Beqanna
I take what’s mine and then some more || Lepis || - Printable Version

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I take what’s mine and then some more || Lepis || - Wolfbane - 10-28-2018

My dreams have all come true

Brittle are the bonds which once seemed so iron-strong, now that Arthas has come to acknowledge the truth of Lepis’ whereabouts through clear eyes. “This is how life happens,” Wolfbane reminds himself, like a teacher scolding the ignorant youth, “I made a selfish choice, I put myself and my desires before Loess and now the sour fruit of that seed is ripe to bursting.”

But he doesn’t feel guilt. He never will.
He only understands the concrete ways of actions folding into reactions, that falling in love with Lepis had started so long ago and now the torrential wave is going to sweep up his mercenaries as well. Love and shit, mistakes and enemies all swirling together in the muck he’s single-handedly produced. “It feels good.” He notes silently, careening down from a bleary autumn sky to soar within plain eyesight above the stretch of Loess territory. All the shit, love, and mistakes felt good because for God’s sake, it’s what he’s privately wanted all along. To tear up the flooring of this kingdom and to lay a better, stronger foundation in the wake of annihilation.

He might finally get his chance to sink elbow-deep into destruction, but that’s something to be discussed with his mate, among other topics pushed aside for the benefit of their combined sanity.

Lepis had always been a source of infinite clarity and Wolfbane needs that side of her now more than ever.

So he flies. He’s been flying since he left Arthas at the border, partially to clear his head and partially because he’ll come across the cotton blue, perlino mare quicker this way. Below him the expanse of ever-changing topography slowly passes, reduced to tiny replicas of trees, shrubs, and stony hills from where he stays aloft some hundred or more feet above. The closer he dips towards the earth, the faster it reels out of control, spinning itself into a wild blur of motion when he comes low enough to skim over the tops of some higher rock formations. Were it not for the conversation he’s just had, Bane might be tempted into a bit of aerial practice …

Yet he remains steady, focused. Both his navy-banded forelegs are tucked close to his girth area and his heels trail out from behind, so wind-whipped that the bone-white banner of his tail can’t be felt flapping over his skin. His narrow, sharp wings (with tips so long they almost don’t make sense) flick subtly, teetering him sharply from one side to another without much effort on his end. The Pirate Lord has always prided himself on his personal ability to suck speed right out of thin air and it shows, clearly, though for a brief second he laments that his wings aren’t a tad broader and a bit shorter so he might be able to coast for a few more hours.

The exertion of such a trip forces him to bank and land sooner than expected, somewhere near the mountainous west of his home. It’s familiar enough to him - the stone spire nest he’s claimed for his own isn’t far from here - it’s just that he’s not looking to sleep or recoup in the rainbow-colored springs they hide. He’s looking for Lepis, whom he has yet to catch a scent of. With a resigned sigh, Bane trudges ahead and tucks his appendages back over his spine, hoping that soon enough luck and good timing will bring out his beloved Queen.

Like all good nightmares do



@[Lepis]


RE: I take what’s mine and then some more || Lepis || - Lepis - 10-29-2018

Around me, the fog rises thick and warm, obscuring the world. The chatter of my waterfall is the only sound I can hear beyond the mouth of the cave.  Weak autumn sunlight cannot even penetrate the cover of steely clouds, and all of Loess feels suspended in a world with time. A few flakes of snow drift haphazardly from the metallic grey sky, the final remnants of a storm that had covered the kingdom with the first snowfall of the season. I had watched the snow melt as it fell, hidden beneath my bower of branch and stone.

English ivy twines with pothos overhead, and I watch the snow melt drip from the miniscule white flowers of the spider plant. I had caught scent of Arthas earlier this morning, and rather than face him, I have instead gone into hiding. This cave had been a discovery in the past few weeks, warmed by the spring fed waterfall just over the mouth of it. Accessible by wing (and I had tried on foot a fair few times) it is my preferred place when I do not wish to be found.

Well, found by anyone that is not the striped stallion.

If the fog were less dense I might have seen him sooner. Instead I call out as he passes over, a quiet whiny that is followed by my own plummeting from the cliff before my wings spread out. I follow him to more level ground – there is little in these highlands – and land not far from the flaxen haired drake. I tuck my pale wings to my still-slim sides (it will be weeks yet before I can be certain we are expecting).

I step closer to the white-winged stallion, a softly delighted smile on my dark mouth. Each time I see him I feel the same: like a warmth that is ever-kindled in my chest at his mere thought grows a bit more fiery. Love, and not the kind that I am forced to manufacture. With him here it is easy to forget what had me fleeing to my cave, and I am distracted further by the way his muscles move beneath sapphire and golden skin and the taste of sweat as I place a kiss along his crest.

It would be easy to slip into the haze, to avoid the resigned set of his shoulders in favor of luring him to more pleasant activities. I nearly do, because the autumn has not yet left us and I have never seen anything more wonderful, but instead I draw back. My head tilts curiously as I attempt to meet his olive green gaze with my own.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” I ask, removing the responsibility of making the decision from my own plate. I assume it has something to do with the visit from the King of Sylva, and though I’d have liked for the diplomatic visit to have gone well, I have had far too much good luck of late. It was past time for fate to strike a blow at my happiness.


RE: I take what’s mine and then some more || Lepis || - Wolfbane - 10-31-2018

My dreams have all come true

Slinging an inky blue jaw over his striped shoulder, darkened by the shadow of a neatly placed wing, Wolfbane takes her in and breathes out the rest of existence. On that same gust of wind he spreads worries away, and leans in eagerly to the singular pressure of Lepis’ greeting kiss. This time it’s not enough, however, to leave him eyes closed or on the edge of some daring precipice. Maybe she senses that, which is why the satin-colored, female pegasus leans promptly aside and reads his much-too-talkative expression. Preferably Bane wanted to forget Arthas entirely, but the discomfort of a holding in such a forbidden word like war was beginning to scald his tongue.

He decides on giving her a little sweet before the sour. “Everything seems so small when I’m with you.” He admits, gripping a fierce, glinting smirk while leaning back himself to inspect every angle of her cherubic face. “She’s like a blazing seraph, ringed in blue-white flame and always ready at the sword, should I need her.” His thoughts tumble, the two of them waiting, watching each other in a tense quiet. Gods help him, but Bane feels ready for whatever’s coming.
He’s aware that he’d die for her.

And that’s when it starts - after Lepis thinks about how the good can’t last forever, and after Wolfbane realizes his life matters less than someone else’s.

Their world shudders.

“Did?-” Her lover spouts, dim confusion clouding his face and sharpening his eyes. Unthinkingly he turns away, sight trained towards the southwest and despite his tired shoulders the drake flutters into an unsteady hover. Beqanna refuses to cease her transformation, so fear begins to creep on its elongated claws. It scuttles through the Lord’s veins as he watches the mountains begin to implode, and strikes once, coldly, at his heart when the very earth beneath him splinters into veins of dark crevasses. Sweeping his wings, Bane twists to frantically locate the mare he’d lost sight of and along with her, he sees chaos.

Wildlife and Inhabitants both are streaming in dark rivulets towards the sea. Somehow the stallion manages to find his voice and it roars over the cacophony, “I’m not letting you out of my sight! Let’s go!” without explaining where or moving ahead. They both know.

Beqanna forces them one way or another.

Like all good nightmares do



@[Lepis]