badblood. [any/all]

[Errant]

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth The beat of heavy wings signals the approach of Brennen or Hurricane, and when they are twice as loud he knows that both immortal pegasi have arrived. Errant is not surprised when Brennen stays silent; the bay stallion mastered that elite skill of knowing when to speak and when to stay silent. Hurricane’s words, though, fit what Errant knows of the grey stallion, and the black horse looks to Mountain to see his reaction. Hurricane is not his number one favorite, that is true, but had Errant known that the grey horse doubts his brotherly affection entirely, he’d have taken the time to reassure him that he does to consider lack of trust in a stranger a character flaw, and reassure them that as a member of the Tundra hurricane is by default among Errant’s favorite. Mountain does not back down. Errant is not surprised, but he is sure now that the man is no warrior – even the boldest know when they are outnumbered and surrender. He tells them that he is here by divine intervention (aren’t they all?) and was placed here. Removing him will be difficult, yes but “We are up for the challenge.” He offers to spare their lives – as though he has any authority to take them – and Errant can feel Kratos bristling beside him. This time Errant does not object to the lightening, and only watches. Errant frowns, and a trio of tundra wolves crests the nearest hill. They are hesitant creatures, both wary and fully aware of the futility of attacking the horses that dwell in the Tundra. Errant has reassured them that there is an easy meal for the taking, and their yellow eyes glisten hungrily as the creep closer. The two smaller wolves (both still nearly five feet long) skirt around the gathered assembly but the largest approaches Errant and sniffs curiously at his knee before turning to face Mountain. “Leave, Mountain. Or your new divine purpose will be to serve as their meal.” He means to give the former king one final chance to leave, but has placed too much trust in the alpha wolf and her ability to control her packmates. The One of the smaller wolves is young and eager (a lupine Kratos, it would seem), and has launched himself at Mountain’s left flank. His brother follows suit, his target the left gaskin. With her children going in, the biggest wolf leaps forward, her white teeth ready to close around the tender flesh of Mountain’s nose. She drowned a dozen musk-oxen in their own blood while her children ripped their legs to shreds; they can take a lone stallion, especially one wounded by a lightning strike. Errant takes several steps back, instinctively wary of the wolves despite the fact that he has been the one to summon them. Mountain will leave or die, and if the wolves pursue him past the border? Well, Errant has never communicated with wolves before, and cannot be held accountable for his lack of understanding. e r r a n t no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her