[private] They all warned us about times like this

[Skandar]

Skandar knew very little of the magician before him. He knew very little of magicians in general (though he had always considered himself to be one in some strange aspect of course; for who could do what he does, if not magicians?), but he has encountered enough of them in mere moments to be aware of what it meant to be in the presence of one. Straia had been the last he had seen in the flesh, swallowed up by Beqanna itself and still presumed missing. Skandar still remains rather emotionless as well as unwavering, merely watching and viewing the scene before him as it unfolds, curious as to what will happen next yet hesitant to stay and discover it.

Besides, this mare means nothing to him and Tephra means even less. He had come for information, to set his blazing eyes upon the one known as Gale, to consume and digest. There is nothing here worth risking his life for, despite the satisfaction, it would give him to see blood (any blood, even his own) if it meant that he could hold the life of a magician by his throat.

But, despite all the rage and the bloodlust, Skandar prides himself on not being stupid - on not being presumptuous or naive. Gale is powerful and the skinwalker has no dog in this quarrel that is worth defending; not yet, anyway.

It is for this reason that the assumed bay stallion takes a single step back - away from Tantalize and Obscene, away from Gale. He hopes that with the black prince and the Tephran magician squaring up before him - dark and unwavering stares, voices as slick and cold as ice - that they would not notice. A hummingbird buzzes yards above them, its wings speedily beating yet silent in their work. His shifting has improved immensely and though the sound of his flesh fluttering and peeling could be loud enough to draw their attention in his direction, all they would find is empty air and perhaps the now two hummingbirds that dart off into the canopy.

skandar

i want to be the bullet
that brings you to your knees

@Gale
@Obscene

[Gale]

@Obscene

i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do ---------- i hope you dream of me Gale cannot quite name the emotion that sweeps out of Obscene. It’s something dark though, and strong enough that as it sinks beneath his skin it sets the streaks of brindle along his sides to glowing more brightly without any effort at all. So the green-winged mare that he’d caught a glimpse of during their last encounter is a pressure point after all. But not a tender enough point that a threat to her would enraged Obscene, Gale thinks. Had he realized that the opposite was true, he might have hunted her down this instant. He does frown - just a little - at the way the black stallion has altered the invitation to catch up with Sickle and Aela in the Pampas to something else, but the low promise to accommodate Gale’s plans returns the smile to his navy face. “Yes,” he says, his voice and expression as casual as the others is malicious, and he nods as though pleased that Obscene has come to this realization. “You will.” Overhead, one of the hummingbirds explodes. He hopes it was the shifter, but doesn’t spare a glance upward, choosing instead to disappear into the fog, no more substantial than the mists that drift through the humid jungle. GALE