[private] she got gold doorknobs / wolfbane

[Wolfbane]

- Are you thinking of me when you love him? -

Despite himself, it is good to see her again. Tactless as ever, Wishbone jerks a smile to his masked face when she first strikes, then soothes the ache of her absence in a signature nip. The touch sets his skin ablaze, but Bane hardly flinches under the pressure of her barbed joke or the aftereffect it brings because his mind has gone to the folds of Lepis’ eyes where trust blooms in the murk of their depths.

He is a man, after all. Capable of misdirected thoughts and, obviously, misdirected attentions. “Mm. I do like the way that sounds.” He responds as they walk, the tenor of his voice charred by smoke, “Even if it means I’m wrong.”

The bright sparks of flame in his gaze as it crashes into hers suggests laughter, even if Bane doesn’t. There’s no forgetting the shape of her face in that cave, or the way it looked as those same lips begged him never to leave. Even if the sun cloaked her in fire like it did now, with every subtle roll of her curves, the memory of that reality outweighs this one where she is Queen, guardian, and Leviathan. Wishbone knows he loves her and Wolfbane knows this is dangerous for him; he can’t sever her.

“For surprises you have impeccable timing, lady.” The stallion laughs, easing around the uneven bend of a sloping hillock. Where they go, the grassy knolls will only rise higher and grow more sparse in their array of edible vegetation. No freshwater for a few miles means no life, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t surprises. If she loved the sea and swimming (fact; he always assumed she’d sprout fins someday) his intoxicatingly beautiful visitor would also love the thermal pools.

Maybe he could convince her to love this place, in the same stroke.

“You just missed my own coronation. Big event, all the Loessian mares were crawling on my delicious body.” Bane chuckles throatily, fully expecting her to disregard the truth as fiction.

WOLFBANE

@[Wishbone]