Denocte glistens like a jewel in the valley below him, the flames of its bonfires reduced to a scattering of lights on the horizon. If he’s still enough, and patient enough, and imaginative enough, he can almost hear the pounding of a drum when the wind shifts. It beats in time with his heart, thud, thud, thudding inside of his chest, echoing through the halls of his veins. It’s a wild music, one that ignites a fire somewhere deep inside of him, a fire that burns and rages, that sings and loves, that makes him want to dance.
He loves it, and he hates it.
He knew his brother would only love it; he had always been the reckless twin, the one that threw inhibitions to the wind and always hit the ground running. He was the wolf, with an insatiable hunger.
But Toulouse was the snake in the grass, waiting for his moment to strike, happily biding his time. They played the same game, but only one of them understood the importance of patience.
Below the lights are still calling his name, with a voice that makes him simultaneously want to lean in closer and claw his ears out. He grits his teeth, green eyes turning back to the mountain path. He stood nearly on the border of Denocte, a stranger from another land. Could they feel him watching? Did they know a snake was on his way to their Court? Did they care?
He supposed they had snakes of their own to worry about, both reptilian and equine. The southern court was a melting pot, home to those from all walks of life. Toulouse had fit right in here the last time he had visited, had pressed a black card into his brother's hand and whispered a tale of the white building in the markets. He was determined to live up to his twin's reputation tonight, and for as long as his stay in Denocte lasted.
A smile slipped into place across his features, his wolfish teeth glinting in the moonlight. With a dip of his horned head and the echo of the drums reverberating through his soul, he stepped back onto the path that would lead him to Denocte. Overhead the stars are smiling, the moon is singing in rhythm with the pounding drums and the crashing waves, and he weaves a dance into his steps. Tonight, like every other night he would play the part of his smiling twin.
the motherland don’t love you
but you love everything
@erasmus
suuuper late starter for you, feel free to intercept him on the trail however you’d like c’:
