I'm breathing in the smoke of my mental illness's cigarette // Wolfbane

[Wolfbane]

Wolfbane

Their journey is short, but long-lived. Above the earth obstacles disappear, leaving a whole new sort of terrain for them to swoop and dive, loop rings around one another before spiraling or banking like odd, squabbling birds. Trekori has a natural gift for precision - the way he slices through the clouds or disappears altogether give Wolfbane a healthy respect for his new friend, but he still personally revels in the fact that his own speed is still growing, and that his launch-and-landings are a thing of beauty.

Each of the well-matched stallions posses strength, and Bane attributes this to the fact that Trekori is Kingdom raised and trained. He ponders over the offer of Ischia as they land, the thought not unpleasant when he considers it, but still … it seems too close distance-wise to Tephra, and for now Wolfbane needs his space from that volcanic lump of earth.

“Whoo!...” He exhales in the form of a loud, boyish whoop once his feet jar against the ground and bring him to a stop. Trekori feels the energy too; there seems to be a palpable electricity growing between them that causes the others to scuffle away. Not one of them is interested in catching a stray wing or hoof, and so Bane dances on proud, glittering blue legs through the brittle grass without much of a care while Kori grins like a madman.

For a moment, his attention is caught by a stray passerby and the striped palomino looks away - but Trekori’s hurrah about the Forest Guard snaps his head around just in time to see that his companion is intent on goat-ramming him with that corkscrew between his eyes. “Woah fu-” Bane squeaks out, throwing his weight instinctively onto his hind legs. In a an unexpected sort of way, he manages to twist aside, leaving his shoulder to take the brunt of the hit.

No lie, Kori’s horn was bloody sharp. It nicks Wolfbane well enough that he retaliates by flinging a long, white wing out in hopes of knocking the tobiano upside his silly head.

“Sheesh be careful with that thing!” Bane hisses, tucking that same wing back against his ribs as he surveys the jagged tear in his skin. It was nothing, really, he hardly expected it to scar, but all the same he turns his ears aside and mumbles, “Do you always try to kill your friends?”

And then he laughs.

“You know, I think I’ll come visit your Ischia sometime. See what it’s all about.” Bane says, the blood hardening on his shoulder all but forgotten. “But for now I’ll leave you to your caves and pretend duties.” The nomad growls, smartly.

“See you around, Trekori from Ischia!” Wolfbane ends, laughing as he wheels away to hop and roll over the meadow. In a flicker of motion his wings unfurl and soon enough, he’s gone away again - but not for the last time, to be sure.

@[Trekori] Oops oh well :] Just let me know whenever you want to thread these two again!