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 "Then why take captives at all?" The question came from the shadows which surrounded them, the darkness that the Edge created with its tall canopies and misty fringes. From it, walked a little mare, unassuming in build and stature, athletic and lean in fitness and musculature, quietly challenging in the keenness of her golden stare, as it bore down on their latest prisoner. Alongside her, walked two stallions, the embodiment of shadow and flame, a display of the internal makeup that was their bloodline. Madyrn and Maskan flanked their little sister, before splitting apart to surround the group, Ink, a bird in the tree, Rafe, a prisoner caught in the middle, with Mirage standing before him, facing him. "Why capture ones who would not fight anyway?" Her accented tones inquired again, though she doubted even the Grey understood the intricate balance that was the Qian, and their relationship with the Throat, the way in which the brothers were stationed at the Foothills as an act of goodwill. But since the Throat was fighting against the Foothills, the brothers would have been forced to step aside and let them fight - their true loyalties laid with the Qian first and foremost. They would not go against their sisters word, even though watching the lands they had resided in for many seasons now being invaded did cause a deep sense of unrest to grow within them. But they did not even get a chance to watch, for they were forcibly removed from the equation, as Rafe had so kindly put it when they followed him to the Deep Forest. They had been foolish to follow him in the first place, they knew that even in their wizened age, they should have known better, but even the brothers of fire and shade were prone to imperfections. "Ensure he makes it to the borders in one piece. I want none of his misinformed carcass upon our lands any longer." The brothers shared a glance at their sister's words - they would get rough only if Rafe proved that he needed further insistence. The blood bay steed was free from captivity which meant that he was now a trespasser. A whisper of a snort shuddered through the dark mare's nostrils, before the magic of illusion swallowed her hide, and she left the care of the prisoner in the capable hooves of Ink, Madyrn and Maskan. larfsalot.deviantart.com |
