the STORM approaches {OPEN}

[{ Opal }]

Thunder clouds rolled up ahead, hanging heavy and black in the sky. The air smelled like rain, warning of an upcoming storm, and world was silent in wait. Upon the wide and grassy plains of the Brolga, dotted with hills and dips, two mares grazed alone. One was a beautiful dappled chestnut, with a crisp white mane and tail, heavy in build but graceful in look. Next to her stood a coal-black mare, with her forelocks streaming across her face, and her tail stretching down to her hocks. She appeared quite ordinary, except for her stark white socks, which were all at even length. Both mares were aware of the approaching thunderstorm, but unwary, as a sheltered copse was nearby, and they were in no danger of flood. So they continued to crop the graze steadily, their tails swishing to ward off flies.

In actuality, Wilga, the pretty chestnut, was a bit nervous as she glanced up at the ominous clouds. But she was reassured by the black mare besides her, who appeared completely unworried, and so Wilga was inclined to feel the same. She had only just met Burilda, a queer character for sure, difficult to understand yet also enticingly intriguing. Wilga, of coarse, was quick to befriend the black mare, who was good-natured in turn. Neither had a herd; Wilga had wandered off recently, to look for a stallion of her own, and Burilda... well, maybe no-one would ever know her history. Comforted by the presence of another brumby, Wilga set her mind to grazing, determined to shake off the eeriness of the still silence.

[yaruka]

OOC: FYI- Kurruk is showy and kind of cocky, but a good guy at heart

BIC:
A pale, sandy dun stallion trotted through the brush, skin creeping with awareness of the coming storm. But he had one spot of business to attend to before taking cover, namely the finding the mares whose scent he had been tracking since mid afternoon. He was getting close now, their scent was much stronger around here, and suddenly hearing light footsteps, he paused. Ears pricked attentively he listened for the chance sound of another stallion. Nothing. Confidently now, he stepped out, walking onto the grassy flat where the two stood with a throaty nicker. "Greetings O'mares of the storm," he said pleasantly, "I am Kurruk, named for the sand on which we stand. May I trouble you to ask you of your own names?" He waited patiently, flicking his long dark tail at the flies as they landed on his pale coat. Since the brumby drive he had been travelling alone, he and his half brother Wingarra had been split up in the great run, and though he'd never admit it, Kurruk was craving company. Making sure to stand so that the last light of sun the peeking through the clouds hit his glossy coat, he waited, hoping he looked impressive to the two solitary mares.

[{ Opal }]

Wilga's head jerked up at a deep nicker, a noise that could only be borne from a stallion. She quickly scanned the area, unsure of where the sound had come from, but then she caught sight of a young dun stallion. Wilga tossed her head excitedly as he approached, for she was glad for some more company, and felt much safer with a stallion about. "Greetings O'mares of the storm, I am Kurruk, named for the sand on which we stand. May I trouble you to ask you of your own names?" Wilga dipped her head in agreement, and promptly replied, "I'm Wilga, named for the gentle willow tree." Meanwhile, Burilda hardly flicked an ear in response to the stallion's sudden appearance, though she did not mean to be impolite. When the stallion, Kurruk, asked her name, Burilda only snorted softly, her trailing black mane covering her eyes like a dark veil. "I am named for the black swan..." She spoke softly, and her voice was taken by the wind, turning it into a whisper. Wilga was looking at her queer, for she thought it only fair for Kurruk go have Burilda's real name, but the black mare only returned to her grazing. Taking it upon herself to apologize for Burilda's behavior, Wilga said, "I'm sorry, her name is Burilda." She wanted to whisper to Kurruk that Burilda was also a little odd, but she feared insulting the mare, and so left the words unspoken.

[yaruka]

Kurruk was pleased by the chestnut's response at least, though the black mare puzzled him and made him feel slightly degraded. As the pretty chestnut looked up and nodded happily he had felt his heart swell with pride and as she spoke her name he had replied "A please, dear Wilga. Youare indeed just as beautiful as the tree for which you are named." Looking to the black expectantly, he had been just as puzzled by the black mare's response as Wilga had expected, and was grateful to the chestnut when she articulated what the black mare had not bothered to say. Nodding to the black mare he said "And a pleasure to meet you too, Burilda, fine as the black swan who gave you your name."He offered his nose gently to each of them before looking about him, now quite unsure of what to do with himself as introductions were completed. "A storm approaches..." he said blankly before lapsing into a sudden silence. Really? He was talking about the weather? How lame. Quickly backtracking he gestured about them as though hoping for inspiration before finally sighing and dropping his head to take a quick bite of grass, allowing his long forelock to obscure his eyes from view, as though he had meant all along to graze and not speak. After a few mouthfuls of grass he raised his head again, cringing internally from embarassment. Ok, so he was bad at this. But he didn't want the mares to think so. After all, he was hot stuff right? He wasn't usually so bashful. It was probably because there were two of them he decided, too much going on at once- it was distracting. Shaking out his mane, he returned to showing off. With a proud arch of his neck he pranced a few steps before nickering "From where do two fine fillies such as yourselves hail?" Ok, a little better. But he was still going to have to work on his sweet talk, this was quite embarassing.

[{ Opal }]

Wilga's heart was warmed by Kurruk's compliment. She was not a very confident mare by nature, and she was pleased that someone seemed to take an interest in her. "Thank you, Kurruk, and you are as striking and determined as your name." Wilga said gratefully and truthfully. Meanwhile, at Kurruk's simple flattery, Burilda huffed a bit and murmured, "I would hope so." She did softly touch his nose when offered, though it was true that Wilga was quicker to do so. "A storm approaches..." Burilda looked somewhat amused at the words, which were quite obvious. "Yes, indeed," she said in unneeded confirmation. Her words broke the quiet for a while, but an uncomfortable silence quickly fell over the group. Now, Wilga was not bothered in the least by Kurruk's awkwardness, but she did feel the need to reassure him. Perhaps it would just be best to ignore it, she thought to herself. It would be even more embarrassing to the stallion if he was getting comforted be a mare he was trying to allure. So she complied patiently as Kurruk worked himself out, ending up doing a small show for them. While Burilda was simply entertained by the whole ordeal, it was Wilga who was impressed, and she tossed her head excitedly. "From where do two fine fillies such as yourselves hail?" Glad that Kurruk had found his voice, Wilga was quick to respond. "Well, I came from a herd around here." She winced; that sounded pretty stupid. "And I, uh, don't know where they are now..." Burilda swished her tail gently along Wilga's flank, and she was reassured by the comforting gesture. It was then Burilda that spoke, though not of where she came from. "Don't you worry about etiquette, Kurruk. We'll come." The words were said with absolute conviction that surprised even Wilga, who make sure to nod hastily in agreement. "Now," Burilda went on, "Shall we take shelter?" She glanced at the nearby copse, which would shelter them from most of the storm's wrath. Looking up, one could see the dark clouds up ahead, which were only seconds away from releasing a downpour. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

[yaruka]

The dun stallion was quite taken aback by the mare's assumption of his motives, "I-ah..." he stammered before trailing off. He wanted to say something to the effect of that he hadn't only been polite to woo them, but he was quite at a loss for words. Shaking his head ruefully, he could only agree with the mare's suggestion that they take cover. "Taking shelter would be wise," he said "For it looks to be more than rain that hovers on the horizon." He stood awkwardly for a few seconds before suddenly realising that they would be expecting him to lead, and starting forward. He quickly regained his jaunty stride, hoping to impress despite the black mare's assurances. He was quite pleased, despite his his uncertainty, that the two mares had agreed to come with them. Wilga was certainly very pretty and sweet, and Burilda was also pretty- though admittedly somewhat odd. But what did it matter? They were two fine mares, and Kurruk was glad of their company.
Reaching the copse of trees Burilda had indicated earlier, Kurruk entered carefully, looking about to be sure there was no danger. He could smell nor hear anything threatening. So with an encouraging nod to the mares (more for Wilga's benefit than Burilda's), he made to settle himself among the trees, ready to wait out the oncoming storm.

[{ Opal }]

Both mares waited patiently as Kurruk hesitated, though Wilga did seem a bit anxious to get going; she thought she felt a raindrop on her nose, and disliked the idea of getting wet. She did trust Kurruk, though, and soon they were on their way, with the pale dun dancing on ahead. Wilga was encouraged by the stallion's perky strides, and she was soon lifting her legs to match, tossing her head back and, in spite of herself, letting loose a sweet and melodic whinny to Kurruk. Burilda watched on from behind, a look of pleased satisfaction on her face. It was quite amusing to see her friend acting like a filly, though she herself felt a bit too old for such play.

The trio made it to the sheltered copse in perfect timing, for as Burilda's long, black tail slipped into the shadows, the throbbing clouds finally let go of their burden. The rain came down so fast and so hard that it seemed like a sheet of water was being thrown from the clouds. Wilga cringed as her ears were suddenly filled with the crashing of thousands of droplets, but she felt reassured by Kurruk's presence, and she couldn't imagine anything bad happening to them with him around. It was an unrealistic idea, but one that relaxed Wilga, and she stepped after Kurruk trustingly. However, Burilda hung back, turning to stare into the steady downpour. Then she followed after the two brumbies, looking like a lonesome shadow within the dark chambers of the forest.

A squawk to her right sent Wilga's head up, though as she realized it was just a pair of Gang-gangs, she let herself slump into rest once more. They had been taking it easy for a while now, trying to wait out the fearsome rainstorm. The day was now drawing to a close, though one could barely tell from the ominous darkness the clouds had brought, and the cascade of tiny raindrops made it difficult to see clearly. Occasionally they would hear the crash of thunder, reminding them of nature's awesome power. Around them the woods was getting soaked, with little rivulets forming and snaking across the muddied ground. The trees were slick with water, their branches dripping steadily under the unrelenting rain. Both Wilga and Burilda were wet and their legs dirty, but they were still grateful to be out of the direct rain, and by huddling together with Kurruk they were keeping quite warm. However, Burilda's interest had been piqued by the Gang-gangs, who apparently had the same idea of getting out of the storm.

Burilda pulled away from the group and stepped toward the two birds, who she could tell where mates. Both were speckled grey, but one did have a bit of a flaming red mohawk, which indicated he was the male. Directing her gaze to him, Burilda asked, "Have either of you heard of a white stallion? Nevada?" It had been a while since she had left the great white stallion; back then he had the largest herd in the High Country, larger even then the King's herd, and he posed a commanding figure in the outback. But Burilda had seen his confrontation with the King in the snow, she had seen him steal away Tingara's mate, and she knew there was be revenge. But what exactly had happened? The question had been burning in the back of Burilda's mind for many days. In response the Gang-gang gave a squawk and he flapped his wings excitedly, accidentally hitting his wet mate, who glared at him. "Oh, oh yes! The white stallion! He had a fight against the King, and I heard it was a good one, too!" The male Gang-gang cried. Burilda's ears perked up with interest. "What happened?" she asked. "Oh, the King won, and took the White's herd. The White was badly wounded, but the King let him live. Do you have news of him?" The Gang-gang asked in return, eager to share some new gossip with his friends. Burilda only shook her head and stepped away, deep in thought. She wondered if Nevada lived; could he have fallen from his injuries? Infection could mean a slow, painful death.

[yaruka]

Kurruk had been pleased to hear Wilga's sweet whinny, and was now content, standing beneath the trees beside the two mares. Though the rain still seeped through the branches overhead, they were much better off in here and the combined body heat of all three of them helped to keep them all comfortable.

The rain continued and soon Kurruk's sandy coat was streaked with darker brown from the rain drops overhead. Wilga's coat was also streaked with the tracks of the drops, though Burilda's remained as uniformly black as it had been before the rain.
The Gang-gang's squawk did not startle the confident Kurruk, but noticing Wilga's head jerk the stallion reached over to nibble the crest of her neck reassuringly. Burilda moved away from them, and though Kurruk watch her go he made no move to stop her in any way. He watched with interest at the black mare spoke to the Gang-gangs, discussing the fate of a grey stallion called Nevada. Kurruk had heard the name before but had never encountered the stallion. He was interested to hear that the grey had lost all his mares, apparently in a fight with the King. But neither stallion sounded as though they were a threat to him or his new companions at the moment, so the dun stallion relaxed to wait out the storm. He was grateful that it had not been he who was so foolish as to try and take on of the King's favourite mares.

[{ Opal }]

OOC: How about a new thread or something? We're kind of finished here. xD

[yaruka]

sounds good to me I'll make one asap