the three of them, then finally shuts up.
It had been too good an opportunity, hadn’t it?
HTML by Vanilla Custard, picture by x-celebri-x on deviantart
@[Breckin] @[Wolfbane] @[vulgaris]
Now is as good a time as any (;
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
10-12-2018, 01:34 PM (This post was last modified: 10-12-2018, 02:19 PM by Wolfbane.)
WOLFBANE
“Hardly likely.” Wolfbane replies to Vulgaris, dredging down a mouthful of the somewhat pungent northern grass. His Champion glances out across the windswept flats and unsteady landscape, drawing Bane’s eye along with it to view the ghostly silhouette approaching. “Nerine needs us less than any other kingdom.” He murmurs for the benefit of them both, just minutes before a familiar knabstrup mare comes into focus.
Growing silent, the pegasus Lord draws up alongside his viper comrade, giving them the appearance of a unified front, parallel at the shoulder. Bane meets her gaze eagerly enough when Breckin introduces herself, like a man gone without water, and though a brief second too long is spent mulling over her new injury (so close to where he’d kissed her) otherwise he seems pleasantly apathetic. “You look well, Khaleesi.” He manages to impart, tersely breaking the concentration between them to glance over her shoulder.
Leilan. It seems the scaled brother had a penchant for surprises, this one topping the other in terms of confused aggravation. “Can’t say I’m not a little shocked at seeing you.” Wolfbane offers in the way of a return greeting, stepping deftly aside to avoid any shoulder contact with the overly-eager draft. Nothing about him seems any different than their last encounter, right up to the baiting tone and offhand comment about his Cleric. “Vulgaris, Leilan was once a former prisoner of Loess and now a Brother of Ischia.” He explains concisely, a wild grin lighting up his face.
“Don’t worry about Lepis.” The striped horse chuckles, “We both know she certainly doesn’t worry about you.”
Fun and games, really, though at this point his awareness of their excluding the Nerinian Queen is too painfully obvious to ignore. Settling down again, Wolfbane turns to give due credit and dive right into the matter at hand. “Loess and Nerine worked well. We came to thank you for the opportunity, and also to deliver a bit of grave news.” He ends on a grim note. Smile dwindling, the Loess male turns aside to his companion and opens the floor.
“We’re opening a hunt for some horse by the name of Dovev. Vulgaris can explain.”
She is not a diplomat and so is is not often inclined to attend meetings of that nature. Unless, of course, they interest her. The appearance of her grandson on her borders however, is most definitely of interest. She of course knows of the contract that had recently expired between the two kingdoms, though she would be surprised if Wolfbane had come to renew it. He is enough her blood to no doubt have discovered they hardly need Loess at this point of the game.
It is curious, too, that he had arrived with Vulgaris. Though the viperous stallion likely would not know her, though she is certain he would recognize her. After all, she had been the one to split up his initial scuffle with Dovev. She highly doubts he would forget a thing like that. Especially, as it turns out, with his reason for coming today.
Heartfire had already made the decision to join the growing group, but Wolfbane’s final admission would most certainly have cemented it. When she had peeled Dovev, bloody and broken, off the meadow those years ago now, he had somehow become her responsibility. And whatever else her foibles might be, lack of loyalty is not one thing.
And frankly, she couldn’t simply stand by and let her grandson take on such a challenge either. Perhaps Wolfbane thought he had the upper hand, but she knows Dovev too well (better than any other, it could be said). And Wolfbane would be foolish to underestimate him. There would be no winners.
Sharp blue eyes fixing upon to two Loessian’s, she joins the group comfortably, settling beside Breckin with only a glance to acknowledge the queen. As though she had been invited. Her eyes pass briefly over Vulgaris before settling upon Wolfbane. Her demeanor is still, unyielding. Entirely different from their encounter in Loess.
“If you are hunting for Dovev, let me make your hunt a short one,” she advises, forgoing the greetings they all seem so fond of. “He is under my protection.”
Her introduction is brief and to the point. Vulgaris assumes she’s someone important to the kingdom but he doesn’t dwell on it for long. Instead he simply tries to remember the name as another approaches their group. This one is more cheerful and even bumps Wolfbane jokingly. The serpent remains silent as he observes and waits patiently for the formalities to fall to the wayside so the business aspect of their visit could begin. His sage colored eyes focus on the friendly one as he offers up his name and Vulgaris offers a slight nod of his head in response.
Wolfbane speaks and he turns his head to listen while he explains the foundation of their strange friendship. Was it common for the Loessian lord to befriend his captives? But he lets the strangeness of it pass him by when he brings up the hunt. A smile curls across the edges of his lips as he turns to the representatives of Nerine.
But just as his lips part to speak, there is an intrusion into their little gathering. He doesn’t recognize her at first, as she had been unimportant to him at their last meeting. A low growl thunders from within him as he takes a step closer, head tilted to watch her closely.
“And whose protection are you under, I wonder?” he asks as he turns his gaze to Breckin and Leilan for a moment. “I’ll paint Loess with his blood, and yours too if it pleases me.”
A storm of violent visions fill his head as his dark smile remains on his face. Without Leliana or Adna to soothe the inferno of his anger, he forgets how to rein in the hunger. Instead he simply lets it take hold for a while as he eyes her throat.
“Why don’t you just cut your losses now and save yourself the trouble?”
His eyes meet her gaze and he waits. Vulgaris is sure she’ll decline but he likes to watch others deny their own salvation. It would make the hunt that much more pleasurable for him.
" ancient language, speak through fingers. the awful edges where you end and i begin. "
She'd already prepared herself for a situation like this. Or perhaps the plural form of 'situation' might be best, considering the fact that two of the moments she had statistically foreseen appeared to be presenting themselves simultaneously. One of those moments being when Leilan would infiltrate a reception of kingdom visitors along the border, the other being when an odd clash of her past and present personal relations would intermix. For as much mental preparation as she had managed to compose, it hardly bore influence to the way her shallow grin falters before she regains its upturned curvature.
The leopard mare waits amidst the quick banter between the men, taking the precious few seconds it gave her to recollect her expression into something more neutral. It's not difficult to surmise that her best mask of diplomacy will be necessary when the rotation of her pale ears pick up on Wolfbane's words. Breckin nods once in silent agreement, acknowledging his admission of their kingdom's contracted cooperation before her attention shifts towards his serpentine comrade, patiently awaiting his explanation. There's an inquisitiveness in the way she regards him, curious to potentially learn of the reasoning behind this manhunt, and why they sought an audience with Nerine's representatives over the matter.
Whatever he begins to say never quite leaves his mouth when their meeting gains yet another body and her dark gaze turns with a tilt of a questioning brow when Heartfire draws up beside her. She'd only recently come to learn that the Lord of Loess and the veteran Leviathan were directly related, and her sudden appearance did little to stifle the spotted woman's rapidly growing intrigue. But the white laced mare's solemn statement turns Breckin's expression stoic in the tense silence behind it.
Not a diplomat then, she thinks to herself without humor when Vulgaris takes the opportunity to speak his piece, watching with little more than a phlegmatic stare as he steps closer, imparting a promise of ill-intent. She could appreciate his directness with what he desired, but that was the only commendable aspect she could interpret, ultimately unimpressed with his incapability to control the rise of his overriding emotions.
"Nerine's," she says flatly, stated with nothing more than the obvious fact that it was when Vulgaris questions whose protection the blue roan mare lies under. It was not a matter of doubt regarding the other mare's ability to defend herself and those she deemed hers, but a matter of a significant allegiance. Heartfire had been amongst the Amazons and their legacy for far longer than Breckin could admit to and the Leviathan queen would be bloody damned if the modern matriarchal society would turn its back on a member with such a degree of loyalty.
"Forgive my blatant ignorance, but would someone please be so kind as to enlighten me on the circumstances surrounding the hostility towards this Dovev so that we might be able to discuss a more appropriate medium for Loess to use for its redecorating purposes?" There's no humor in her tone or the dark set of her eyes when her gaze moves from Vulgaris to Wolfbane in search of that odd green hue of his, unable to prevent herself from wondering if there would be a way to peacefully settle whatever this was.
a dragon who couldn't be hurt on the outside could have so many ragged holes inside
There's so many things happening, it actually takes him some time to organize his thoughts.
One, Wolfbane is being an evasive little bugger, and so he rolls his eyes when the man turns away to nod at Vulgaris. He'd shrugged at the Lepis comment - it's the other comment he huffs about. "Get your facts straight when you can, Bane." He doesn't sound too irritated, he hopes; still mocking the striped young man, he doesn't elaborate either - it might be for getting the order of being a Brother and being stolen mixed up, or on the fact that he never was truly a prisoner, but more of an odd-failed-attempt-at-recruiting; it might also apply to his recent move away from the Brotherhood and into the Sisterhood (though he'd never given up on his vows or taken new ones, yet, but with the two kingdoms being so close, it didn't really matter - otherwise she would have asked). But Wolfbane was hardly an adult when he joined Loess - and barely one when Leilan had already decided on leaving. Could he truly blame him for not keeping track? It was just too bad that he sometimes had the impression of the young man that he let the whole kingship go to his head.
Because like he'd constantly rubbed in Arthas' nose, ruling sucks.
As long as one knew how much it sucked, they'd do a good job at it.
The comment about Lepis, lets him shrug and then grin sideways a bit, but no incredibly-low-comment (like, good to know she doesn't dream of me, because it's not mutual), actually leaves his lips. He's more curious about the grave news, and lets his grin fall back to a more neutral expression.
Then his eyes harden at the man.
He's about to ask - Did you ask your grandmother's permission? - but she already does that job for them by showing up and immediately claiming Dovev is under her protection. Ugh. Of course. It's that one they're after. He can entirely see him losing his temper - not unlike Vulgaris now. If that's where their problems stem from, it's going to be ugly.
Which he doesn't want to get in between to.
Then Breckin does, of course.
With a deep breath intake, he looks at them while Vulgaris outs the threat to his niece and Breckin neatly positions herself before her (figuratively only, thank goodness). "Vulgaris," he says slowly, musing over the name. Where did he hear that before... oh, right.
"I'm one hundred percent certain," he starts with a direct and very straight face at the other scaled horse, "that Leliana wouldn't agree to any of this painting of yours. And what will you tell Adna? If you have a personal problem with someone, we have the plains for that, hmm?"
HTML by Vanilla Custard, picture by x-celebri-x on deviantart
@[Wolfbane] @[Heartfire] @[vulgaris] @[Breckin]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
With enough surprise to scare death himself, what was supposed to be a final farewell has become a whirlwind of misinterpretation. Heartfire arrives and for a moment the striped pegasus wants to smile, (it threatens to break loose any moment) yet he doesn’t because a blind man could read her thousand-yard stare. It preludes what she’s yet to say and somehow, Wolfbane feels like he’s already puzzled out her mind. Words seemed unnecessary coming from such an authoritarian mare, the way they spill like molten iron and harden even when Vulgaris lashes aggressively back.
But she just can’t help herself, can she?
Nor can Breckin. They both settle on a masked sort of resolve, one clipping out demands right on the heel of the other as Breckin glances between the group and finally settles on himself for an explanation. Bane snorts, hardly believing that she would so blindly cast herself into a tumultuous storm while asking, mid-drowning, for the other sailors to throw her a life line. What could possibly have kept her busy enough to become detached from her own people?
“Don’t look to me for refuge. Sink or swim.” His glare seems to say, though he holds his tongue on reserve and remains silent for Leilan to intercept.
“Leilan is right.” The stallion finds himself saying, after a second of quiet deliberation. Tilting a curious eye in his grandmere’s direction, the Pirate Lord secretly doubts that any creature like the one Vulgaris had described could possibly need the roan lady for protection … of any sort. “Blood sport is lawful and inescapable if Vulgaris or myself choose to smoke out the rat.” He mutters, unphased by how one obviously dangerous male seemed to turn the tide of what he supposed were loyalties to himself and family.
This is why he’d been so hesitant to allow the image-giver into his life and home, why he’d been positive he’d regret whatever Breckin stirred inside of him.
In one instant those who claim ties to you are just as quick to knife you in the back.
“Dovev is banned from entering Loess,” Wolfbane states, “and unless any of you have quantifiable evidence disproving his attack on my champion’s mate, we’ll continue the hunt.” he speaks plainly.
A coin flip of a risk, but he’s betting on Breckin’s sensibility over Heartfire’s attachment and Leilan’s cheery disposition. Flicking his mute, olive eyes once more in her direction the striped horse waits, wondering if she’ll risk riding the tides of war for a single beast who (he assumed) wasn’t even honestly a leviathan.
![[Image: Wolfbane2.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/601918740845559818/696502662816071770/Wolfbane2.png)
![[Image: 3bCHvj.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/3bCHvj.png)
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