[private] I will shield you from the darkness when the walls around us quake;

[Wolfbane]

She was nothing like the strange girl he tried to turn away in the Brilliant Pampas. Only her smell, carried on a faint breeze that rustled the few-remaining leaves, gave Wolfbane any indication that Briella wasn’t a complete stranger to him. He stood unusually still and hardly seemed to breath at all, a romanesque statue with hooves planted firmly into the cold soil and only the pale flutter of dappled light winking across his skin to give him any sense of life. The mystery presented to him began to unravel herself while he listened, and Bane (though not entirely warm in her presence) checked his earlier sarcasm in favor of a more relaxed look.

The imperceptible cues of her discomfort - a twinge or hitch in her voice, the slight crinkle of winking sapphire around her feminine mouth or the glint in her crystalline eyes - maybe she tried to the best of her ability to seem unmoved by the suddenness of his ‘unexpected’ presence here, but Briella’s unspoken fear was a palatable thing to Wolfbane. She might be ice and snow to others, a winter beauty searching her way through deadwood for someone Bane hadn’t seen hide nor hair of since the Plague, yet to him she’s a distinct blend of pheromones; part fear mingled with slight hints about her age, bodily health, and so much more.

It’s rare that he finds enigmas anymore, but Briella’s mention of helping the fairies dispel a nation-wide sickness is a great point of interest anyways. Enough that Wolfbane blinks a few times and resumes normal equine activities - moving his legs around, throwing his tail back and forth - in an effort to seem less unsettling. “I admit I haven’t thought much about you since our first encounter.” The winged stallion told her, “You left an especially sour taste in my mouth.” He reminded them both.

“I contracted the plague but one of my less-obvious powers prevented it from taking hold. I was lucky. Your concern about my well-being and my current whereabouts are kind, though.” Bane fended off what (he presumed) were false niceties. If memory served him correctly, there'd be no lost love between himself and Dovev’s headstrong brood. He was more apt to keep his tone level and his affections at arms-length with this one in particular. “And if our world knew more of you I’m sure they’d feel the same for your … help. During the Plague.” If that was what she did - help.

He knows the nature of the mountain and quests given there, which is why Bane had never made the trek himself.

“It’s been some time since then.” The fierce male contemplated, his tentative words accentuated by the occasional flash of navy blue from where his lips moved over the pair of bone white fangs. Children born today hardly thought about what he and his generation had lived through, just as he’d only dreamed of Beqanna’s great slumber and then violent awakening before his own birth. “Where have you been, hmm? You hardly seem a day older than when we first met Briella. Different-looking perhaps, but still the same guarded girl who defied me in a sanctuary under my protection.” He glanced over her quickly, alluding to the stiff attention she gave him.

“Only, no Dovev here to press warm kisses into your cheek.” Wolfbane chuckled bitterly. Oh how the mighty fall…
No Dovev, no witnesses, and sadly for Briella no utterance of kindness from the shifter she might’ve once befriended.

@[Briella]