Dead. He might as well be, his body though free of serious injury, felt heavy and tired. By his feet the grass grew short and mingled with sand, tree branches quivered overhead, marring the laughing moon who d’Artagnan felt was far too arrogant nestled in her silver warmth. He was stood rather forlornly at the start of the Endless Blue, the left side of his body lit up partially by a nearby lamp tree as his gaze trailed to the floor, mismatched eyes hardening in bitterness. You’d think after going through a prior defeat that it would get easier, yet, who went into battle thinking they’d lose? No, it didn’t get easier, the Nightshade would almost say it got worse. He wanted snow, not sand, he wanted blood… Not the sea. The timeless ocean cursed to live forever, at least blood would eventually run out if you knew where to cut, leaving nothing but a hollow frame of what once was and never to be again. d’Artagnan never understood the beauty of the glittering water as the waves tirelessly rolled up against the shore, yes like the ocean time moved on, but the scenery was always the same. Dull.

A small breeze picked up strands of mane as he sucked in the air through his nostrils, letting it out in a long sigh. He still hadn’t decided what to do, his legs ached to go home, but there was the question of his sons and their retrieval, if he even managed to figure out a way to retrieve them. Sent out to gather information, Aramis, who now laid by his feet with a long pink long lopped to one side of his jaw, had quite frankly told him that the other battle had not fared well. Dragons win. Was all he had said, referring to their enemies companion by nature, but d’Artagnan understood the meaning and had simply nodded. Were Sacre and Roux even alive? Perhaps not, perhaps they were. He did not imagine the Edge, who always seem to speak of their soppy equality when he had the pleasure of running into them in the Threshold, would kill two foals. Even if he had claimed the life of one of their own. Yet, a battle was a battle, anything could have happened. He thought about finding Aviya, his eldest and guiltily his favourite, maybe her young mind might be able to help him. That was if she wasn’t dead too, though the idea of that made him laugh, no that little brat wasn’t dead. He’d of heard her screaming all the way in the Dragons Throat if she was.

Kou would know what to do, but would he have his pride intact after she’d throttled him for not retrieving their sons was dubious and the idea of her angry face was both scary and oddly attractive. He snorted, Mauja clearly knew what he was doing when he placed her under his care, her petite bodice and snide comments had slowly melted his ironclad heart. "Smug bastard." He said to no one in particular as he remembered the spotted Lord who he hadn’t seen for a while, again. His voice was quiet and laced in slight amusement, talking to himself like the mad brute he was. "You always go wherever you want, I envy you that." As if Mauja could hear him. Back to the point, he felt his heart clench and his stretch back, the news he'd heard leaving was that Kou had gone missing. Had the Edge managed to nab his blue eyed lover too before he went to battle? The Nightshade hadn't had the time to snoop around before he'd left, and any suspicious scents left were bound to be covered by now. So where was she?

The shade shook his inky mane and looked down at Aramis, dozing by his feet with his tail curled around one paw. Perhaps it was time to go home where he might be able to find more answers to his problems, but the more he thought about it the more he wanted to drag his feet, after all. All that was waiting for him were long faces and pounding headaches, even if he did miss the snow and the dependable mountains. For now he diverted his anger towards the blissfully ignorant sea as it calmly lapped against the shore and ignored his simmering stare.