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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


    Wolfbane;
    #1
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Truthfully, Loess has always been a strong and active kingdom. It possesses an air of power and wealth that so few other lands can attain. Quietly to himself, Castile chuckle . Nerine under mother's rule wasn't even quite so formidable.

    And with strength and power, of course, comes responsibility. Much to his relief, however, Castile is able to share the weight.

    There have been many nights since the destruction of Tephra. Admittedly, he could have addressed each and every one of them immediately following, but instead he withdrew to his cavern to mend his wounds. It allowed their numbers to recover and cope. It was time to heal.

    But the hump of time has passed and Castile has slipped from his mountainous home multiple times to visit their neighbors and to see Loessians still holding true. Today, as the sun kisses the sentinel, he once again descends from the cliff ledge with his draconic wings spread wide. Autumn has finally appeared, cooling the warm, summer temperatures. There’s a subtle briskness in the air that fuels an additional wave of energy as he eventually descends adjacent to a cactus. The moment he balances and touches down, his wings shed away leaving him bare of his predatory shell.

    ”Bane,” his voice is gravelly and low as he takes a few final steps toward the male, ”I’m sorry.” For his loss, for the war that threw a wrench into his life. ”I’ve refused peace with Tephra. They don’t deserve to relax after the death of an innocent, Loessian child.” Leliana admitted she wanted no further bloodshed or tension, but Castile openly – coldly – confessed that he will not stand in the way of vengeance. She started a war she thought herself in control over, but it slipped from her fingers and escalated. The memories still frequently flash across Castile’s dreams as he sleeps nestled against his family. It could have easily been Reia the plunged to her death.

    He shudders at the thought.

    With pursed lips, he contemplates the progression of their conversation. There is a motive, of course, but his thoughts cannot help to dance around Wolfbane’s silent suffering. ”How is Lepis?” He can’t expect her to be well, not after losing a child, but it’s a tentative question taking the place of quiet hesitation. 


    castile


    @[Wolfbane]
    #2

    ALL THE DOUBT YOU'RE STANDING IN BETWEEN

    This would be one of the few times Wolfbane decided to return to Loess now that the wheel of his and Lepis’ future had been set into motion. He’d come back for Gale, to say goodbye to the sleeping son and tell him everything that had transpired in the time between his passing and the eventual takeover of Taiga. In his mind he can picture the few remaining bones bleached white, nestled into the hard-packed dirt. Peaceful.

    On his journey away from the gravesite is where Castile finds him, weaving among the ancient cacti. The shadow of the dragon-king’s wings blots out the sun and covers the earth for a moment, and in his silent musings Wolfbane wonders if Castile knows that a cactus won’t bloom until fully mature. Some take up to twenty, maybe thirty years. His hazel eyes are admiring one such bloom in particular when the tobiano approaches, calling his name.

    He blinks. Flicks his gaze towards the other horse and marvels at how both of them have come into their own, blossoming under impossible conditions.

    Much like Castile, Wolfbane’s wings are nowhere to be seen. He is only golden skin and the same familiar blue marks. Why or how his body morphs is still a gaping question in his own mind. Most physical changes are emotionally driven. He can only focus on the senses that have been enhanced since his change: a quick inhale tells him that Castile is healthy. The sound of his companion's pulse when he speaks, how it rises and falls, gives away the truth of his words.

    The striped male's vision sharpens and instantly, almost too quick for the movement to be noticed, he watches the stallion’s lips move. “Thank you.” Bane grunts. For caring. For not giving in to Leliana’s false pretenses. “I feel like Beqanna herself is talking about my son’s death but so far only you’ve come to offer condolences.”
    Something Bane won’t soon forget.

    “Lepis is… ” The usually chatty conversationalist finds himself pausing, “ …determined to heal. As am I.” The old saying goes. Each find healing through different channels. Theirs is unique as well. “We’ve never been the type to lay idle. So we took Taiga.” He seems cold and calculated about this sudden admission.

    But then, his mouth jerks into an eerie grin. “Once Sylva is razed to ash, Loess will be central to controlling nearly two-thirds of our known world. Through alliances or otherwise.” And the way he says it means that Castile should take it as an obvious alliance between the northern redwood forest and the Kingdom they both loved like a child itself. “I hope that compensates for not involving you earlier. You seem busy, as all Loessians should be in these quiet hours.”

    He rolls his shoulders and the smile remains, stuck into place by warm desires that he and his mate have nurtured like the babe they lost. “Do us a favor and save a bit of that shithole for Lepis, when you’re through? She fucking hates that place and it would mean so much to see her truly happy again.”

    WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN

    WOLFBANE



    @[Castile]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #3
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
     ”I—“ he struggles to find his voice as the unimaginable sense of sympathy washes over him, ”I can’t even fathom what you both are going through. I’m here if you need anything.” A sigh slips quietly from his lungs as a fleeting glance observes the nearby cactus. It towers high overhead, a sentinel among many here in Loess. For another heartbeat, he stares thoughtfully at the spines before turning his head to again look at Wolfbane, his voice a low but sincere rumble. ”I’ve always considered Lepis family, and in extension, that means you and your children as well.” Pteron, he reflects, still had a small, special place in his heart. The boy was rambunctious and explorative, traits that actually remind him of Ivar.

    Castile fluidly and approvingly allows the passage of conversation to bend to Bane’s whim. They want to heal, he says, and the draconic king nods in agreement before lifting a brow. Taiga has been taken. The process was quick, seemingly effortless, and Castile’s expression reads nothing less of pride and approval. ”Wow. That’s one way to grab the bull by the horns,” he chuckles as a broad smile softens the edges of his face. ”Loess would be nothing without members like you,” they’ve all attributed to the kingdom’s growth and prowess. Their power is expanding now, but not in the way of dictatorship has his mother once practiced. Trust and friendship is slowly, bit by bit, linking many of the lands together. The only downfall is that it will one day bring Beqanna into a peaceful lull until someone moves to demolish the unity.

    For now, however, it’s reassuring and alluring.

    ”Yes, Sylva will burn for their betrayal after I rip apart the mutt,” he pauses to consider the proposition and how near he is to tasting sweet victory (or so he hopes). ”Unless someone jumps out at me as deserving of Sylva. Someone will need to be put on its throne and I would hate to destroy a friend’s home.” He grins again, obviously unoffended by Wolfbane’s tactics. ”No compensation needed. I very much would like to full-heartedly trust you. You haven’t given me a reason not to.”

    There’s another calculated pause, a hesitation.

    The wind tousles his metallic locks and shifts his unruly forelock out of his eyes. ”With Loess’ power on the rise and our numbers spreading to incorporate more land, I still cannot help to want you as our Champion. It would suit you, if you’ll have it.” A lopsided, boyish grin then appears and is followed by a light-hearted comment. ”Plus, I need to find a way to keep you around.” A chuckle punctuates it – an easy roll of laughter shared between friends.


    castile


    @[Wolfbane]
    #4

    ALL THE DOUBT YOU'RE STANDING IN BETWEEN

    Registering on his dark face for a moment, the Dragon King’s surprise puts Bane at ease. It’s not an angry sort of surprise. Wolfbane can see the minute curve of wrinkles around the edge of Castile’s eyes that mean joy and he can just as easily read the tilt of a mouth that says pride without having to say anything at all. Even a horse who couldn’t see the same way Wolfbane saw things would notice.

    This conversation was quite different compared to their first.

    Still grinning, the visitor nods once or twice about the ongoing Sylva battle. Lepis would be happy enough to hear that Castile wanted more or less the same when it came to punishment: death by fire. That Castile hadn’t found a suitable replacement interested the wingless pegasus, though. He personally understands that Vulgaris is dead - or he wholly assumes that, since the last he saw of the stallion was when the viper flung himself into the volcano.

    Litotes is busy in the east. Perhaps Bane should take a trip soon… what about Starsin? The odd advisor he’d never really spoken to but heard so much of?

    All of these thoughts he keeps to himself. They’d come to the forefront of his mind and wiped away his odd little smile in the pause of conversation between them. Once Castile is done mentioning his desire for trust between the two established families, Wolfbane seems austere and composed. Waiting.

    “You’d have a difficult time getting rid of me.” Bane smirks as well. “Either way I accept. Vulgaris held the office better than anyone. He was my friend and confidant… hopefully you and I will be the same.” The stallion wishes.

    In a brief pause that would give Castile enough time to respond, Bane feels something settling to place inside of himself. Something like a circle, binding the two through blood and land that seems to click into itself. A snake eating its own tail, a ring that would encompass and protect all of the horses inside while barring entrance from without. A circle of trust.

    “First Sylva, then what?” Wolfbane wants to know, shifting his gaze towards the expanse of Loessian kingdom. “I wonder about Litotes and how he’s doing. Things will seem too quiet without the threat of war.”

    WITH WOUNDS THAT NO ONE ELSE HAS SEEN

    WOLFBANE



    @[Castile]
    [Image: Wolfbane2.png][Image: 3bCHvj.png]
    #5
    ”Good,” he quips back, blatantly pleased at Wolfbane’s agreement. Their diplomacy will continue to last, their families still bearing a symbolism of friendship and trust. ”I hope for the same.” To be closely intertwined friends, confidants as Wolfbane eloquently describes. It will be a beneficial combination of prowess and power. Lepis would choose only an honorable man as a husband, right? Her heart wouldn’t play a role in betrayal, Castile hopes. Still with a lopsided grin, he blinks and looks ahead into Loess’ future with their developed ranks and established reach. Friends, he muses, a unity built on friendship and trust, not superiority.

    It isn’t the manner in which Nayl would have approached it, but Castile isn’t a warmonger like mother. In his heart, beneath the scales and padlocked prison, there is compassion and a want to rest trust in others.

    Shifting beneath the sunlight – he happily basks in the heat – Castile’s mismatched eyes flicker and return to his comrade’s upon the mention of Sylva. A contemplated furrow of his brows darkens his expression briefly. There has been an abundance of war and bloodshed, but he’s right; it would be so quiet across Beqanna without the expectation of another battle, another scuffle.

    A deep sigh passes through him and is punctuated by a shrug of his muscled shoulders. ”Good question. I’m sure our numbers want some rest and to be with family before the next turn of events,” his gaze softens as he imagines Wolfbane seizing the opportunity to retire to Taiga with his children, minus one, and Lepis. ”That much is owed to everyone. Sylva will be taken back and given to someone trustworthy. We are right now on good terms with Pangea and Hyaline. The Pampas is quiet, and I haven’t heard news from the Cove, or the islands.” And that leaves one kingdom in his sight, one that piques his curiosity but not his hunger. ”Nerine,” a brow lifts as he regards Bane, searching his face for a reaction. ”Will you find yourself conflicted if something were to happen between them and Loess?” It would be a test of loyalty – family and duty – but Castile murmurs a word of reassurance. ”It isn’t on my radar. Nerine was my first home.” Omitting Tephra, that covers everything except an answer to the Champion’s question. ”We can still steal and challenge, even if for innocent fun, for now.”

    @[Wolfbane]




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