Searching for the Neon path || Sinner, Mary ||

[Wolfbane]

As the days grew shorter and winter stronger, Wolfbane watched his firstborn and wife both grow. Pteron was soon to reach his yearling mark, an age not much younger than Bane had been himself when he’d first left Tephra and found Arthas, then Loess. These quiet hours of contemplation - watching Pteron practice at flight, giving him guidance or support when necessary - they take him back in time, reminding the blue-masked stallion of the lessons his own father had taught. Longclaw would be proud, could he but see the fine lineage of his making blossoming into a handsome youth.

Lepis; she’d made Wolfbane a satisfied husband and father once, now she was at it again. When his eyes and attentions weren’t consumed by his pale son, her mate could be found at her side, committed to the now-obvious swell raising around her platinum midsection. He liked to tease the idea of another boy, knowing that Lepis would probably be happy either way, but secretly hopes her wish for a girl will prove to be true. The way she’d gotten so wistful and starry-eyed at Pteron’s birth … short of inciting dark magic, Bane would do anything to satisfy a desire so deeply rooted inside of his partner.

Together the three fell into a natural rhythm, something close to contentment as the Plague and cold drew on. While it would’ve suited the Loessian King to remain in that perpetual state, he knew that a bit of travel might do them good, not to mention that a trip to Sylva was long overdue. That, coupled with a interaction he and Lepis had yet to privately speak on, spurred Bane into action one bright, clear morning. He woke his brood softly, and not long afterwards the trio had begun heading northeast - directly to the skeletal border of Sinner’s territory, where the foliage always refused to shed its color.

“Should we rest?” He questioned Lepis, once they’d put miles underneath their feet and the forest engulfed them in its embrace. Wherever the Hound might lurk it seemed to Wolfbane that he’d sniff them out before they ever took him by surprise. Either that or Mary would cross their path. “I’m not in a rush myself.” The palomino laughed, a bit breathy from the exertion of having to use his legs. Unthinkingly, he reaches out to stroke the dark curve of his beloved’s cheek, watching (feeling) for any sign of anxiety or strain. He’s not sure when she last came to this place, and he’d rather not ask.

It was enough that she was here now, always his rock and steady countenance.

“What do you think, Pteron?” He asks his son last, looking around for the boy who’d disappeared nearly half a dozen times over the duration of the trip. Each time his father had a casual, verbal response at the ready (Relax, focus. Don’t look at yourself for confirmation, try feeling it instead. That’s it - hold it like a breath, flex it like a muscle. You’ll get better, it’ll grow stronger …) “Should we wait politely, or look for someone ourselves?”

King of Loess : Leader of the Southlands

Wolfbane

@[Lepis] & Pteron <3 @[Sinner] @[Mary]
ooc: Kahzie I took a bit of liberty here so if you want anything changed, let me know!