Victorious Homecoming [Tingara and Herd]

[Tiggs]

Where the Gap turned to trees and the grass was patchier, a small band of mares grazed. The reason they had chosen this spot was that was secluded and as far away from the men as they could get. The men were lazy this season, only out grazing their cattle and not too interested in chasing down brumbies. Last year’s brumby run had taken care of that.

Crayola was one of the mares, a spotted mare with a yearling filly at foot. Her sides were starting to widen where another foal was growing. Crayola loved foals, and had not failed to conceive once since Tingara became her stallion. Her current yearling was a strangely-coloured filly, primarily white with the occasional bay peeking through around her joins and face. Crayola nickered to Castelle often, reassuring her daughter and occasionally playing when she had the energy. Mostly Crayola grazed, knowing that feeding well would produce a healthy foal.

The group of mares had been alone for a few days now while Tingara was away negotiating with another stallion. Crayola was not to naïve to think this did not mean a fight was brewing – the Gang-Gangs hinted at it enough – but she stayed calm while her stallion was gone, sure in herself that he would return soon. To think otherwise was beyond the sweet spotted mare.

[tingara]

The great black King, the victorious, did not prance down the slope that led to the grassy valley of Dead Horse Gap. Instead he limped solemnly but his head was held high. He had won but he was in pain, Nevada had been a strong opponent and had delivered some brutal blows of his own. Tingara leant on the blue roan mare at his side for support, Myrrina was home once again. He called out to the mares that were hidden amongst the trees and like wraiths they emerged from the darkness of their cover.

Two days of constant, silent travel had left the black stallion exhausted and, as he felt the soft snowgrass underfoot, all he could think about was collapsing onto it and sleeping for days. Crayola, kind, sweet Crayola was the first mare of his he spotted and their reunion was filled with soft and happy nickers on the stallion’s part. He had missed her and all her warmth. He nosed her belly and how it was becoming once again swollen with foal. Of all the mares he had ever met and held she was the best mother of them all.

“Crayola,” he whickered softly, “I am back and not alone.” Tingara turned to look at the mares and fillies that he had taken from Nevada. He was unsure of what to do or say for he’d never taken from another stallion before. He already knew where Myrrina and Brael stood with him but the rest he was unsure of. He whinnied to them kindly, willing them to make themselves at home here on the Gap. Durroon, the oldest and wisest had told him they feared him, how could he redeem himself in their eyes? How could he prove to these new mares he was not someone to fear, that he was a good stallion and not some brute like Garrong or Maluka?

“Please, come closer, I will not bite and nor will the other mares of my herd,” he whickered gently, beckoning to them. Over the past few days he had learnt their names and each and everyone was beautiful but so shy.

[Tiggs]

Crayola turned at the call and neighed joyously. She loped over to Tingara, her gait strange with the extra weight, and nuzzled his face. “Oh, you’re all hurt!” She exclaimed, sniffing at his healing wounds. Another mare must have seen to them already but she crooned over him and sought out every scratch and comforted him at every bruise she skimmed across that made him flinch. Only when she was satisfied she’d found and seen to all his wounds did she turn to see the multitude of mares that had came melting out of the brush.

Crayola couldn’t have been happier. Short ratty tail wiggling like a happy dingo pup, she greeted them all with friendly bumps and nuzzled, squealing in pleasure at the sight of more foals. Since Kurrin had left, she had only Castelle to quell her mothering instincts, and then Werrilah when Tingara had come back deflated and mourning the loss of his favourite mare. She had looked after the distressed young colt to the best of her ability, and she was a little disappointed to see Myrrina as it meant she would have to give the yearling colt back.

Nevertheless, she maintained her chirpy exterior and nickered curiously to the younger fillies. Many of the mares she noticed were showing signs of foals too, which only made her more gleeful. More foals! The rotund spotted mare continued to make her rounds, greeting all the new faces with equal enthusiasm and recalling the familiar faces of Jannali and Kala. Even Taworri and Brael were hard to forget after their brief stay with the herd the year before last. She met them all with polite snuffles, unable to contain her excitement at so many new friends.

Next to Jannali, a blue-black yearling filly peered around with equal parts curiosity and fear. These were all new places and faces for Quinja, and the black stallion in particular was intimidating. She stuck close to her mother, unsure of what to make of the friendly spotted mare. Her gaze kept wandering to Tingara, their new stallion. The wariness of the other mares was infectious, but she was curious nonetheless. Nudging her mother once, she sneaked through the mares to peer at Tingara from around Durroon’s broadening side.

He was slimmer than her father, but in contract he was coal-black and taller, with a shorter mane and tail. Aside from beating her father in a bloody duel, he had not done much else to scare her but Quinja maintained her caution around the strange stallion in case his temper changed as he slowly healed his wounds. With a nicker, she turned and pranced back to her mother’s side where she dropped her head to graze, eyes and ears darting around vigilantly.

[yaruka]

At the back of the mob of mares walked a relatively tall blue roan mare, keeping close to the dark grey filly and chestnut roan who walked beside her. Her ears flickered uneasily, but other than this small sign of discomfort her exterior displayed detachment, almost to the point of standoffishness. Those who knew her better would realise that Jannali was hurting dearly inside, and full of concern, but to those who didn't know her that well the blue roan was a wall, letting none but her daughters and half-sister into her reclusive bubble. As Tingara came to a stop, she too halted, refusing to move any further closer to the front of the little mob of uncertain mares. For nearly two glorious years she had run with Nevada, the stallion she had come in search for when she had turned three. But now she was nearly back where she had started from, with Tingara. She wondered what the black stallion thought of her, and perhaps more importantly of Kala. For they had both left him, though Kala had left with his foal at foot whereas Jannali had never borne the black a foal. Sighing softly, she thought of her proud grey stallion, strongly resenting that she had been forced to abandon him in a time of need. Someday she would return to him. For now she would just have to deal with what she had, at least she still had Kala, she did not know what she would do with out her half-sister. Flicking her ears with the faintest show of interest, Jannali heard the black stallion greeting Crayola, recalling the only friendly face she had encountered amongst Tingara's original herd. Beside her Kala also pricked up her ears, in those months of lonliness without Jannali she had come to depend on the the appaloosa constant aura of happiness. The appaloosa pushed her way among them, Jannali merely nodded to the older mare, but Kala reached forward to give her a brief nudge in greeting. Beside the red roan was a bright chestnut filly. After the initial shock of the bloody battle between Nevada and the stallion she know knew to be her sire, Wyralla had returned to her usual boisterous attitude. She gazed about her interestedly, squealing in delight and chasing after Quinja as the grey filly moved forward. She stopped her advance when Quinja returned to Jannali's side, but stood with her ears pricked forward eagerly. Nevada would be ok, and what a new adventure this would be! Spinning around, she danced back over to her mother's side, bumping her with still tiny nose in an attempt to cheer the pale red roan up. Kala nuzzled her filly gently, then returned to her search of the faces of Tingara's herd below. But to her disappointment she saw no black colt, no mini Tingara. She wondered if she would ever see Biangri again.
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Taworri stood nearer the front than the roan sisters, just behind Durroon. Her head was uncharacteristically held low, for the gentle mare was still in grieving. She burned with concern for Nevada, for how would he fare all by himself in the High Country, injured as he was? She still felt the sting of his recoil from her touch when she had attempted to clean his wounds, though she knew this was likely more from his bruised pride than a reaction to her soft touch. The delicate moonfilly raised her head half-heartedly at Crayola's greeting, nickering softly in response to the appaloosa's insistant nudging before lowering her head once again. Tingara's nicker caught her attention, and she flicked her ears in acknowledgement of his words. No, she did not believe him a cruel stallion, she did not fear for herself or her friends and daughters. But she couldn't quite erase the image of his hooves pounding on Nevada's white hide, or the sound of his angry squeals as his teeth ripped at Nevada's skin. Shuddering softly, she stared at the ground as her youngest daughter pressed closer, in an attempt to comfort her dam and draw strength herself. For Biara was afraid of the black. He had nearly killed her sire after all. She trembled at his words, regarding him with distrust.
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Boorana was more concerned for her sister and dam than herself. She'd be ok, she was pretty sure. But Taworri and Biara were much more emotionally sensitive than she who tended to bounce back from whatever hit her. Not that she didn't worry, it just didn't eat away at her like it did the others. She stood on Durroon's right side, watching the black talk to her mother's friend, her eyes gleaming defiantly. How would he treat her, the daughter of his rival? Only time would tell. But if he made one wrong move towards her mother or sister, well then the stallion would be in for it. Somehow the little filly would make sure of that.
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Bindaree was likewise concerned over the King's reaction to the offspring of his oppenant, namely herself, Boorana, Biara, and Quinja. She felt the older mares would be ok, she knew enough about stallions to know that her mother and the others made up quite a prize for a stallion. But as fillies the rest of them were too young to be anything but a burden for the now. Protectively, she stood by Quinja, watching the black stallion with a silent, questioning gaze. What did he mean to do with them?
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Luz had not said a word to anyone since the battle a few days ago. She still pressed close to Kirrkie, looking to the pinto for any sign that she was ready to flee. For the shy blue roan was more than ready to give up on stallions for good, and disappear into the brush with her friend.
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Wirruna had been standing someways behind Crayola when Tingara's homecoming neigh had rung out. Not native to the bush, she had had only an inkling of the danger that Tingara may have been running into, or the change that would have descended over them all had he failed at his attempt to win back Myrinna. Nonetheless, she was happy to see him return and, like Crayola, made her awkward way over to the stallion, though at a much more laidback pace. The pinto mare was pregnant with her first foal, and was full of excitement and nerves. She did not wish to risk any harm to the little creature growing inside her. She reached the crest of the hill, bumping Tingara's nose in greeting before lifting her head to gaze curiously at the newcomers.

[Corowa]

Myrrina had followed her mate through the rough country of the upper Crackenback, back to the wide snowgrass slopes of Dead Horse Gap. When the scrubby timber of the Crackenback merged with snowgums and white candleheath, the mare had felt she’d returned. The aching loneliness within her was stilled; for no more did longing pull in her veins, drive her to near madness. There was a strained look about Tingara, as though he had suffered greatly, and he would perhaps never forget the terrible fight, for always he would carry those scars. Yet, neither would Myrrina forget the noble grey stallion, with whom she’d run for one long winter.

Werrilah was grazing in the shallow grassy basin when the wind shifted and a currawong stirred in the snowgums with a sudden joyous warble. Throwing up his head, his nostrils quivering, the white colt stood listening. Then there, stepping lightly through the fringe of snowgums was Myrrina, and with a shrill whinny, Werrilah sprung away at a gallop. Squealing, whirling, striking, mare and colt greeted each other. Rearing up, he flung a foreleg over her neck and the mare turned and nipped him playfully. Dropping to the ground, the colt could barely stand still while Myrrina sniffed his flank. Reassured he was hers, the mare blew softly through her nostrils and then gently nosed him.

Clinging close to Myrrina’s side, Werrilah looked on with pricked ears when the shadowy mob of mares drifted slowly over the snowgrass flat towards them. There were so many beautiful fillies, daughters of that fierce grey stallion, and the colt felt filled with all the foolish pride of youth. With a shrill whinny, he trotted towards the mob, particularly entranced by a fine brown filly. Aware of how he glistened silver in the sunlight, the colt pranced gaily there on the white carpet of snow daises, inviting the filly to play with a teasing call.

OOC: Werrilah’s going after Boorana if it’s not clear. About time he got some filly action!

[Ehetere]

Muyan post:
Muyan lifted her head and flicked her ears forward that the sound of a large group of horses approaching. Tingara had left her and the rest of his mares here in dead horse gap while he went off on some errand; probably to go and get his stolen mare back. Tingara had been a very sorry sight indeed when he returned from the Crackenback without Myrrina. He would not be comforted in anyway, and had moped all through the remaining winter. Muyan’s heart went out to him, but there was noting that she could have done; not even the kind hearted Crayola could cheer the black stallion up.

Now it seemed that Tingara had returned, and Muyan sighed with relief as she saw him emerge from the bush. But he was limping and covered in cuts; looking even more sore than when she had met him. Crayola let out a joyous whinny and went forward to meet him as fast as her pregnancy would allow. While she snuffled at him and made happy noises; Muyan noticed that Tingara was not only leading his missing mare Myrrina; but also a whole hoard of other mares; including a moonfilly who was standing near to him. Muyan snorted in surprise; it seemed that the stallion who had stolen Myrrina was not such a dolt after all. Tingara had punished him a little harshly though in her opinion - taking what looked like all of his mares. Actually; it was quite foolish of Tingara, she decided.

This was a huge number of horses in one place. How were they every going to find food? How were they going to hide themselves from man? What would they do if they were chased; as she was sure they would be with so many fine looking horses now milling around. They were all sure to be captured; especially once foals started to be born; and they would only slow the herd down further. Muyan didn’t like it one bit. All of her instincts were screaming that this was a very dangerous situation; that she should get away. But how could she; when the King was here? No; perhaps later she would voice her concerns to him; just as soon as the mob of unhappy and nervous looking mares behind him dissipated.

* * *

Kirrkie Post:
Kirrkie could fell the fear in the air from the mares around her. Luz in particular, who had stayed plastered to her side the whole way; appeared absolutely terrified of the black stallion and his herd. Kirrkie was not afraid of stallions; far from it, but she certainly did not want to hang around here for very long. Still, she also knew that with so many mares close to foaling, they might have a better chance of slipping away in the night; since Tingara - the black stallion who had stolen them - but not be so rude to follow a mare that was off to have her foal. Kirrkie was sure she was having one this season; her first, and could easily make the stallion believe that she was off to foal. She should probably leave a few days before she felt that she needed to; to give her plenty of time to put some distance between herself and that black stallion.

But what of Luz? The blue roan mare could not come with her when she went to foal; but Kirrkie also knew that the only reason that poor Luz was still with the herd was because she was there. Maybe they could organise a meeting place… But Kirrkie was still stressing, and had not even considered how much slower a foal would make her and how much more food she would need to find. How could she knew these things; she had never had one of her own before. She was simply determined to get away from the black stallion who she had not chosen to run with. She hated anything that tried to tame her and bend her will so that she would be obedient. Obedient was boring, and she wanted her own say in life. She had chosen Nevada as her stallion because he had not forced her; he had fought not to win her but protect her. This great black brute had simply taken by force; no questions asked. Kirrkie didn’t like his attitude at all. First impressions were very important to her; and he had made a shocking one.

[Illu]

Oh yeah, Brael was right behind Tingara as they walked in. Where else would she be? Okay, so she was a little bummed that Tingara was leaning on Myrrina as opposed to her, but she quickly rationalised that she’d get squished if they tried. Brael was kind of a short-arse whereas Tingara, well, wasn’t.

The journey hadn’t exactly been fun. All of her fellow mares seemed angsty over the swap over of stallions, and Brael couldn’t really fathom it. For one, Tingara was KING, DUH. They should be like, completely over the moon and honoured and stuff that he even saw them worthy to stand in his herd next to someone as mind-numbingly GORGEOUS as herself.

She knew Tingara personally. Nevada had even let the great black stallion watch over his herd before and Tingara had given them all back with not a hair out of place. He’d been nothing less than a generous host. Hell, some of the mares here today panicking about the black stallion had been there and remembered those days, but they were STILL shying like confused filly foals scared of a funny looking rock. The words ‘Tingara’ and ‘brute’ got on about as well as ‘vampire’ and ‘garlic’, but no matter how many times she’d tried to reassure them that, none of them were apt to listen.

Idiots.

When they finally arrived, Brael detached herself from the cavalcade to investigate Tingara’s existing herd. Some faces were new, some old, but she went to greet everyone anyway without a word. Oh hay, there was Cray! She liked Cray. She’d been nice to her foals before. And Valatone. They’d had a laugh or two in days gone by.

Introductions over, Brael glanced back at what the other mares were doing to find most of Nevada’s ex-herd huddled together nervously, and Brael’s high spirits dipped significantly at the sight. Goddamnit, was she the only one actually PLEASED about the new arrangements?

[tingara]

Tingara snorted happily over Crayola’s fussing. She was the third mare to check him over now after Brael and Myrrina. He watched her, pride and love in his eyes as she went and greeted all the new mares. She was truly the most bighearted mare he had ever met. He looked to the new mares’ faces, dejected and downtrodden. They pined for their old stallion, the one he had wrenched them from. Just like he had pined for Myrrina. The black stallion was at a loss as to what he could do to show them that following him would be far from the worst experience of their lives.

For now the King could no longer stand. His muscles ached and his consciousness was waning. He needed sleep and his body needed a chance to start healing itself. No, he needed to check on each and every mare first. Tingara forced himself to limp through the crowd of mares. Aside from the lack of happiness they were all in good health, almost all of them pregnant. He looked at Nevada’s daughters; he would treat them as if they were his own. The black stallion would hold no predjudices against those who were of Nevada’s blood.

Around Durroon peered a curious filly, Quinja Tingara had learnt her name was. She nickered at him and Tingara nickered back softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He sniffed at each and every filly but the one beside Kala caught his attention. There was the faintest hint of his own scent on her; this was the daughter he had never seen. “She is beautiful,” the black stallion said to Kala happily before moving on. A younger blue roan mare and her pinto friend had caught his attention, yet he was unsure of how to talk to them.

The King lamented the fact that he could not dance nor lead his mares on a merry gallop across the grassy flat. He could not show these distrustful mares who he really was. Instead he resigned to standing beside Muyan and Wirruna, nibbling the dark grey’s withers absently. She looked concerned about something. “Pray tell me Muyan what is troubling you?” he asked, now also concerned.

--

Castelle followed her mother happily, greeting all the new horses almost as eagerly as Crayola. All these new fillies meant new people to play with. She'd only had her mother to play and run with for so long and even then Crayola got tired so easy with a foal on the way. Now there were others her own age and who would no doubt have the boundless energy like she had. Castelle called out playfully and ran bucking and prancing through the group of mares. The strangely marked appaloosa willed the others to join her. As far as she was concerned they were all too mopey.

[Tiggs]

Crayola waddled around happily, following Tingara as he moved off to see the dark dappled Muyan. She nuzzled the dark mare, investigating the bulge to her sides. She nickered comfortingly before moving to graze by Tingara, her flank resting against the black stallion’s.

Quinja stared wide-eyed at the strange white filly with odd black and brown splodges. The steely grey scurried behind her mother, peeking out from under her swelling stomach. She gave an inquisitive nicker to the odd filly, and crept out from her hiding spot to investigate. The next time the yearling raced past, Quinja squealed and chased after her, kicking up her heels and racing around the stationary mares. This was a fun game! She chased after the filly, finding it almost impossible to keep up with the crazy thing. Taking a shortcut, she tagged the filly’s tail and wheeled off to lead the chase in a different direction.

The dark roan grey raced past her sisters, inviting them to play. She almost collided with the pure white colt, and had to skid to avoid him. She squealed in amusement, darted around him in a semi circle and rushed back the way she had come.

Crayola glanced up from her grazing to nicker to her daughter, glad she had found a new friend to play with. Leaving them to it, she returned to grazing by her stallion’s side.

[yaruka]

OOC: Luz, Jannali, Bindaree, Wirruna, Biara and Taworri posts are going to be brief as there really isn't much for them to do at the moment.

BIC:
Luz was still glued to her pinto friend's side, watching the activities around her with a wary eye. Once the black stallion looked over at them with apparent interest, but Luz ducked her head shyly and turned away. She wanted nothing to do with the black, she, like Kirrkie, was having a hard time forgetting her first impressions of him.
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Tingara paced about his mares, giving each one a small amount of attention before coming to rest between Wirruna and Muyan. The chestnut and white mare nickered happily to him, nudging him once before dropping her head once again to graze. Crayola ambled over and Wirruna nudged her once before resuming her grazing. She was still a little ways away from giving birth, that much she could tell, but even so she was being concious to get the most nutrition she could.
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Because there really wasn't much else to do, Taworri dropped her head to graze like the other mares, still standing close beside Biara and Durroon. Her teeth pulled at the sweet grass half-heartedly, she wasn't really interested in much. Quietly, she ignored Brael's blatant happiness, careful not to be rude but not cheering up on account of it either. Her cream, and dark honey coloured daughter stood beside her, resisting the strange appaloosa's invitation to play.
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Shyly at first, but with increasing confidence, a willowly blue roan filly stepped from her mother's side, after the rambunctious Castelle and Quinja. Tossing her head, she pranced after the two fillies, seeking to join their game. Jannali watched after her daughter carefully, but saw no harm in the game. They were safe here, for she trusted Tingara enough to believe that he would allow no harm to come to them, regardless of what the fact that they had left him.
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Boorana would have been the first to join in on Castelle's playful romp but for the moment her thoughts were otherwise distracted. A glistening white colt, clearly of the King's bloodline even in spite of his opposing pelt, had caugt her attention. At first she had merely ignored the yearling's showy behaviour, but at his teasing whinny she could no longer resist. Dancing forward gaily, she ducked her head, kicking her heels out in a playful buck. The colt was too young for her,and Boorana herself was still only a young filly, but there was no harm in playing. Or teasing him a little. Striking out with her foreleg, she tossed her head "And who might you be, O' Shining White Colt?" she asked, curiosit shining in her eyes inspite of her best attempt at indifference.
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The bright chestnut filly stood uncertainly as the black stallion sniffed at her. Cocking her head quizzically, she got her first good look at her father. He was kind of cool she thought. But then the other fillies' game caught her notice and with a lighthearted squeal she was off, chasing after the others eagerly.
Kala glowed with pride at the King's words, for she too thought their sprightly filly beautiful. She nickered in response to his words, ducking her head shyly as she acknowledged the reason the stallion was only just meeting her daughter. Kala did not regret seeking out Jannali and Nevada, though she was ashamed to have left the black King hanging.