Call of the Wild [Illoura/Open]

[Tiggs]

Thalera had not wandered far over winter. After escaping in the confusion in that storm, Thalera had been roaming alone throughout the snowy season. His time with the woman had allowed him to grow tall and strong, so surviving the winter had just been a case of remembering how to forage food. He had been looking alittle worse for wear by the end of the cold season, but now as spring was showing signs of summer, his coat was free of winter fuzz and his smutty palomino coat was mottled brown and golden in the sunshine.

His mane was a normal palomino flaxen, but his tail was darkening out near the roots. His rump was even sootier than it had been a year ago, and his face was darkening with black hairs around the wide blaze down his face. His pelt might be mistaken for buckskin if it weren’t for the fact his back was untouched by a dorsal stripe and his mane and tail were flaxen. Before his legs darkened too much, white stockings stood out bright and white, higher on his hind legs than his fore. Overall, the two-year-old was quite an interesting looking colt, no doubt thanks to his father’s strange colouring.

Grazing up on the ridge, Thalera apparently had no qualms about men spotting him. In fact, unless men were to come into his line of sight, the prospect of capture might not even cross his mind and even then he would not be as fazed as most. Thalera had spent the better part of a year in the company of man, and he had grown to like it. He was fed, he was sheltered, and he was doted on. Out here he had to find his own food and water, and there was little shelter to speak of. Had he not been quite so stubborn, he would probably willingly let himself be captured.

Out here, however, Thalera could not resist the call of the wild. At two-years-old, he was still not able to fight and hold mares let alone breed, but that would not stop the mulish colt from trying to gather a herd. He was quite self-appreciating, and was confident to the point of foolishness. Lifting his head from grazing, Thalera called out across the High Country, declaring his presence and inviting any fillies to join him.

[Ehetere]

Illoura pricked her ears in interest as a stallion’s call rang out over the nearby hills. It was not unusual for stallions to call out in spring; challenging each other and looking for mares, but it was this calls’ proximity to the humans and their pens that had caught Illoura’s attention. She had wandered away from Wilgee and Kareela a few days ago; at the time looking for a drink but the deciding to go exploring on her own. It was lots of fun to go exploring with the other two young brumbies, but there was some excitement of being on her own and finding new country that thrilled Illoura.

She walked at a leisurely pace up the slope to the top of the ridge where the trees thinned out. A sooty palomino colt that looked just a little younger than she was. Illoura cantered playfully across the snowgrass intending to dazzle him with her looks. The sunlight made his own gold and brown coat shine in a nice way, so Illoura knew that her own would be easily as impressive. The sun’s rays playing on her coat and tail, she continued to career around the colt in a playful manner, occasionally flicking him with her tail. Finally she came to a stop in front of him; throwing her head up as she did; sending her mane flying in every which direction. Illoura enjoyed playing with stallion’s hearts; actually, she enjoyed playing in general. All except for that exceptionally rude liver chestnut she had been unfortunate enough to run into recently, she always was leading one horse or another on some wild chase in hope of losing them down some valley or hole.

“Hi there!” she exclaimed happily, her greeting coupled with a friendly whicker. “What are you doing up here on such an open ridge? Are you an escaped tame horse?” Illoura knew that if he was indeed a stock horse, then he would be all too easy to lose in the shrub if she wished. One thing was for sure; she was not related to this colt. Many of her various detached relatives had been turning up lately, and it was all rather odd. A whole mini herd of silver brumbies had been formed with her, Wilgee and Kareela, which was quite exciting. Illoura thought that perhaps Kareela might get beaten up for traveling with them, but there was nothing she could do about that. They were all related, so Kareela had no interest in either of them, but he knew the risks as well as anyone that he took for traveling with two silver mares.

Illoura thought that this colt was actually rather… interesting to look at. The simple description of ‘sooty palomino’ did not truly do him justice. His coat truly was one of the strangest colours she had ever seen; and if he was a stallion she may have even considered running with him for a time. Maybe he could travel with them… but no. He really did have the smell of man about him, and that meant that he had no bush knowledge. Wilgee and Kareela were both bush wise, almost as bush wise as she in fact. This meant that they had the luxury of coming and going with no fear of leaving a trace except for nibbled grass. Still, she could have some fun now, couldn’t she? Fun was one of the things she liked best. Her mother had always called her cheeky as a foal, which changed to immature as she grew older. Illoura had simply never grown out of playing pranks on other horses. She had never had to worry about any other than herself, since she had never been with a stallion so she had no opportunity to have a foal. Responsibility was something she liked to weasel her way out of; and she was resolutely decided that she would not join a stallions’ herd unless she did truly wish to devote herself fully to him and become his mate. For otherwise what point was there?

[Tiggs]

Thalera turns to see not only a filly, but a silver filly! He called to her boldly, prancing over. He was just about her height, but what he had in leg-length he was lacking in bulk. No doubt he would fill out in the next few years to be a solid-looking stallion, but for now he still looked young and therefore inexperienced to everyone but himself. He whinnied, gait rocking with his prancing.

“I escaped the men before the snows came, yes.” He seemed more proud that he had escaped them than embarrassed that he had been captured in the first place. He had been less than a yearling when that happened. He could hardly be blamed for his mother’s stupidity. “My name is Thalera, named for strength.” He arched his neck proudly.

If he had been less self-absorbed he might have thought a silver filly answering his call was a spot of luck. As it was, it was only natural that such a rare-coloured mare should find his call intriguing and want to come to him. Nickering as deep as his adolescent voice would allow, he reached his muzzle out to hers.

[Ehetere]

So he was not an escaped brumby after all. Well, Illoura supposed that that didn’t really matter anyways. “My name is Thalera, named for strength.” said the sooty palomino proudly, and Illoura couldn’t help flick her mane in a rather flirtatious manner. If he thought that his name means that he was strength; he was mistaken at least for the moment. No colt had strength compared to that of a full grown stallion in his prime. Perhaps that was the future for him. She on the other hand had always been beautiful. “I am Illoura; named for my beauty,” replied Illoura proudly; her neck arching in imitation of his own.

“What do you know of the mountains?” asked Illoura curiously beginning to pace around him once more, in her strange high voice. It tended to surprise anyone that met her; since only foals had high pitched voices, and even then they were nasal. Illoura had the same articulation and clarity of voice as any fully grown brumby, just not the same deepness. She often used this to her advantage, since it allowed some horses to believe that she was younger than she truly was. In truth, it would perhaps be fun to run with this colt for a while. And then perhaps lose him in a mist leaving him with nothing more than a memory of a beautiful silver filly.

[Tiggs]

Thalera gave a nod. ‘Beauty’ was certainly accurate, but what else would a mother expect a silver foal to grow up to be? He watched intently as she circled, obviously quite aware of how beautiful she was. Thalera was not so naïve to think she might be a spirit or a wraith. She was right there with him; she was tangible, corporeal, and definitely not a ghost. He found himself nickering in passive awe. She was beautiful and with her close presence it was hard to ignore his instincts. Luckily Thalera was a very instinctual colt, so he acted on them without remorse.

“I know enough.” He replied, still unable to tear his eyes away. She probably knew more about the mountains than he ever would, but Thalera was not in the business of too many compliments. “I know the mountains are tall, but I also know you can call no mountain beautiful or majestic. The mountains are the ground we walk on. The mountains are ours. No matter how tall a mountain might be, if you stand atop it, you are taller.” He tossed his head, short pale mane rippling.

“You are a silver brumby. I know what a prize you are. Your power over the mountains surpasses any other brumby that might walk this earth. But I am a stallion. If I were to claim you that power would be mine as well.” To own a silver brumby was the highest of feats. He nickered to her, deep and encouraging. If she would run in his herd, he would be one of the wealthiest stallions in the High Country.

He didn’t seem to notice that he was still a two-year-old. He acted as if he had the physical presence to match his grand words and it was almost absurd. Even if she agreed to run with him, he would not hold her for long. A silver filly was a prize for every stallion, and at only two years, Thalera had yet to even be in a fight. This did not dash his confidence, however. He seemed determined to woo Illoura despite all the factors stacked against him.

[Ehetere]

Illoura knew well enough that this colt was no where near old enough to hold any fillies of his own, let alone mares, let alone silver mares. That he even proposed the thought showed that he had courage; or perhaps he was just plain dumb. Either way; he had at least some brains in his head, thought Illoura, and she liked nothing more than to cause trouble. Still, if he wanted her to run with him, he was going to have to run after her first…

“You wish for me to run with you; young colt? Did it never occur to you that if I ran with any male, stallion or colt, it would cause such an uproar that you would have every stallion in the whole high country after you. Should another catch sight of me with you, they would try to steal me in an instant,” proclaimed Illoura. Sure she knew that she was playing it up a little, but so far every stallion she had come across had wanted her for their herds; to be the jewel of their collection. She was such a free spirit however that she refused to be owned or shown off in front of other stallions as a conquest or achievement. She had proved to many a stallion that there was more to her than just a pretty face.

At heart, Illoura actually quite liked the idea of stallions fighting over her, and liked that they thought she was beautiful. But what she didn’t like was that they would taker her for their herds no matter what sort of a horse that she was. They would not care if she was kind or sweet or mean spirited or timid. At least not until they decided that they wanted foals out of her. And even then she could not be truly sure if they heard a word that she said; instead choosing to deafen it all out with their own thoughts of glorification and magnificence at owning her.

Still, she knew that this colt, no matter how shallow he may or may not be, could not hold her against her will. She had the distinct impression that she was smarter than him, and if she so wanted, she could leave him alone right here right now. She could run with Thalera for a while; give him a sense of self importance, and then go and find Wilgee and have an adventure or two. Life was not to be wasted by following some boring old stallion around, and Illoura had no intention of doing so. If she ever did suppress her wander lust enough to join a herd, she knew that she would only be with that herd by allegiance as opposed to actually hanging around them. With a wild whinny she began to canter around, a plan falling into place in her head.

“You wish for me to run with you; Thalera the strong? Well, if you truly wish to run with me then come on!” with a cheeky nip on his rump, she was cantering off down the slope she had climbed up; sending enticing, ringing neighs back up behind her. The wind in her mane and in between her ears felt wonderful; running was one of the most relaxing things in the world for her. She would lead this colt a dance, but perhaps not exactly disappear at the end of it. She propped to a standstill to see where Thalera was. She was not going to be running around and offering to come with him for nothing.

[Tiggs]

Running after her had not been what he had in mind. Running with her was closer, but really he was only interested in her running with him. What good was a mare if she made him run after her? How was he supposed to watch over the rest of his herd if they were running off in all different directions? Nevertheless, the colt huffed and grudgingly loped after her, calling her back impatiently as he made his way more slowly down the hill.

She must know how lovely she was, and Thalera was not impressed at the way she used it to her advantage. Was she purposefully making him follow her? He slowed and halted half way down the hill, calling again to her. He had no patience for these games. “Come back, Illoura. This is a waste of energy.” He stamped a hoof, pawing at the ground in frustration. “No wonder she has no stallion,” He mumbled to himself, “If this is the way she treats them.”

Louder, he called down to her. “You have my attention if that is what you trying to accomplish, but I do not have the time and energy to waste on the silly games. It is true that another stallion would want to fight for you, but if you’re to run with me, we will need to save our energy for running when we need to.” He said with a nicker, throwing up his head proudly.

[Ehetere]

A waste of energy was it? Illoura huffed and tossed her mane in an annoyed manner; there was nothing she liked more than to run and this colt refused to come and play with her! He must be very lazy and unfit from being with humans for so long. “Humph,” snorted Illoura, grumpy about her fun being spoiled, “Then at least walk with me; or are you too lazy even for that?” If he would even be bothered to come with her; she would go back to Wilgee. Maybe the lure of two silver fillies would make him run.

Illoura trotted back up the hill and squealed excitedly, nipping him on the shoulder rather harder than she had before. Now she was impatient, and was getting tired of talking and standing around and doing things slowly! “Come on then! Or are you going to simply wait around for stallions to find you so then you can run? exclaimed Illoura still trotting circles around him. Not once had she said that she was going to run with him, and at this rate she was going to run from him in boredom. What sort of stallion or colt did not want to run after a silver filly when she offered?

[Tiggs]

“I am not lazy!” Thalera defended himself hotly. “I merely do not see what purpose running around will serve!” He huffed snapping at the air after she nipped him. She was a bossy filly, and Thalera was quickly discovering he did not like that. He had half a mind to leave her there to run about and waste precious energy. The only thing keeping him here was the fact that she was a filly, and a silver one at that. Stallions would be on the prowl for such prizes, and Thalera realised with a sly smile that he could beat them to it.

“Fine, let’s run.” Perhaps that would appease her, be he was not sure how much tolerance he would have for such games. “But I am no foal, I do not play silly games; let it be known that I do this only to prove I do not indulge in sloth. I simply reserve running for times of need.” He bunched his darkened haunches, and sped past her down the hill with a buck and a whinny. If he was going to play games, they would be on his terms, not his. Skidding to a halt from his steady canter, he reared and kicked his forelegs as high into the air as he could manage without over-balancing.

He would show her; soon it would be her running after him. He came to the ground, wheeled and set off around the candle barks to lead the run.

OOC: Shall we take them to another thread?