He was back in action, and oh did it feel good. The potential activities that laid themselves bare at his feet were endless, all because the little fool had gotten them into a position of power. Of 'responsibility'.

Of delicious change.

He really should thank Altan, honestly. If it wasn't for the man's pathetic social nature, he never would have found himself near the very top of the food chain, in a position where he could not be challenged. Where the only ones in his way were Gaucho and Tandavi. It was enough to curl the blacks lips, but he kept it to careful amusement. Let them see their 'popular' Altan for now. He was patient. Oh, so patient. He could feel Altan rebelling, fighting to regain control of the body they shared. And he let him flail, laughing at the pitiful attempts.

It was his time now. The true Morningstar. Bucephalus the Deceiver, the Betrayer, the Silver-Tongued. Let Altan, the Pitiful, the Dancer, the Cowardly... let him try to undo what Bucephalus would do. Let him try to fix what the Morningstar breaks.

It wouldn't matter in the end. For all his efforts, Altan would soon fade away, weaker than the being that drove their body forward across the desert sand.

Darkness fell over the sands by the time Bucephalus came to the place he sought; a small rise overlooking the sea, sheltered by a scraggly tree. This was his place, his spot to plan and think and scheme. Scheme what? Why, anything and everything that would leave this world bathed in blood and mayhem.

Oh Gaucho, if only you knew the serpent you so quickly threw through the ranks. The question was: What would this silver-tongued snake do with his power?

But the sound of wings hitting the air disturbs the black before he could even begin the train of thoughts that lead to his plans, and golden eyes gazed up at the sky to search for the source of the noise that grew louder and louder. And when his gaze landed upon the curved form that flew closer...

It was all he could do to not grin like a wolf.

Megeara. Gaucho's closest soldier. Oh yes, he knew her. He watched from Altan's eyes at night and at passing during the day. As he watched her near, his mind wheeled with thoughts, with plans, faster than a whirlwind as half-built ideas where examined then thrown aside like trash. When she neared enough, he greeted her with a friendly nicker, giving nothing away to the thoughts inside.

Let them wonder at what the Morningstar would do. At what he would become.

"Altan's speech."
"Buce's speech."

@[Megaera]

Night patrol. It was a soldier’s duty but Megaera was running herself ragged. Since her return with Gaucho from Sky Island Meg had been restless, unable to settle back into her normal routine, She cruised along the borders night and day, allowing herself only small stretches of sleep when she knew that the land bridge was being watched by one of her battle brothers. The unicorns had accused her sultan of murder and had let him leave for lack of enough damning evidence, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t come and try again, so Megaera watched.

Great strokes of her wings carried her above the stony shore, sharp eyes keeping a watch in the darkness for any movement apart from the ripple of waves. There! She spied they dark figure beneath a scrawny tree and immediately changed course to head towards the spot. The friendly sound reached her, and her eyes could finally identify the form if the Dragon’s Throat Chancellor. Bucephalus, that was his name wasn’t it? Megaera had only seen him once, at the gathering when he’d been promoted, but other than that knew nothing of the beast. Well, next to nothing… Gossip through the heard indicated that he’d only been here a few seasons and already had a few foals to his name. But what on earth would he be doing out here in the middle of the night?

The warrior landed in a spray of rocks and sand and then moved and her usual brisk pace over to where the stallion stood. It was curiosity rather than suspicion that drove her, and so when she spoke, her tone was amiable enough for someone she’d never met properly. “Chancellor.” she greeted with a quick dip of her head. “What keeps you out so late? Is anything amiss?”

He waits patiently as she descends, and walks towards him with a brisk, buisness-like stride. Her amicable greeting, however, rather surprises him, and he cannot stop the faint tilt to his head. "No...nothing is wrong. I was just out checking on the herd, then came here for rest." He gave a light shrug, the golden glow of his bags dancing across ebony hair with the movement.

The black's gaze focused back upon Megaera, his ears pricking towards her as his mind slowed to a halt, a wonderful idea springing to life in his mind. It was all he could do to not grin with all the wicked intention in his heart. He kept his face polite, friendly, open and curious, as to not arouse suspicion within this mare. "What brings you out here? And please, call me Bucephalus."

His gaze quickly flickered over her form, assessing and studying, before he settled his eyes upon hers. Before he could begin...he would need to study this mare, pick out her weaknesses and strengths, how she could be twisted to suit his needs and how he could best go about it.

For his position was precarious, and he had few to no allies. At a moment's notice Gaucho could topple the Morningstar from his pedestal and send him crashing to the ground, back to the bottom ranks of the base herd members. And there was nothing Bucephalus despised more than such a shame. So he could not allow that to pass, it wouldn't do. No...

It would not do at all.

"Altan's speech."
"Buce's speech."

@[Megaera]

The stallion answered as politely as he’d been greeted and the warrior gave an approving nod at his confirmation that nothing was out of ordinary. Meg noted his appraising gaze but though nothing much of it, even returned it. She was curious about the Chancellor. The only bit of information that she’d picked up from the talk amongst the herd was that he a risen quickly through the ranks. She had no reason to suspect that there was anything wrong with this arrangement, as the warrior trusted in Gaucho’s judgment. “Meg, of the Sultan’s Corps” she offered her name for his with a tired but alert smile.

“Patrolling the borders.” She answered simply but identifying the task she’d set herself to worked to pull at the agitation and fatigue in her. Her head swiveled to glance north, even this short pause was making her anxious and she let out a clipped sigh. “There hasn’t been any sign of the Northerners but I definitely don’t trust that they’ll be content keep their distance.” A bit of the anger and fear crept into her voice at the thought that the horned contingent might still come after Gaucho. It didn’t occur to Megaera that Bucephalus might not who what she meant by that. Surely, he had to have heard what happened in the island. It had been so consuming in Megaera’s mind that she assumed it was in the herd’s even if none of them had been there to help defend their Sultan. The bay sighed again, and barely suppressed a yawn. She was tired, had been flying for hours and planned on flying a few more before the night was done.

Sultan's Corps? That was new. Her smile...it is tired. Alert, yes, but tired. It was the advantage he had been seeking, the niche for his foothold in her mind. Question would be...just how much fun would he have with this mare? What could he twist her to do? To better suit himself...or this little herd?

His head tilted when she spoke of Northerners, mild confusion on his face. "The Basin...yes? I thought we had a sort of truce with them...although it is wise of you to patrol, especially against those that had attacked before, and been enemy for so long." His tone is approving, and he dips his head to her. "Good work on that. Since you're not reporting any sort of activity, guessing it's been quiet?"

Little escaped his keen ears; if the herd was talking, he was listening. It was his duty and pleasure. "If so...care to walk with me? I've yet to properly meet you, and it seems a fair enough night for a friendly chat." His gold eyes are curious, sharp.

It gave away nothing to his thoughts within. Even Altan kept a secretive persona, and whilst he was far far friendlier, both of them were alike in the aspect that one only saw what they desired you to see. It amused the black to no end, how similar he and his mental roommate were, and how blind Altan was to the similarities.

Their only difference, truly, was how far they were willing to go.

@[Megeara]
"Altan's speech."
"Buce's speech."

With all of the warrior’s mind bent on the threats that might have been coming from outside to her borders, she left no space for the thought that any destabilization might take seed from within. She was not unintelligent, but he battlemare was far from wise. As loyal as she was fierce, this loyalty to lord and land was rooted so deep, was so fundamental that she assumed it had to be shared by any that called Dragon’s Throat their home. Whatever gods made the world had fashioned Megaera for honesty and action and given her none of the cunning craft.

Bucephalus didn’t even constitute a blip on her metaphorical threat-detection radar. Gaucho would never elevate someone who didn’t have the herd’s interests at heart, and if Gaucho trusted so did she. When he spoke amiably, even offering some approval, Meg slid easily into the companionable treatment she might have shown any of their desert kindred. “Yes, all is quiet tonight.”

She looked back towards the shore, trying to settle herself with the knowledge that other warriors were watching as well. She’d be no use dead on her feet if anything did happen, so a short rest would probably be the best course. “I’ll walk indeed and rest my wings a bit, but I should not linger long. I’ll need to report to the Oasis in an hour or so.” Friendly was her speech, but it lacked the deference that others might have given to his title. In theory, this unknown stallion was on equal footing with Gaucho, but Meg gravitated to strength and as far as she was concerned Bucephalus could flex all the diplomatic muscles he pleased but he was not the Sultan.

She settled herself into walk beside him, and started with a getting-to-know-you tone: “So, how long have you been in Dragon’s Thoat? You must have come during my absence or we would have met before.”

Notes:Sorry for the wait! I throw myself upon your mercy!