the motherland don't love you
so why love anything
so why love anything
A
s far as Toulouse was concerned, his time spent in Novus thus far had been relatively quiet. He had listened here and whispered there, picking up names and phrases that he had tucked away for safekeeping. He had sent his shadow to the opposite end of the continent, the better to keep tabs on multiple events at once; and he had bided his time like a snake in the grass, a wolf in the shadows.
He was waiting; but for what, he wasn’t quite sure. The hunger was growing within him day by day, a ravenous beast that called only for the blood it had been denied for so long now. Toulouse had always been the reckless twin, brash and careless and headstrong; it was difficult indeed to keep the bloodlust contained, to hold patience close lest he lost it.
But he swore he could feel the wolf inside of him singing at the sight of the dusted and spotted woman. Her allure was unmistakable; Toulouse was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unaware of the dangers she posed.
”Red Moon, please.” Her voice was nothing like he’d expected, and he loved it all the more for it. ”If you wish to know, you better keep up.” Soft, languid, enchanting - the laughter came easily from his parted lips.
"Oh, I intend to." He went after her willingly, but only after sliding a coin across the bar to its tender. "One for myself, as well, if you please."
It took only a second, as if the man already knew what he was going to ask for. Collecting the rose she left him and his drink, and liking the way she never looked back, he followed.
The burgundy scarves whispered as he brushed past the assorted equines, flowing like suspended blood at his sides. The palomino kept his head craned, horns peeking over the heads of the gathered horses, his eyes scanning their blurry faces with disinterest.
When she reappeared in the shadows, he was quick to go to her. The door framed her like she was meant to be painted onto it, alongside the rose it was marked with. Toulouse holds the rose out in front of him, his smile wicked.
"And where is it you’re leading me? he asked her, but he knew full well it didn’t matter. "I don’t even know your name yet." She could tell him they were going to hell itself and he would dive happily in alongside her. Whatever was behind that door was a secret -
- and Toulouse loved secrets.
@Manon | "speaks" | notes: c;
rallidae
