Create, explore, expand, conquer || Arthas, any ||

[Wolfbane]

WOLFBANE

There was very little to begrudge in Arthas’s well-placed pride for the dual kingdoms. Near the beginning of Wolfbane’s career in Loess, the dappled gray had tried to perform the same bond with the red-gold territory, but the timing hadn’t been right. Modicum ran unchecked and Loess was still bearing the brunt of her allies mistakes. Wisdom, rooted well, often sprouts buds in the most unpredictable weather. This conjoining had been inspiration to Bane as a yearling recruit, and he only hopes he’s done the new King of Sylva proud.

That’s not to say that Wolfbane doesn’t notice the immediate bitterness at his mention of Ischia. “So he’s on the hunt for something even he can’t find, hmm?” The drake muses aloud, partially to himself and partially to Arthas standing by.

An idea begins to take shape in his head.

“Loess blossoms! We miss you, of course,” He follows in short order, quick to change the course of their conversation. “and yes, ha ha, Vulgaris is our new Champion. Great minds think alike, huh?” Bane winks suggestively, finally warming up to the frigid autumn forest. The thought of Titus joining his ranks soon was also a present idea, but he stifles it because, honestly, he’s not spoken to the boy about it - only watched his progress from afar.

“You should come and visit when you have the chance.” He suggest to his once mentor, serious if only for a moment. “Who knows, perhaps soon enough I’ll have a kid to cramp my style and we can do that foal exchange no one seems to want.” The fanged stallion teases, memories of a spotted ghost running through his mind.

“That being said, I think my time here is up Arthas.” The young Lord sighs, concise as always. Politics were droll, but necessary. “I think I’ll make a personal visit to Ischia, see what Brennen is really on about.” He infers, so that his friend might have a clue about his last whereabouts, should the striped pegasus suddenly turn up missing. Perked above his spine, Bane’s wings shiver to warm themselves for flight; he waits a second more, reaching out to bump a hard head against his companions shoulder in masculine affection, and then he takes to the sky.

|| The Pirate Lord of Loess ||

@[Arthas] he misses him already