Flying Free [Prisma/Yaruka's Boys]

[Tiggs]

OOC: Open for Prisma and Yaruka's colt batchelor herd. Fillies are welcome too!

Standing high on the Brindle, poised on tiers of brown rock, a caramel filly stood. With her chocolate-brown head thrown up to the wind, her flaxen and brown mixed mane and tail streamed out behind her. She had dark legs, and the caramel of her coat was broken by dark barring on the top of her brown socks and a distinctive back bar across her withers connected to a dorsal stripe from mane to tail. She was unique, and she knew it.

Nickering softly, the sound taken away by the wind, she looked down from her vantage to see the young black stallion watching. She tossed her head and clambered down from the rocks with sure-footed grace. Whinnying, she nipped the white-spotted black male with glee and pranced about, showing off her energy. She was Calca, the daughter of a moonfilly and the grey who the gang-gangs spoke about, the one who had fought the King and lost.

“Oh Prisma, its so good to be free!” The two had escaped the men before the winter, and she had followed him all through the dark winter month. Now spring was here, she had boundless energy to expend. Prisma had found them a small grazing patch, interspersed with jutting rocks. No trees grew ups here, and those that did were lonely and warped by constant wind. For cover, the rocks provided hiding places perfect for two young brumbies to fit in.

The King was Prisma’s father, and the rivalry between the grey and black had kept them apart until men brought them together. Had it been fate they had been caught together, or that they had escaped in that freak storm to run through winter together? Calca had decided she did not care. She was happy, and she could think of no better way to spend her time than running with her friend and mate, Prisma.

[yaruka]

Through the rocky tors of the Brindle Bull walked three young horses, two pale greys and one gleaming black colt. The small bachelor band was on the move again, the repopulation of Yarraman's Valley convincing them to move further afield for it would not be this year that the they challenged others for mares. The apparent leader, a peachy coloured grey with mane and tail a dark russet colour, stopped as he rounded a corner, sniffing the air with interest. He could smell two other horses, one male, though he wasn't sure of his age, and one that smelt strangely familiar even in spite of faint scent of men that clung to the two strangers. He thought he could smell Calca, his half-sister, but that was nearly impossible, the men had taken her away, he had seen it with his own eyes. But the scent of men did hang about these two, was it possible they could have escaped? Deciding he would have to see for himself before believing it, Yarran set off at a purposeful walk, intending to check up on his sister before going his own way. The rose grey behind hesitated but ended up following, for he too thought he could smell a familiar scent. At the rear, Biangri tossed his head excitedly, he was sure the male smelled faintly like him, meaning one of his half-brothers was surely nearby. Rounding the bend Yarran stopped again at the sight of the beautiful filly standing on the rocks, just ahead of a black birdcatcher colt. There could be no doubt about it, this was Calca. Whinnying excitedly he trotted forward eagerly to greet the uniquely coloured filly and her mate, the black colt who had once tried to steal her from Nevada's herd before she was ready to leave it. Baree followed, more cautiously and at a walk. For though he now was certain it was Prisma standing above he knew the colt would hardly be pleased at three other stallions charging himself and the pretty filly he held. Biangri had no such concerns, and with an eager squeal, bucked playfully before charging up the slope, passing Yarran, and skidding to a halt infront of the two other horses.

[tingara]

The black and white prince had raced joyously with his mate over the expanse of the High Country. He had longed for her for what seemed an eternity, their courting had been forbidden by the unspoken laws of the King and his rival but now the two young horses were free from both their fathers and the men that had brought them together finally. Prisma pranced and danced without a care in the world with Calca by his side. Their escape had been pushed far from his mind in the winter the two horses had spent together. All that mattered was he was once again free and finally had the filly that had haunted his dreams for so long by his side.

As they neared a peak in the Brindle Bull, the young black stallion stopped and watched his beautiful mate race ahead and stand tantalisingly up high on a rocky tor, her mane flowing in the wind. Calca was truly the most amazing young mare he had ever met and she was his. Prisma’s brown eyes gazed softly at her and in turn she looked back. The grace in her jump and step mesmerized the young Prince. She nipped him and pranced away with the black and white spotted colt not far behind. He could think of no better way to spend his days then running and dancing with Calca.

The pair’s secret dance in the Brindle Bull was suddenly interrupted. The smell of other colts made Prisma squeal angrily as he wheeled around in an attempt to catch sight of his potential threats. Just as quick as he’d smelt them they appeared. Instinctively he positioned himself between Calca and the bachelor bimble. His body language changed instantly when he saw who it was. “Biangri, Baree and you, Yarran isn’t it?” he called out happily, greeting his half brother and adopted brother with a half-rear before cantering to meet them.

“I have not seen you in so long brothers, what news do you have for me? I heard that our father finally beat the brute Nevada, no offence Yarran, is it true?” the appaloosa colt questioned excitedly before realising he wanted to show off Calca. He whinnied softly to her to get her to come over and meet his brothers, her brother he had already met with Burnum. “I would like you to meet my mate, Calca. Calca these are my brothers Biangri and Baree.”

[Tiggs]

Calca turned at the sound of other brumbies. Spotting a group of colts, she instantly tensed. Then she saw one of them was her brother Yarran, and from Prisma’s similar reaction, she realised he must know the other two. She called excitedly to Yarran, just about to run down to him when the youngest of the trio, a black colt that looked terribly like Prisma without the white spots came charging up.

The silver grulla squealed and tossed her head, dancing around him warily to greet her brother. “Yarran!” She nipped his shoulder, standing beside him confidently. “How is bachelor life treating you?” She asked, eyes glinting. Her brother was the same age as Prisma, but she was surprised to see he did not yet have any fillies in tow. She supposed not all colts were as ambitious as Prisma. She glanced over to her spotted mate with warm eyes.

“Yarran, you remember Prisma, don’t you?” She said jovially. Yarran had once helped their father chase Prisma away when he’d being trying to woo her away last year. She had been bitter at them both for that, but she knew it was just the natural order of things now. Yarran had only been acting in her defence – she had been too young to leave with Prisma, but she was definitely old enough now.

Ears forward in greeting, Calca bobbed her head to Prisma’s brothers. “Hello.” She was polite, but inwardly a little wary. The dark colt Biangri was too young to bother her, but the pale grey, Baree, was the same age as Prisma and unrelated to her. She judged him critically for any signs that he was interested in her. She hoped that wouldn’t make a divide between the brothers, she’d didn’t want to be the cause of any trouble.

[Ehetere]

Dilkera trotted happily up the slopes of Brindle Bull in search of some nice sweet grass… and other brumbies! Since her disappointing run in with the strawberry roan stallion Nandalie and his herd, Dilkera had been a little downhearted, after being promptly left in the middle of a conversation. Her feelings had been hurt, but she had not decided that it must have simply been because the stallion was a little too busy to have a pleasant conversation with her.

The sound of voices met her ears; and it was if they were most finely tuned to the sounds of conversation and nothing else. She twitched her ears, picking up the ebb and flow of voices from somewhere up above her. Excited, she began climbing up through the scrub and trees; towards the potential of new friends! She did not even stop to think that she may not be welcome or that there might be danger, instead stepping boldly out to find five brumbies. Four were colts; one was black with curious white spots, there was a peach grey, another plain black and a grey. The filly that stood behind the spotted black colt was particularly unusual; with a colouring that Dilkera quite admired. It was very pretty; but she especially liked it because it was different, like her own.

Dilkera whinnied in greeting to the group of brumbies; unconscious to the slight tension in the air. She was not privy to the needs of colts to gather herds, or of the competition between them for the prettiest fillies. All she knew was that most stallions would quite like her for their herds; which is why being ignored by Nandalie made no sense to her. Anyways, she decided that perhaps she should try to settle down and find herself a stallion; and colts were so much more fun to be around than serious stallions. Dilkera liked the spotted black colt best; since she thought that he may be an appaloosa liker too. Dilkera liked the idea of leggy black and white foals following her around; since her first foal had simply been a chestnut.

[yaruka]

At Calca’s warning squeal the black colt’s face fell, apparently hurt by her reaction. But he soon cheered up as Prisma came over, greeting his two brothers affectionately. “I am well, Prisma,” spoke the black, touching his nose to his brother’s muzzle “And by the looks of things I trust you are too?” Beside him Baree nodded in conformation to the appaloosa’s questioning, “It has been too long Prisma,” he said “And yes, it is true that Tingara has beaten Nevada,” he said, glancing carefully at Yarran as he spoke “We saw for ourselves when the black King returned to Yarraman’s Valley with Nevada’s entire herd of mares and daughters in tow.”

Yarran’s heart warmed at Calca’s eager greeting, he had been so afraid that the filly would not recognize her older brother. Touching his nose gently to her’s, he returned her playful nip with one of his own. “It’s all right,” he commented “I had a bit of a shaky start, what with the brumby run on the same day that I decided to leave the herd. But you seem well,” he said, happy that his sister seemed to be so content. “Yarran, you remember Prisma, don’t you?” asked Calca, and baring his teeth playfully the mulberry grey replied “Of course I remember the arrogant prince,” he said, finishing his sentence with a playful snort so that it was clear he was only teasing. “I’d thank him not to call our sire a brute though,” he said with a toss of his head, “Both stallions fought equally as roughly. Besides, time will tell. I doubt this is the last we will hear of the great rivalry between the black and the white,” he said, with a teasing glint in his eyes. He wasn’t bitter over the fight, pretty much everyone in the High Country had known it was coming. And it had been fair, Nevada had stolen one of the King’s favourite mare’s after all.

“I would like you to meet my mate, Calca. Calca these are my brothers Biangri and Baree.” spoke Prisma, pride clearly evident in his eyes. Both Biangri and Baree nodded politely to Calca. The rose grey noticed Calca’s critical evaluation of him and with a soft snort spoke to reassure her, “Do not fear, dear Calca. I would do nothing to cause rift between my family,” he said, his honestly plain to see in his steady gaze. “I do not wish to attempt to take you from my adopted brother.” Playfully, he butted Prisma with his head “I see I have some catching up to do, however,” he joked “What would our father say if he knew only one of his son’s had a mare? Or have Burnum and Cobalt got a herd? Have you heard from our other brothers as of late?” he questioned, realizing as he spoke just how much he missed his old herd. Biangri listened keenly, he was very much in awe of his older siblings. As a yearling he was really a little young to have left his herd, but the brumby drive had seen to it that he was driven off from his birth herd much earlier than was typical. Still, Biangri loved trailing after Yarran and Baree across the High Country.

All of a sudden the little gathering was interrupted by another brumby, this one a stranger to all. Yarran turned in surprise, having been preoccupied by his pleasant conversation with the others that he had quite neglected to keep an ear out for danger. Abashed to have been caught unawares, he nodded to the newcomer, noting her spotted coat with interest. “Greetings,” he said “I am Yarran, named for the storm and the lightening which flashes through it. May I ask of you your own name?” The grey was quite unsure of what to do in this situation. He had thought it only polite to introduce himself, but now he realised that the other’s may have taken offense that he had chosen to speak first. He glanced over his shoulder at the others, keen to make it clear that he was not assuming dominance, just trying to make some sense out of the new mare’s appearance. He did like the look of her though, it would be lovely if he could have spoken to her by himself, away from the interested gazes of all these other brumbies…not to mention the fact that she apparently only had eyes for Prisma. Oh boy, with all these colts this had the potential for disaster. He hoped this would not get ugly.

Having grown up with Crayola, Prisma and Kurrin, the new mare’s spotted colouring did not surprise Baree. What did, however, was her confident and completely unafraid attitude. He watched her sizing them up, noticing as her eyes seemed to linger on Prisma’s flashy coat. It looked as though Prisma had another admirer thought Baree, snorting softly to himself. He wondered what Calca would think of that. Nodding politely to the new mare, he was glad that Yarran broke the silence first, though noted the mulberry grey’s apparent discomfort. Baree glanced reassuringly at him, he was not offended, someone had to say something after all.

Biangri squealed excitedly at the appearance of another strange horse. He nodded in greeting to her, basically unawares of Yarran’s tension and Baree’s diplomatic response. The new horse was too old for him, that much was clear, but he wasn’t really interested in her in that way. What he was interested in, however, was her lively demeanour. Perhaps this spotted mare would be a new playmate? Biangri missed the company of more lighthearted horses. Baree and Yarran were fun, but always so concerned with keeping an eye out for danger now that they were on their own. Biangri was, as of yet, happily oblivious to that responsibility.

[tingara]

Prisma stayed quiet as his brothers and Yarran spoke, he would much rather have been alone with Calca but it was still good to see his brothers again. ”It most certainly has been too long. If it weren’t for that Brumby Run that swept me away we would have seen each other again,” the black colt mused, nibbling on his mate’s withers. He nodded when Baree confirmed his suspicions; their father was still the undisputed King of the High Country. Prisma thought about the title for a moment, he’d be the King one day he would make sure of it. Hopefully Tingara would step aside and let his heir take the throne if he was still King when Prisma was ready.

He snorted when Yarran called him arrogant; he had every right to be. He was one of the finest looking young stallions around, most certainly the handsomest of the little group before him. The black appaloosa bit back the urge to call Nevada a brute again; having forgotten that he was Calca’s father too. He may have been the sire of the most beautiful mare in all the Cascades but he was still a brute and that wasn’t his fault. He snorted at Yarran’s story; it probably meant Tingara had walked all over the white stallion just as he should have but of course the other stallion would not hear ill of his father.

Cautiously he eyed his brothers around Calca, Prisma didn’t want any funny business but thankfully they made it clear that they wouldn’t be trying anything. They wouldn’t be able to woo her away from him anyway, the two were practically inseparable. There was a reason he had called her his mare. As one mentioned that none of the others had mares Prisma held his head high in pride. He was the first to claim a filly and had the prettiest one as a bonus, he was just too awesome. The mention of Burnum made the black and white stallion sober up a little. Burnum and Prisma had been near inseparable but the black had not seen his blood brother since the brumby run. He’d forgotten how worried he was about the bay roan.

“I have not heard word from either of them,” he replied sadly, shaking his head. The arrival of a strange mare was a welcome distraction. Prisma’s ears pricked up eagerly when Yarran betrayed her presence fully and he saw that she was absolutely beautiful, not as beautiful as Calca though of course. His pride was once again restored when he saw she had eyes only for him. He greeted her with a soft whicker before creeping up to her, his nose outstretched in a friendly hello.

“Hello there, I am Prisma, what may I ask is your name?” he ignored the fact that Yarran had already asked the exact same question, he wanted to learn her name for himself

[Tiggs]

Calca nibbled her brother’s shoulder. “Behave, Yarran, Prisma doesn’t mean it.” She shot Prisma a look, warning him not to pick a fight with her brother. After hearing of all the fighting between her father and Tingara, she wasn’t eager to see her brother and mate squabble. She moved back to Prisma’s side, huffing at the colt introduced as Baree. Why didn’t he want to take her from Prisma? She was glad he did not – no colt was as exciting or handsome as Prisma – but it almost offended the vain filly that not all unrelated colts wanted her for their own.

She nickered to Baree, nodding once in understanding. Adopted brother, though? She would have to ask Prisma about that, he only ever referred to him as ‘brother’. She contented herself to lean against Prisma as he caught up with his siblings, her honey eyes surveying the area. A shift in the wind brought a scent, and Calca looked around for the source.

A brumby mare was approaching, and Calca lashed her tail. The mare was spotted, obviously an interesting colour for any colt. She hesitated before flicking her ears forward in greeting. The silver grulla did not fail to see the way the spotty mare was eyeing up Prisma. She looked at the striking colt in the same way. Not able to fight the jealousy welling, she stepped forward with Prisma as he greeted the mare, making it clear who her loyalties lay with.

It would be exciting for Prisma to build a strong herd of mares, but she was not keen on having another mare around who was as interestingly coloured as herself. She did not greet the mare herself, instead she lurked beside Prisma, oozing discontent.

[Ehetere]

Dilkera was pleased when the spotted black colt spoke to her; even after the peachy grey had spoken to her. “I am Dilkera,” she said proudly; not remembering exactly what it mean, but supposing that it must not have been that significant if she could not recall it. Prisma… it was unusual and very much him in Dilkera’s opinion. Still the mulberry grey had a name too; Yarran. She was very excited to see so many young horses in one place. Surely they would be more light-hearted than a mature stallion?

But she could not help but see that the other interestingly coloured filly stepped forward protectively when Prisma did to greet her. And there was a hardness about her demeanour that made Dilkera want to squirm with discomfort. She was not used to being disliked; shrugged off as an over-enthusiastic filly sure, but not actually disliked! She looked at the other filly with big wide eyes; not comprehending that the other filly might be jealous. Still, a happy-go-lucky attitude had gotten her many friends; so why should it not work now?

Dilkera reached out her nose to Prisma and then turned to the filly and said warmly, “It is nice to meet you too, although I do not know your name. Do you run with Prisma? Your coat is very pretty; your mother must have been very pretty too. I think I would quite like to have a coat like yours if I could choose. Then maybe I could hide in the bush without standing out like the moon in the night sky, and look pretty at the same time.” Bad feeling was something that Dilkera simply could not tolerate. Other brumbies seemed to like compliments too, so she figured that this was the right way to proceed. Not wanting to leave out the other two colts; well that and lose opportunity to talk, Dilkera also asked the whole group, “Are you all a herd? Do you colts all share the same sire? Are your sires and dams terribly exciting? I have not lived with a herd for quite some time now, and cannot really remember my upbringing. I guess that my father and mother were not all that spectacular if I could not remember them properly. I bet all of your parents are very special.”

OOC: Dilkera hasn't talked to anyone in weeks here... so all of those pent up conversations are now spilling out XD!

[yaruka]

Yarran's ears flickered backwards for a second at a Prisma's condescending snort, but at Calca's warning nudge they pricked forwards once again. Snorting amusedly to Calca, he said "Don't worry, I'll behave," a teasing glint in his eyes. But he had no desire to upset his sister, and really didn't feel like fighting for the sake of it anyway. That just wasn't Yarran's style. Even if the birdcatcher colt was getting on his nerves. But his sister loved Prisma, and for that reason Yarran would never harm him unecessarily. Even so, when the appaloosa pushed forwards to ask the new filly the same question, that he had asked only moments before, Yarran felt a flicker of annoyance. He soon forget his irritation, Prisma's question and Calca's actions seemed to open a dam for the filly.

The red colt was slightly taken aback by the torrent of words that now flooded out of the appaloosa filly's mouth. Nonetheless, he nodded politely to her when it seemd appropriate. As the appaloosa finally ran out of words Yarran looked bemusedly at Baree, not quite sure which question to answer first. He decided to attempt all of them. "We are not really a herd, " he began "Though Calca and Prisma aare together and the rest of us colts are a bachelor band. We are not from the same sire, but you could classify them both as intersting, yes. " Certainly no one could Nevada or Tingara uninteresting.

As soon as he finished speaking he was unsure of what to next. He was quite resenting the fact that the filly seemed to be only interested in Prisma, what was it about spots that she found so fascinating? For surely that was the only thing Prisma had that Yarran did not. He contented himself with just standing there, ready to respond to Dilkerea is she spoke again. He was beginning to get the feeling that the filly could carry a whole conversation by herself if she wanted to.
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Baree's eyes glittered in amusement at the pretty filly's reaction to his statement. The fact that she was disgruntled by his lack of interest was plainly evident, reminding him none too little of the silver grulla's dam. He turned back to Prisma and was disappointed to hear that his brother had herd no word of Burnum or Cobalt. But he didn't have time to dwell too much on this fact, for the spotted filly soon claimed his attention as she rushed through what seemed like a hundred questions a minute. Yarran answered her and the rose grey nodded in agreement. "I am Baree," he said "Named for the mountain. Prisma and Biangri are my adopted brothers. It is very nice to meet you." Though the filly was pretty Baree wasn't going to stick his own hoof into the thick of the silent competition that seemed to be brewing in between Yarran and Prisma. It was clear both colts desired the filly, and Baree did not like unecessary conflict. Besides, three colts hanging over her would surely be too much for the filly.
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Biangri watched the filly reel off question after question with open fascination. As she tailed off the colt shook his head to clear it as though punch drunk, amazed that anyone could possibly say so much at once to a bunch of strangers. But Biangri soon got bored as the colts replied to Dilkera, and began to fidget impatiently. He didn't want to talk, he wanted to play!