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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  she got gold doorknobs / wolfbane
    #1

    she’s got jumper cable lips
    she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

    The sky is moody in Nerine when she leaves, the early autumn morning shrouded in heavy rain-clouds. There’s an angry whisper in the wind as it kisses along her spine, but it provides only electrification in her bones. Wishbone knows where she’s going and who she’s going to see and that in itself is enough to ignite the thrum of excitement in the depths of her body. Frost has already begun to cap the hardy grass of the northern kingdom and it proves that their swirling, snow-blown winter is fast approaching. The grass crunches beneath her weight as the Khaleesi departs from her kingdom’s border and it becomes a steady noise as she moves into a casual lope.

    The bitter weather gives way to a partly cloudy sky (cotton-candy puffs of white against watercolor blue) as she skirts around Hyaline’s mountains. The ocean is running along her left shoulder as she moves, having slowed to a traveling jog, and already the sun has warmed her shoulders. Wishbone doesn’t mind its rays, certain she will painfully miss them when Nerine’s sky becomes eternally overcast. Although during any other day the mahogany might pause to toss herself among the waves playfully, she’s hellbent on her purpose for this journey and thus her feet never stray from their path.

    It isn’t long before she finds herself in Loess’ patchwork of a kingdom. The clouds have officially left the skies, leaving behind a wind-scrubbed blue that fully allows the sun to shine on Wishbone’s lithe body. The rays highlight her curves and accentuate her angles, lightening the auburn in the color of her tangled locks and darkening the sable of her long eyelashes. She halts on the border, habitual manners from her childhood over-riding her desire to see Wolfbane’s handsome face.

    No call rides to her mouth — she’s a Khaleesi now and she would prefer this meeting to be one that is not riddled with politics and battle-tactics — but instead Wishbone finds a rocky outcropping to stand beside, able to slide into the shade should an unwanted suspect dance by. She’s content to wait for the perfect someone to waltz by.

    wishbone



    @[Wolfbane]
    #2

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

    Lucky for her, the perfect someone is making his rounds.

    It’d become habit, after so many years of watching his own father leave in the morning and then at dusk to make sure Tephra’s borders were well-guarded. He thinks, as he drifts through patchy cloudwork and different drafts of air, that perhaps this duty is much less taxing than the one his father used to do, (given his gift of flight) but today he’s especially grateful for the added swiftness because it brings him ‘round to catch sight of Wishbone before any other stragglers might.

    The initial surprise of her showing up unannounced is soon replaced with genuine joy and the same unusual tightening of his gut that usually accompanied her presence now, still Bane drifts lower into her sight and circles a few times to slow his ascend before skidding to a neat stop near her. Gathering himself, the newly-crowned Loessian picks his way across the rocky, hardy earth, a “What a sight for sore eyes!” slipping from between his handsome lips before he can greet her properly with a warm kiss against her copper cheek.

    Bane’s content to settle here, near to Wishbone and away from the others but instead he finds his head jerking away from her, the quick toss of his neck and the ensuing ripple of his staunch, white mane indicating that she should make herself at home and welcome. “What’s wrong, Wishbone?” He asks her without delay, interpreting the hard set of her usually playful and warm eyes while he turns about, ready to finally lead her through his Kingdom.

    WOLFBANE



    @[Wishbone]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #3

    she’s got jumper cable lips
    she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

    The perfect someone has, surprisingly and without question, become even more perfect.

    In the days between their last adventure together, Wolfbane has grown into even better shape and the Khaleesi delights in watching the sunshine glint on his golden-skinned muscle as he dips through the sky to meet her. There is strength in his body now, adding definition and detail to the otherwise gangly and long figure of his childhood. They had both been that way — long-legged and stumbling over themselves — yet now they find their bodies in entirely different situations. Situations that are not ignored nor declined.

    A wild grin finds Wishbone’s face as Bane approaches, his comment well-met. There is something different about him, she notes. He is no longer stiff under the gaze of Nerine, nor nervous with the way her amber eyes slip along the length of his neck and down to his deep chest. He is suave, easily charming her with a kiss to her cheek. “I could say the same for you,” she says warmly. “I bet every Loessian mare is crawling over your delicious body.” Oops. Although the words are husky, Wishbone doesn’t regret them.

    Instead, she replaces his touch with one of her own; a gentle, albeit suggestive, breath of her air whispering along his neck just behind his ear before she nips at the tender skin ever so lightly. Wolfbane is gesturing to make herself comfortable and she finds it is easy to do so, even as they walk deeper into the supposedly-enemy territory. She is protected under his olive gaze; even if Arthas or another Loessian arrives, the gold-and-blue stallion will vouch for her. She knows this as clearly as she knows the sun will rise and set.

    He senses something within her (perhaps something she hasn’t even sensed herself) but Wishbone turns to him with a warm expression in her amber eyes. She chalks it up to her thoughts about the turmoil between Loess and Nerine, between the Allies and the Others, as she calls them. “What? Nothing’s wrong, Bane.” She laughs then, a throaty sound that brightens the otherwise quiet of their surroundings. “I’ve just missed you.” It’s an honest confession and her sunset eyes are finding his olive ones, even as their feet keep their movement.

    wishbone



    @[Wolfbane]
    #4

    - 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]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #5

    she’s got jumper cable lips
    she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

    For the most part, Loess is unlike any place Wishbone has traveled. Each of the kingdoms are unique in their own ways — Sylva with its eternal autumn, Ischia with its scattering of islands, Tephra with its volcano, Hyaline with its mountains, Nerine with its cliffs — and Loess fits smoothly into the picture. The backdrop of Hyaline’s mountains are a comforting presence among the foothills and even Loess itself holds a hazy place in Wishbone’s childhood memories.

    She finds it is easy to wind along the embankments of the hills, where the grass dips and rises, just as it is easy to laugh at Wolfbane’s words. The hoarseness of her laughter follows his words while her amber eyes find the spark that lingers in his. Wishbone might laugh at nearly anything that is amusing, but the gold-and-blue stallion brings out the most from her. The cheerfulness of the sun and the feel of his muscled shoulder only inches away only further allows her fingers to loosen from the scepter and crown.

    “When the traveling bug strikes, I don’t deny it.” There’s light in her words, and also truth. Wishbone has always been the type to follow where her heart guides her. Most days it guides her straight into the jaws of death — nearly breaking herself against the face of the volcano, nearly drowning herself with a fall from terrible heights into the ocean — but today it has brought into the delightful presence of Wolfbane. She doesn’t complain.

    His next words bring about surprise in her sunset eyes. Wishbone stops in her tracks, long sable legs brushing against breeze-whispering blades of emerald grass, and tosses her slender mahogany head once. The tangled, dark locks of her mane dance for a moment before settling again, much like the rhythm of her heartbeat. “You’re King of Loess now?” Either he’s teasing her or the world has a sense of humor.

    “That’s entirely ironic and I’m tempted to not believe you.” There’s a smirk on her mouth before she glances around their surroundings, feeling the breeze shift against her skin and the smell of the sun ride on his pale wings. “You’re shitting me, Wolfbane.” The Khaleesi laughs once, low and thoughtful, before putting her amber eyes deep into his gaze. She finds truth there, plain as day, and delight pulls disbelief away with a force that warms her chest.

    “Well damn, Bane! Now how am I supposed to love you when you’re ruling the enemy to my kingdom?” It’s half of a joke, but there’s a mild level of truth in her words. Nonetheless, Wishbone is moving herself closer to his golden-skinned body, womanly curves silky gliding against him. It could be an act of selfishness — a direct insult to the Loessian women aforementioned — but mostly she just wants to be close to him. Their touching brings about another level of heat to her skin, one that isn’t from the sun, and it reminds her of Ivar and the beach not so long ago.

    An ache blossoms, fierce and reckless.

    Wishbone presses her mouth against the slope of his chest now and it’s a tender yet fiery movement. She could ask him a hundred questions — what he plans to do with Loess, what his motives will be against Sylva, if he plans on joining the Allied — but they don’t leave her mind. “No wonder you look so tempting. You’re finally in my league.”

    wishbone



    @[Wolfbane]
    #6

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

    Watching her dance from laughter to disbelief is almost as amusing as the notion of him being King. Wolfbane remains steady, casually so, while Wishbone flips through her many faces of surprise and his smile grows each time she spits out a shocked response or sharp curse. Now he actually wishes she’d been able to come to his petty, rather quiet crowning. At least she could’ve enjoyed it along with him.

    All the same, his smile stays languid, warm like a lowering sunset as she eases closer. Every time she does this - presses herself close and hot - he wonders where she’s learned it from. Where womanhood had suddenly blossomed when once it’d been innocence. He wonders if he’s ready enough yet for the fire she stokes inside of him ... he wants a blaze to match her own, but - “Or maybe you’ve just been so focused on your own potential,” He laughs gently to her barb, pulling away from the silk and satin of her touch, “that you hadn’t seen my own.”

    The smile falters, but he could never be upset with her. Not Wishbone.

    “And we don’t have to be enemies. Not anymore.” The pegasus follows quickly, reaching across the divide he’s made to press an apologetic kiss against her neck before moving ahead with his intended journey. He leads on, hoping to erase the earlier sting by saying, “I’m trimming my ranks down to a total of five; we’re for hire. The land itself is our … base of operations, I guess.” Bane shrugs, pleased to have found a way around the stigma of usual politics and militia.

    He wonders what she’ll think - Nerine has every reason to view Loess as a potential contract - but more so what she’ll think about himself at the helm of a such an operation. Sometimes the Tephra native still finds it hard to picture her as she is: Khaleesi of the Leviathans, young queen of a powerful Kingdom.

    His childhood friend, grown into a mare he can hardly bear to look at because she’s become something so impossibly beautiful and wild.

    “You can love me however you’d like.” The striped stallion begins to tease, not forgetting her earlier slip, “I can certainly work out a discount for someone of your … stature.” Her guide quips, the devil himself flickering behind his olive-toned gaze.

    WOLFBANE



    @[Wishbone]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #7

    she’s got jumper cable lips
    she’s got sunset on her breath. now i inhaled just a little bit, now i’ve got no fear of death

    Although the fresh knowledge of his coronation brings about some darker thoughts, Wishbone also feels relief wash over her shoulders like Tephra’s warm southern ocean. A portion of Sylva’s threat has disappeared and the weight of the potential war on her shoulders begins to lighten, a slab of heavy concrete breaking apart and sliding off. The autumnal kingdom won’t stand a chance against the Allies without Loess at their side and, with the way Wishbone knows the new king, perhaps even against them.

    The thought eases her previous concerns about the war, but her mouth still frowns at Wolfbane’s comment. The words might be partially true — they hadn’t discussed just how involved he had been with his newfound kingdom in those moments among the artificial light — but Wishbone knows his potential for greatness has been just as prominent as her own. She just hadn’t noticed it before, both into adulthood and in their days of infancy. She doesn’t respond, nor does she have to when the gold-and-blue stallion moves on quickly.

    “Will you join us against Sylva?” Wishbone is certain he must know of the Allies and their plotting… Whether he is a wise king or not a king at all, Wolfbane would seek out that type of knowledge for himself. Although these thoughts press in her mind (and the weight of them is a familiar pain at this point, forming to the curves and valleys of her brain like a well-molded torture device), the mahogany mare moves easily to follow Wolfbane with a subdued smile.

    Her mood improves when she hears of all the plans he has for Loess. They’re bold moves, but Wishbone is certain he will put them into motion effortlessly. Wolfbane will spin his kingdom into something vibrant and unique among Beqanna’s royal landscape, turning it into something desired among the other kingdoms and perhaps even into the common lands. She listens with both her sun-dipped ears twisted toward him among the tangled mess of her dark mane. “You’re going to be a great king, Bane.” Although she could be trying to heal the pain from her earlier — unintended — slights, Wishbone means every word.

    Thankfully, the tension disappears between them as quickly as it had come. A carefree smile tosses itself against her smooth lips when Wolfbane teases her, and it’s a look much more welcomed and familiar than her previous ones. As they walk, Wishbone bumps her shoulder warmly against his and tosses her head. Her forelock lands across the bridge of her face, strands of dark hair falling into the amber of her eyes. “I was expecting you to raise the prices for me,” she jaunts back and the words are honey-whiskey in her throat.

    wishbone



    @[Wolfbane]
    #8

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

    God, the sound of her voice is enough to have him apologizing for her mistakes. She was just being a sass; why did he always have to be so testy? “Because you’re a fucking jealous twit.” He reminds himself with a single thought, biting back a grimace when Wishbone gracefully compliments his abilities. The bay mare had every right to be surprised - she’d been groomed for her throne, Bane had stumbled into his.

    “I’m not sure your fragile heart could handle how high those prices get.” Bane chuckles waywardly, glancing over the white curve of one wing to see the Khaleesi flip her sun-kissed hair. He can’t help himself from reaching out to stroke her ribs with the very tips of his feathers, an immoral smirk painting itself onto his face. “Unless you’re ready for children.” The drake shrugs, glancing towards Wishbone with a look that belied he wasn’t entirely opposed.

    Before she can answer, Wolfbane darts ahead to take the lead and avoid any stray teeth. The sound of his chuckle follows behind, echoing against the solid wall of bedrock to their right side. Having passed the grassy knolls and wandered into the mesa of Loess, there seems to be nothing out this far - only the occasional scrub and this landmark, towering impossibly high above them. On his first flight he’d discovered the sky-high clump of spires (not that you could really miss it)  but it hadn’t been until his fifth or sixth that he’d found a way to approach it’s hidden secrets on foot.

    “Hope those volcano climbing days haven’t left you yet ...” The fanged stallion smiles, raising the wing nearest the wall before pushing himself flush against the rock. For a second the pegasus looks like he’s rising without flight but it’s not that at all - there’s a thin ledge jutting out from the wall, and Bane has started climbing the incline as if it were a staircase.

    The ascent isn’t really for the faint of heart or the clumsy sort, given that it could hardly be called a pathway. Every now and then there seems to be a break in the natural ramp, where they have to reach across an empty divide or even push themself to hop, but the stone holds without protest and before long only the wind whips at their eyes and a narrow passageway waits ahead. Bane leads the Leviathan Queen through, to the other side.

    From up here, Wishbone could finally see what he discovered that very first day: the spires that one could see from afar on the ground were clustered around and broken up by a myriad of rainbow-colored pools, levelling down to the center of the landmark where a black hole steamed angrily. “This is the source of all the Loessian springs.” Bane breaths heavily, a tinge of sulphur in the air around them. Steam coats him like beads of crystalline sweat, trickling down the subtle curves of his shoulders and chest as he steps into the nearest water.

    “The blueish ones are fine to touch, the rest I wouldn’t recommend.” He smiles eagerly, glancing back to hungrily watch Bone move. “I come here to escape and most nights, sleep.”

    WOLFBANE



    @[Wishbone] Woah you got a novel <3
    I imagine it looks something like this from the ground and something like this from the top
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]




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