DAEMRON + ANY cont from B2G

[Nihlus]

He's been out plenty - to the Tundra and the Meadow, and to the places where no one lives but they constantly travel. He's seen the blue skies and has turned them grey with rain. The people he's met stay in his mind, but they aren't as urgently thought of as his brother and sister. They are constantly on his mind despite the fact that he is often away from them, though when they are together, he is very attached, physically and mentally.

The triplets are snuggled together as they usually are (though they're verging on too large for such niceties) their adventure begins. While Cerva snores gently, her eyelashes fluttering to the heart beat of her dreams, Nihlus stretches his white-bark legs carefully. When he stands without rustling his elder sister, the colt turns to his baby brother. Extending his neck, he nudges Daemron softly, and then more urgently.

"C'mon Dae, we're going on an adventure." Though somber - as usual - Nihlus' voice squeaks with excitement. He knows his brother has never left the Valley, or Mother's side practically, and thus he burns to show him what else there is to live for. Or to die for - but let us not remember Nihlus' darker side today.

When the chestnut arises, both colts set off in the direction Nihlus points them. Their shoulders brush against each other, Daemron's willow fronds mixing with Nihlus' silky black mane. Physical proximity is crucial to any relationships Nihlus makes, and the colt has a rather impudent way of living. Daemron would either accept his brothers touch, or not go on this adventure at all.

When the nameless lands fall behind them, a grin breaks across the small boy's face. The expression fits oddly on his melancholy visage, tilting here and curling there. The chaos of his smile strangely fits however, and considering its rarity, Daemron will probably excuse the volcanic attributes of Nihlus' big ol' grin.

"This is the Meadow. Everyone comes here." Nuzzling the crook of his brother's neck and shoulder, Nihlus grabs at his powers. The once peaceful, sunny clearing because magically thick with clouds aching to release their burdens, and blackening with each moment Nihlus refused their demands. Looking up emphatically, Nihlus continues grinning. "And wherever I go, the rain comes too." He sends a wink - which looks incredibly out of place and awkward - to Daemron. His secret has finally come out - for yes, he is not nothing.

He is the rain.

[Daemron]

He wakes with a rumble low in his throat, caught in the midst of a hunting dream – a manifestation of his connection with the she-wolf who has been with him since birth. His eyes flick open, a brief look of irritation crossing his features before fading with the remnants of the hunt. Yet despite his brother’s urgings, he does not immediately get to his feet, focusing instead on the wolf. Though separated by a fair distance, Daemron could sense her satisfaction – and through the magical ties that bind them, he feels the hunger beginning to ease, almost as though it were his own. He sighs as he gets to his feet, casting Nihlus a roguish look. “I was already on an adventure.” But he bumps his brother’s dark shoulder with the ease of a deep-rooted camaraderie, the offence forgotten as they leave the Valley side by side. Daemron doesn’t think twice about the proximity they share, for they’ve always been this way; his brother’s warmth is a comfort to him. They journey onward without speaking, though the chestnut colt glances over his shoulder now and then in search of his wolf. Nihlus would know – and the thought unsettles him. Perhaps it is because his elder brother never looked back. He shakes out his short willowed mane, dismissing the tension that knots his gut with every step that takes him further from the majority of his pack (wolf, sister, mother, father). When Nihlus stops to announce their arrival with a grin, he hides his relief and looks about said Meadow with an appraising stare, even as his dark bay counterpart pushes into his chest. Idly, Daemron lips at bits of black mane within easy reach. He is about to comment on the ordinariness of the widespread fields when the weather begins to change all too swiftly. He watches the skies grow heavy and dark before turning to Nihlus with a quizzical brow, which turns almost as swiftly to a frown at his brother’s droll wink. “Then let the rain come,” he goads, though perhaps he should have guessed the bay’s secret – for the rain follows Nihlus just as the wolf follows him. daemron trekk § noori WHEN THE SNOWS FALL AND THE WHITE WINDS BLOW, THE LONE WOLF DIES BUT THE PACK SURVIVES

[Nihlus]

there's no religion that could save me

no matter how long my knees are on the floor

i'll pick up these broken pieces 'til i'm bleeding

if that'll make it right

Ever aloof, Daemron’s gaze scours the Meadow skeptically. Nihlus knows that the distance between themselves and the rest of their family weighs heavily on his shoulders, and a knot of his own begins to form. Whatever tension they hold between them, it is forgotten in the wake of their gentle touches and the bond they have managed to forge so deeply. At least, Nihlus forgets it.

At his chestnut counterpart’s goading words, the ebony-bay colt smiles almost orgasmically before closing his eyes and letting the rain fall. It surrounds them, pelting them, perhaps hurting them in its fierceness and his eagerness to finally reveal what has long been hidden. A chaotic laugh splits his solemn lips, adding to the cacophony. His face rumbles with laughter, splitting and coming together in all the wrong places as it always has, as though his skin moves away from the smile in some places and towards it in others. Similarly, Nihlus floats between wishing to pursue to mysteries of life and death. For today, he has forgotten of such things as well.

In a crack of unbidden lightning (for those are not his to control but only to hope for) Nihlus disappears. At least, he’s not where he was a split second earlier. He’s set his flesh afire for the briefest of moments; at least, this is how the shifting feels. The rain soothes the sensation, however, and in a few seconds, a sopping brown hare with glowing blue eyes and bark-lined paws is scuttling about Daemron’s hooves, cute little whiskers and nose twitching enthusiastically. As of yet the boy has not tried to speak, as the thought’s never occurred to him; so for a minute or two, he contents himself with zipping in tight circles around Daemron or shooting between his legs or using them as scratching posts. When he’s utterly out of breath and hopelessly happy, Nihlus returns to his original placement, wet fur all muddled and dirty. With a squeeze of his eyes and a thought, he’s afire, and then, he’s a horse.

Blinking rain out of his eyes, Nihlus allows his grin to stretch and stretch and stretch until it seems his face might break. "What do you think of that, brother?”

Nihlus

rain manipulating, rabbit shifting son of Sinder & Noori