the blight of man, the shame of the divine; any

[Wolfbane]

My dreams have all come true

Democracy has no place in the wilds of Beqanna. Surprisingly, neither does a communistic grasp. Both leave very little in the way of true solutions and the one who speaks a final edict (that would be him, and this would be that final proclamation) usually always ends up in a pool of his own blood with some Brutus or the other standing over him, watching him die out.

Someone inevitably always thinks they can do it better.

Is that someone Arthas, who keeps falling into the traps Wolfbane sets for him? Maybe it’s Sinner, who does nothing and who Bane has only ever seen this once, scrounging back for scraps like a beaten cur. Lepis could probably do things better and she’s quick to remind her feathered mate of that, earning her a sidelong glance of his moss-colored eyes. Wolfbane burns for her and this aggressive stance (which normally would cow other stallions) only solidified his attraction, along with his loyalty. Hell itself had devoured and spit up the lovely, pale mare. Now she wears brimstone and fire like a crown well-deserved.

Sylva never stood a chance. Not the first time he sent his own mercenary brothers there to aid Arthas in taking over, and not now - in the face of certain catastrophe.

Electra’s support is nice. Unexpected but nice, all the same. Noah, however, clears the tumult of their Lord’s thoughts with a surprise power move. She’s got no reason to cast her lot with Loess, doing so puts her in an obviously tight spot, yet she does. Thank you, his gaze seems to say, even though Bane is perfectly silent turning towards the poppy-bright mare.

That settles it, then.

“I respect your decision, Vulgaris.” He begins simply enough, shifting a bit amidst the tangle of grass in order to address everyone gathered. Internally he’d hated the idea of losing his champion anyways, even if it meant Arthas or the wolf in sheep’s clothing, Sinner, would have some semblance of control.

“I gave you your chance and you took it as an opportunity to not only insult my Queen, but to deny the obvious.” Wolfbane inhales on a soft growl, every word intentionally focused on the dappled gray stallion, his once mentor: Arthas. “You’re banned from the southern lands. Your children may choose otherwise and bend the knee if they wish.” the blue-gold drake declares, hoping that this would appease Lepis in some small, imperfect measure. It sure as hell made him feel better.

“And as of this moment, Sylva is ours to protect or parcel out as we see fit.” He exhales in Sinner’s general direction, the white fan of his own straight tail flaring out behind him to insinuate such a decision had not been his own, but Loess’. “You heard Noah and the others. I’ll give you the same chance I gave your fallen leader.” The stout, leggy pegasus grins. It seems only fair, given that Bane desires no further loss on behalf of ignorance.

“Choose wisely.” He parrots himself, both eyes flicking up to burn holes into Arthas skin. His expression screams threat and his wings jostle, close to bursting open. Get out never come back

Like all good nightmares do

@[Sinner]