"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
10-01-2018, 07:28 AM (This post was last modified: 10-20-2018, 06:00 PM by Lepis.)
I precede the dawn across the hills, feeling the dew of the grass as it brushes against my navy legs, and pausing now and then to brush my muzzle across the velvet soft ferns or the beaded burro tails. The plant life of Loess is second to none, not even to the magically autumnal woods from whence I come. I nibble at the ripe fruit of a prickly pear, and watch (nearly cross eyed) as a moth rests on the bridge of my nose before fluttering off to the next flower.
The soft rustling around me suggests that the world is waking, but it will be hours still before the larger creatures rouse themselves. I have the place to myself, at least for a time.
I pass the three-armed saguaro and turn at the crooked pine, venturing farther and farther from any known trail. This is the scrubby land where few horses venture, the heart of Loess where the springs are often bitter or sour if they are drinkable at all. The rocky hills grow steeper, and I squeeze through a narrow crevice in the rock and then scramble up another boulder, only to step into open space.
I plummet toward the suddenly distant earth, but a last-second flare of my wings has me landing lightly beside a clear pool of water. It reflects the fading moonlight and the pale haze of dawn. I lower my head to the fresh water, and then watch the world around me grow lighter.
I had told Arthas I was leaving early for Ischia, but after spiraling upwards I had banked north rather than west, and landed just across the border. Our conversation last night had not ended well, and the dappled stallion hadn't returned to our thicket to rest. I've no doubt he found comfort with another mare - Rey perhaps, or a willing Sylvan mare - and that does not bother me. It should, I have begun to realize. It should, but it doesn't.
Other things that should not bother me do, and the disharmony between these two realizations has be splashing one navy hoof in the water to shatter my reflection. I am not given to outburst of temper in public - not anymore, not with this title - but here I am alone and can do as I see fit.
ooc: Lepis is where the person is in this picture
@[Wolfbane] hello this is for you now
10-04-2018, 06:16 PM (This post was last modified: 10-04-2018, 06:18 PM by Wolfbane.)
WOLFBANE
A haunt wisps past the borders of Loess and Wolfbane, cloaked in invisibility he rarely activates, watches her with baited breath. He should be concerned that she’s come here, but it seems logical: Loess had always been her home and he wasn’t the one to swipe that comfort out from underneath her. When his unseen legs drift casually into the footsteps Lepis leaves behind there’s a moment of guilt, one where he realizes he should expose himself and question her but he simply doesn’t. There’s too much unspoken fascination rattling about in his mind this early morning. “What are you looking for?” He wonders, stifling a laugh as he quietly observes her exploration of the flora and fauna, her pale skin backlit by an early spring dawn.
It’s not like him to spy, not like him at all and yet … Bane holds the guise of his magic trick even when she moves on, close enough to view the few wispy strands of her ombré tail as it flicks like a blue-white banner behind the odd assortment of ocotillo and palo verde. She blends into the silt and sands, scrub and edible grass as if Loess itself has sculpted her from the clay along its riverbanks. In silent admiration the stout pegasus stallion begins to feel the weight of her constant presence over this past year - how much Lepis alone has influenced him - and he regrets the loss of her to Sylva, in title if nothing else.
Pausing, the secret audience he’s given to her becomes momentarily forgotten when a quail’s echoing note wails above the silence. It seems the Cleric has found a niche between boulders to uncover, and Wolfbane contemplates casting aside this folly of a snipe-hunt in favor of a little exploration of his own until the muffled sound of a struggle catches him off guard. The invisibility is cast away, he trots ahead to the tight walkthrough, and struggling up the incline where her smell lingers he too finds the oddly hidden cavern with a misstep and awkward tumble.
Fluttering does very little to save the ensuing crash when Bane hits the ground, one wing smattering the pool she’d struck moments before as the stocky horse sheepishly flails his striped legs in an attempt to right himself. In scrambling up from the ground he flicks both wings, tucking them quickly with a shake of his head and a glance sideways. “Erm, I thought you’d hurt yourself so I … but you’re not hurt so … is everything alright?” Her counterpart mutters, eyeing Lepis from across the watery expanse.
|| The Pirate Lord of Loess ||
@[Lepis] I've no idea why the tag you put didn't work :/
My hoof is raised to paw again when I see something moving above my reflection. It’s getting bigger impossibly quickly, and I draw my head back instinctively even though I am uncertain what it might be. That wariness saves me, for an instant later something huge slams down into the water at my hooves. Scrambling back quickly, I flare my wings wide and Wolfbane is a half-breath from being petrified with fear before I recognize him. He might get the lightest touch of it (my control of these fiercer emotions has always been challenging), but I pull it back as I force myself to take a slow breath.
By the time the ripples fade in the water, I have taken stock of the sheepish stallion that stands opposite me. Despite my initial fear, there is a smile growing at the edges of my mouth, one that widens as he babbles. ”I’m fine,” I tell Wolfbane with a grin, unable to keep from goodnatured teasing. ”But I cant say the same for your dignity.”
His presence here explains the that tickle at the back of my neck, the sense that something - someone - had been following me. It is not a sensation I am unfamiliar with, though most of the time it is only a figment of my mind. I’d thought it might be someone from Sylva, and so I attribute the inexplicable giddiness I feel to the relief of the that suspicion.
”I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place,” My gaze leaves the blue-striped stallion as I say this, trailing instead along the opening of the cavern where the black of shadow is only distinguishable from the midnight sky by its lack of stars and the illumination of the moon. ”It’s the best place to watch the sunrise,” I add as my blue eyes lower to see him out amidst the shadows. He looks oddly distant across the shallow pool, so I pick my way around the rim to stand beside him.
Bane never really had a problem coming up short around the familiar pegasus mare, at least where his dignity was concerned, but for a moment after rising he’s terrified. She might be incensed at him for intruding, or simply angry about something out of his control, and as the fear resides uncertainty settles like a lump in his throat.
Then she smiles, all the world rights itself, and her flying (nay falling) companion chuckles deeply as he meanders nearer to her. Vibrating to loosen the fine sand between them, his pale feathers settle properly along his sides while he listens to her musings about this place, turning his own eyes up and around to inspect the hollow cavern. Upon glancing down, Lepis seems to have moved closer herself so Bane finds it unnecessary to speak in his usually projected bass, “Good thing I followed you, then.” slipping out as a whisper tinged with humor. “I’d hate to miss the best sunrise in Loess.”
Honestly, he would.
“Is this where you come to hide during a marital spat?” The softened brute teases, only marginally guessing what could’ve driven her to the confines of solitude when open air suited her so much better. She seems like a bird caged down here, left to gather dust with only a window of the heavens to keep her soul light with song.
Still it doesn’t dampen the overall atmosphere. Lepis’s nook has a certain charm to it and a robust method of self-preservation in the form of an underground pool, now haloed with pewter light from the peeping moon. If one wanted to not be found, this was certainly the place for it. “If so I’ll keep the secret, don’t worry. Maybe we could share.” Wolfbane smirks in boyish inclination, “Fort Hideaway.” He christens it.
10-06-2018, 07:49 PM (This post was last modified: 10-06-2018, 07:55 PM by Lepis.)
His voice is a quiet whisper, a tone fitting this silver-lit world that is not quite dawn. I smile, though the reaction is all but hidden in shadow. The relief of not being followed by a ne'er do well does not fade away as I thought it might; if anything it grows stronger as I draw nearer the striped stallion. It doesn't feel quite like relief either, and I settle for calling the emotion Nameless, at least till such a time as I find words for it.
Whatever it is, it is warm and bubbling and utterly decimated by the mention of a marital spat.
Is that what this is? This bitterness that festers between Arthas and I? Though I can scarce remember a time in my life without the the dappled stallion, there is no doubt that things between us have changed. The trigger to this metamorphosis is clear; I feel trapped and miserable each moment I dwell within the autumn woods. But Sylva is where Arthas is, and so I attribute those emotions with my thoughts of him as well.
Coming here, to this 'Fort Hideaway', is an escape in more than one way.
'Maybe we could share.' He says, and the mischievous cant to his voice and the smirk bring back the Nameless again. I realize, all in a single instant, that I'd made a mistake. Sometime - some long ago time - I'd mistaken infatuation for love. I'd considered them a single emotion, which is not so surprising in a teenager that is guided by the first flush of pheromones. I'd clung to that blend of emotion for a year in Sylva, and projected it into myself when near my dappled king. Now, with him elsewhere and my defenses down, there is finally space for genuine emotion to seep into my mind.
I have no idea what to do with this realization.
What good is the sudden and complete knowledge of my own heart if there is nothing I can do about it? Wouldn't I have been better not knowing? I could make it it work with Arthas, I know, I could force my emotions into submission and give him a son like a good wife should.
But I am not a good wife. Perhaps I have never been.
I reach toward Wolfbane, unsure of my intentions but knowing without a doubt that this is, at last, something that I want. The bitterblood smell of Kaurma winds across his striped neck, and there is someone else too. I lay my head across his neck in sudden hug, and though my navy lips hover above his neck I cannot bring myself to kiss him with the reminder of his other women so close.
"If you tell anyone about this place, I'll have to kill you." I say instead, squeezing him firmly but briefly, and pulling away. Let him think it was a spontaneous and natural hug, I think to myself. He can't know it is the first time I have (truly) willingly touched anyone in nearly four years. There is a serious set to my face, but I refuse to drown out the Nameless love, even if there is no use for it. Not for me. Not with him.
okay so not what i expected but diff still Lepis lol
@[Wolfbane]
A pause between them has started lingering, hinting that in mentioning Arthas he’s upset Lepis. Bane locks his jaw, unreasonably frustrated that she would get miffed over something they’ve joked about for years. Because to him that’s what her reaction signals: a protective trigger to guard Arthas “unto death”, or however they’d agreed to stick together way back when.
Sometimes he thinks they couldn’t be more attuned to one another, and then he feels like they couldn’t be farther apart.
At least they’re physically close. Close enough for Wolfbane to just see the edges of her lips twitch into a look that unquestionably flattered her. Sharing wasn’t off-limits, it would seem. On numerous occasions he’d watched her shy away from exposure, (sometimes covering the scars he admired, ones which seemed like visible memories) and now it appears this place, along with the cover of darkness and a change of subject, has given her reason to open up again.
Aching sorely, he unclenches his teeth.
It’s quiet now, just the two of them. He wishes he could see her face; a longing builds to read the message hidden there. The sound of their mingled breathing weighs heavily enough to spur him on, another joke ready to fire off his tongue.
Lepis hugs him.
She reaches out on her own to hold him, meeting the resilience of stone when she squeezes because he’s frozen. How many times had he thought of this moment, only to push it further away from reality? How many times?
Once they leave here … “No, not again.” He resigns, having suffered the loss of Wishbone, letting Breckin go, and succumbing to demons in casual smiles. For some reason, the touch of this shadowy blue, perlino mare is a celestial sky of planets and the unknown, where most others had merely been singular stars or comets. If he left this place without trying everything he possibly could to explore that unknown, he’d hardly consider himself a man worthy of her at all.
“It doesn’t have to be a secret.” The quiet stallion wants to say, his mane bristling back into place once Lepis withdraws. Instead he promises, “You’re safe.” understanding that her threat shouldn’t be taken lightly. If he believed anyone capable of really killing him, he believed it was her.
“I still remember the first time we met.” He says, the words themselves hushed. “What changed? What could I have possibly done so right?”
"You let me choose." I still remember the cold chill of the autumn wind against my fresh injuries when Wolfbane had asked me what I wanted and told me he'd wait for my decision. After a year without choices, he'd offered me one. Our conversation had not started well - few of my conversations did, in those days - but we have changed since then. Changed for the better, I think.
He is more patient, less likely to jump to action without the full truth of a thing. A fortunate thing, since I have been prone to testing his patience of late, and have heard the same is true of others. The striped stallion reminds me of this again as he promises that I am safe, and I reach out to him again, letting the emotion guide my actions. I push back a few strands of bent white mane that had not bristled back into place, tucking them into place with my navy lips.
"You never expect me to be someone I'm not." There have been expectations of me since the moment I took my first breath, and while there are limits to all things in life, Wolfbane hasn't asked more of me than I am willing to give and most importantly - he'd asked at all. I say the words as I pull away, but I don't return entirely. Instead I stay near, as though tracing the outline of the stripes the reach down his neck is also some attempt to groom his disarray.
The golden hairs feel cool in this semi-subterranean chill, and I realize that as I press against them the scents of the others are covered not so differently than how I rinse away emotions I do not want to feel. Emboldened by this and the darkness, I move to the next stripe and touch my mouth gently to the separation of blue and yellow.
"I've always been fond of the kings of Loess." I tell him, and the words might be flirtatious were it not for the reminder of my husband who does not wait up for my return. I'd hoped they might quell the fizzle of emotion, but without purposeful projection they have no power. Instead I'm left having made an admission that might mean many things, none of which are likely to be things that Wolfbane wants to hear.
It would be easy to make a joke of it, to nip at the skin of his shoulder as though this has all been a ploy to get close enough for a prank. That is my first reaction, and I've even drawn away to do it when I find myself admitting what I've never said aloud.
"I shouldn't have gone to Sylva. I should have stayed here, in Loess." My blue-grey eyes flick upward, seeking his even in the shadows. The uncertainty balls up within me, the sensation of dreading a collision that might never come. "But I don't think your queen would have liked it much. Or your...others." The urge to press myself against him until the last evidence of them disappears hovers at the back of my mind but I refrain, still poised at a precipice that I cannot see the bottom of.
10-12-2018, 12:21 PM (This post was last modified: 10-12-2018, 02:27 PM by Wolfbane.)
WOLFBANE
The sensation of her careful touch smoothing out his mane feels like home. Outside the universe disperses, taking Loess and Beqanna with it to leave himself and Lepis behind. They exist only here and now, encapsulated perfectly though Wolfbane can feel a rushing awareness overtake him. He’s falling, and it doesn’t seem like iminent pain.
“You were always only ever you.” He thinks in silent wonder, feeling by blind sense alone as she traces the length of his signature markings. There’s no hope for resistance in their little world and no sense for it; he melts eagerly enough into the contact and closes his eyes, building a memory he won’t soon forget. It was all the stallion could do given the surprise he felt towards Lepis: everything he could’ve expected from an encounter like this was shattered from the beginning.
She felt impossibly right, not hesitant or lewd, charlatan-like or phony. Perfect. Absolutely perfect, from the way her caress bloomed like flashing sparks behind his closed lids to the sense of utter calm that left him feeling submerged… even when she leaned apart to hound him.
So, the perlino mare had a thing for certain Kingdom rulers? Big deal. He could relate to that on a personal level. The point remained that she was currently hiding out in some sunken pit of cool earth with the wrong Loessian King, and that truth only roused a witty sort of grin when Lepis began to blurt about her feelings towards leaving him. Along with some revealing comments about his recent … activities.
“Queen, BAH.” Bane spits, “Kaurma’s power is better than I anticipated. Now she’s got everyone else convinced as well.” He sighs, leveling his gaze with Lepis. Around them the dinge had started to lighten, making the hard glint of impassioned worry obvious in Wolfbane’s stare. “And Arthas? You think he’ll like it?” He presses, incling his mouth nearer to her painted one. “Considering the fact you’d be busy with me.”
“He would have to be,” I answer, but my tone is distracted, so focused am I on the rapidly narrowing space between us. There is a brief quiver of fear, but I let it be. It fizzles away without interference, and I breathe out a quiet sigh. It is relief, certainly, but it is also release of a deep breath of preparation, and perhaps a shadow of desire. That alone is unfamiliar, a novelty of an emotion that flickers freely about my iron-bound mine. I can feel the heat of the yellow stallion’s against the chill of the cavern air, and I lean into it.
“There’s nothing between Arthas and I.” I tell him, feeling the brush of his lips against mine when I speak, “Nothing like, well,” I lean forward, pulling a long violet tail hair from where it rests on Wolfbane, “like that. Not anymore.” Not since I had shaken myself out of my post-traumatic shock, during which I’d done only what was necessary to survive, and that was to ensure that the child I bore would reasonably be believed to be my husband’s.
It’s been almost two years of skirting around the truth, of ducking Arthas’ caresses when they threaten to turn amorous, of avoiding him entirely at times with the (valid) excuse of diplomatic necessity. Two years of turning over a problem in my mind, of acknowledging that it was even a problem at all. My parents had been in a loveless marriage after all – at least on my father’s part. My mother had loved him – that much had always been clear – but if he’d loved her back, he’d have never left. I had never expected anything more for myself. I was fond of Arthas, I found him pleasant, but there is no denying that I had never felt this.
Whatever this is.
It emboldens me, that is certain. I had kept my tone light at the purple reminder he had been with another mare not terribly long ago, but I had not liked it. (Even admitting this to myself is a revelation, though it shouldn’t be). It makes me brave enough to return my muzzle to his now-bare shoulder, to press up closer until the hollow of my chest is pressed against his side. It might be easier to not look at him when I speak, I think, but I find that instead I am distracted by the sensation of our touch.
“I’d come home,” I tell him, and it doesn’t even occur to me that I should consider Sylva my home now, “I’d be with you if you’d...if you’d be with me too. With...just me.” I press my muzzle against the last bristles of his pale mane, moving them out of place just to watch them spring back again. Anything to avoid focusing on the blackness that grows with each millisecond before his reply.
How? How could that be when he’s seen them together? Arthas haunted her like a shadow, one that Bane saw stretching close by at her heels wherever Lepis went. Until now he could never equate one without the other or stop to consider them separated. The cream mare draws close to pry a strand of unfamiliar, purple hair off his skin and Bane’s forehead smooths free. Ah, that’s how, he understands. Appearances weren’t everything.
She presses closer, giving Wolfbane a sick rush of adrenaline that trips his pulse. It felt as innately right as it did wrong, since every electric caress is followed by a sharp reminder that where they’re headed will end up tearing apart someone else.
Selfishly, the Pirate Lord doesn’t care.
Brazenly, his head tilts aside so that the bend of Bane’s shining mouth can kiss her jawline.
“Home…” He shapes the word in his mind, taking the essence of his Cleric beside him and deconstructing her. That beautiful spark of life broken down into a simple feeling he uses to fill up those same letters, starting with the memories of their encounters and ending with this admission in Fort Hideaway until it almost overflows. Lepis becomes his home, then. The two are synonymous.
This mare would risk everything for him, and he’s about to do the same.
“That would be the easiest part of us.” He smiles into the warmth of her skin, long past ready for a commitment. “You have my trust,” Her paramour murmurs thickly, another kiss indented against her flesh, “you have my undivided attention,” another murmur, another passionate embrace, “and now you have my heart, Lepis.”
Without meaning to he closes his eyes once more, sinking until the bottom finally rises up to meet him. Softer than any landing had the right to be, the feeling swells in his chest to near bursting. “Is there anything else you’d like?” He croons gently, shivering along with the sensation of her tousling his mane.
![[Image: Wolfbane2.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/601918740845559818/696502662816071770/Wolfbane2.png)
![[Image: 3bCHvj.png]](https://img.nickpic.host/3bCHvj.png)
