I take what’s mine and then some more || Lepis ||

[Wolfbane]

My dreams have all come true

Brittle are the bonds which once seemed so iron-strong, now that Arthas has come to acknowledge the truth of Lepis’ whereabouts through clear eyes. “This is how life happens,” Wolfbane reminds himself, like a teacher scolding the ignorant youth, “I made a selfish choice, I put myself and my desires before Loess and now the sour fruit of that seed is ripe to bursting.”

But he doesn’t feel guilt. He never will.
He only understands the concrete ways of actions folding into reactions, that falling in love with Lepis had started so long ago and now the torrential wave is going to sweep up his mercenaries as well. Love and shit, mistakes and enemies all swirling together in the muck he’s single-handedly produced. “It feels good.” He notes silently, careening down from a bleary autumn sky to soar within plain eyesight above the stretch of Loess territory. All the shit, love, and mistakes felt good because for God’s sake, it’s what he’s privately wanted all along. To tear up the flooring of this kingdom and to lay a better, stronger foundation in the wake of annihilation.

He might finally get his chance to sink elbow-deep into destruction, but that’s something to be discussed with his mate, among other topics pushed aside for the benefit of their combined sanity.

Lepis had always been a source of infinite clarity and Wolfbane needs that side of her now more than ever.

So he flies. He’s been flying since he left Arthas at the border, partially to clear his head and partially because he’ll come across the cotton blue, perlino mare quicker this way. Below him the expanse of ever-changing topography slowly passes, reduced to tiny replicas of trees, shrubs, and stony hills from where he stays aloft some hundred or more feet above. The closer he dips towards the earth, the faster it reels out of control, spinning itself into a wild blur of motion when he comes low enough to skim over the tops of some higher rock formations. Were it not for the conversation he’s just had, Bane might be tempted into a bit of aerial practice …

Yet he remains steady, focused. Both his navy-banded forelegs are tucked close to his girth area and his heels trail out from behind, so wind-whipped that the bone-white banner of his tail can’t be felt flapping over his skin. His narrow, sharp wings (with tips so long they almost don’t make sense) flick subtly, teetering him sharply from one side to another without much effort on his end. The Pirate Lord has always prided himself on his personal ability to suck speed right out of thin air and it shows, clearly, though for a brief second he laments that his wings aren’t a tad broader and a bit shorter so he might be able to coast for a few more hours.

The exertion of such a trip forces him to bank and land sooner than expected, somewhere near the mountainous west of his home. It’s familiar enough to him - the stone spire nest he’s claimed for his own isn’t far from here - it’s just that he’s not looking to sleep or recoup in the rainbow-colored springs they hide. He’s looking for Lepis, whom he has yet to catch a scent of. With a resigned sigh, Bane trudges ahead and tucks his appendages back over his spine, hoping that soon enough luck and good timing will bring out his beloved Queen.

Like all good nightmares do

@[Lepis]