we’re reeling through the midnight streets (any)

[magnus]

desire consumes me like a fire consumes me

Magnus is not entirely surprised when he sees the wolfish stallion make his way toward them.

Something like a brotherly grin warms his features, gold-flecked eyes brightening. His interactions with the other had always been pleasant and had planted in his heart an unwavering affection. He knew Ruan to be honorable and steadfast and if someone else was going to come and offer this mare a home, he would have asked for no one else but the stallion next to him. He nods toward him, crooked smile deepening. “Always good to see you, Ruan. Glad to know you’ve not turned a complete hermit yet.”

The jest is clear as he turns his attention back to the mare before them, face sobering just a little at her answer. “That’s nothing to scoff at,” he says simply, whiskey-voice neutral and without artifice. “And it is something that has become increasingly difficult these days.” He knows, they all must know, the danger that threatens them in a place like this—somewhere exposed to the elements and the disease that has long since infected the wind and the soil and the water. It is difficult to escape it anywhere now.

She is blunt, to the point, and he finds that he doesn’t mind. He simply rolls his shoulders. “I’m from Tephra. You used to be able to see the volcano from here but it’s a little bit longer of walk with the shifting of the lands.” He missed how easy it had been to travel to and from the field when they were one of the closest neighbors to it. Now, his days are longer, his pace having to be necessarily quickened.

“We are currently safe from the plague, thanks to the sacrifice of a past leader, and we have open borders for those who are seeking somewhere to remain safe.” He pauses, roguish face considering her. “But we are also home to warriors and diplomats and those with a fire in their heart and a hunger in their belly for more. We keep our arms open but Tephrans are a proud people and we fight for the peace we want.”

Perhaps a contradictory statement but it’s always been the duality of Magnus that he now bleeds into his home, that he has always bled into his vision of a haven. To take the brunt of the work so that others may choose their way of life: to simply live in quiet, to become a soldier, to become a silver tongue.

More burns on the back of his tongue, but he keeps it at bay for now, instead turning his attention to Ruan, the passion barely banked but the golden stallion keen on hearing what the other had to say of Taiga.

good shouldn’t need to tempt us above

@[Ruan] @[Let]