Snowswept Loner

[yaruka]

Thambaroo grazed solo on the grassy plain as light flakes of snow drifted around him. Another winter had come, but he would stay here until heavier snow practically forced him to go lower. Unlike most horses, he had one area where he stayed by himself for as much of the year as possible, then another winter grazing ground for when the weather was rough. He didn't travel around much, he didn't need to. There was almost always enough food to meet the needs of one lone horse. The only time he strayed from his regular territory was when he went on his rounds to see how the other horses of Kosciukso area fared. He went unseen, then returned back here on this lonely plateau. He knew everything that went on, almost as much as the birds of the bush, the keepers of legends. Although not the king of Kosciusko, Thambaroo certainly was a powerful stallion. Some horses were in doubt of his existence, the rest knew that he was the silent watcher of the territory, and knew almost anything to do with his home mountain range. He had lived here all his life and was friends with the animals of the bush, though talked to few horses. No one interfered with his life, that was the way he liked it.
His white coat reflected starkly as night fell but Thambaroo felt no need to take cover. No one bothered him here.

[Corowa]

a lone brumby mare grazed beneath the shelter of two ancient ghost gums, their mottled bark rough, and trunks bleached white by wind and snow. for on this rocky tor the mountain winds blew fierce. men did not come here with their white-faced cattle and tame horses. and with a snort, mullara turned to the north, ears pricked. snow had come to the mountains, driving the brumbies to their winter grazing grounds where the winds moaned in the rocks, and the legends of yarraman, the brolga and the silver sons of thowra were still told.

it was the winds that carried him to her. with head upflung, mullara called out to him, though the call was muffled by the boughs and trunks of the snowgums. for a moment, the mare stood, as though listening for an answer that never came. and then she blundered on through the timber and heath, onwards and onwards, searching for the stallion who had come to her on such a bleak winter's night.

the stallion was indeed one of the snow, for he was pale, paler than even the silver brumbies of whom the kurrawongs spoke. few brumbies travelled south when winter came to the high country. there was death in the cold winds of the blizzard, and yet mullara had not left. here there was shelter from men; from their tame horses and their dogs; their rough hands that smelt of smoke and blood, and their voices hoarse and bewildering. in the blackness of the forthcoming night, the mare became but a shadow in the gloom. however, this stallion of the snow, with his pale, pale coat could still be seen amidst the darkness.

with a soft whinny that was of both greeting and of mystery, mullara danced out to meet him. in the dwindling grey light, the plain little brumby mare was almost beautiful; a wraith that flitted through the eucalypts towards thambaroo. and then the dance ended, for she was before him and she was no longer alone. "hello stallion of the snow," mullara said, her words breaking the eerie hush of the watching bush. "i am mullara, named for the clouds of the storm." and boldly, the mare reached over and gently nipped the stallion. nostrils quivered as she breathed in his scent, and half-forgotten memories of a stallion black as night itself were stirred.

ooc: hello there :] might as well dust off mullara and get her active as well!

[yaruka]

OOC: hey haha, no kidding I was feeling quite guilty for never having gotton Tham "on the board" so to speak
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BIC:
Thambaroo heard and smelt her before he saw her. Another brumby was coming this way, what business did she have here? This late in the year he usually had the Ramshead to himself, the rest of the brumbies having already fled the oncoming winter. Thambaroo did not acknowledge her prescense at first. In stead he continued to graze, his large ears flicking back and forth to catch the sounds she made travelling through the woods. Finally he raised his head as she came dancing towards him, her sooty coat cast in shadow then light as she moved out of the woods. Though she blended into the soft night light as though merely a shadow, he knew that he still glowed almost irridescently-a horse of the moon and snow. He didn't fancy himself anything special but the winter was him time, as it had been Thowra's element and the season of his silver progeny. Why was she here? The mare came right up to him and nipped him lightly on the neck. Taken aback by her boldness, it took Thambaroo a few seconds to react. Pinning his ears he bared his teeth at her, a gesture clearly saying "Back off, I need my space". He wasn't sure how to react, he hadn't been this close to another horse in almost three years. He'd almost forgotton what it felt like to be touched by another muzzle as soft as his. Still, despite his wariness and grudging attitude, Thambaroo couldn't help but be pleased that she was here. As he stood there in the open clearing facing her and waiting for how she'd react, long repressed feelings began stirring in the back of his mind. Feelings of love and the desire to protect a herd of his own.

[Corowa]

With a shrill squeal, Mullara struck out at the stallion. For the wise brumby mare was no filly, timid and fearful. Yet neither did she melt back into the snow gums, for though the wind moaned through the high plains and the shadows of the night fell upon them, interest held her. Buried beneath the snow, the scrubby grasses of the High Country could still be found by those who knew where to look. Turned to the winds, Mullara's nostrils quivered as she lowered her head to graze. Shaking the snow from her coat, she could feel the stallion beside her, and sensed that he was troubled.

Perhaps soon enough it would be time to move to lower ground. But here, there was shelter from the driving winds, and grazing enough for two brumbies. For a moment, Mullara wondered whether a black stallion would come on such a night, as he had so many nights ago. Indeed this was a night of ghosts, where the calls of the past still echoed in the winds. Ears pricked forwards, the little brumby mare thought perhaps she could almost hear the cries of Thowra as he raced the blizzard, son of the High Country itself.

OOC: sorry it took so long. feel free to shoot me since i'm so hopeless with keeping up with posts. we can just pretend it's winter until this thread is all done and finished.

[yaruka]

OOC: aw, it's ok Corowa- no problem

BIC:
Thambaroo dropped his head back down to graze, knowing that the mare was no threat but puzzled by her boldness and certainty. He watched her discreetly out of the corner of his eye, but did not otherwise acknowledge her. He allowed her to graze nearby him but otherwise waited, like the night seemed to wait, for what the morning would bring.

OOC: sorry it's so short! :/

[Corowa]

Darkness crept over the mountains, and the light faded to grey. Dark clouds were heavy above them, and in the icy winds, Mullara could feel the promise of snow. The mare snorted, breathing deep of the cold mountain air, feeling the restlessness that is borne on the hush before the storm. Without lifting her head, Mullara grazed towards the stallion, although her ears were flattened and the whites showed in her eyes. It would be a hard winter, snow was already thick on the ground and to the north, the lake had frozen, for she had heard it told in the whistle of the bronze cuckoo and the cry of the mopoke.

"You have no mares," she said, for here there was nothing but the silence of the bush and the rustle of the wind in the leaves of the snow-gums. A strong stallion should have held a bimble of his own, a herd of mares to protect and defend. Yet there were still whispers of the two grey stallions who had sought the mate of the whirlwind himself, and both of whom had died for it. "We should seek lower ground. We will perish in the snow and wind if we do not move lower." As she spoke, Mullara trembled, for the queerness of the High Country this night made her uneasy. Melting back into the snow-gums, she called gently to the stallion, no more than a ghost of brumby in the black of night.

OOC: MUHAHAHA the thread lives!

[yaruka]

OOC: lol- it does!

BIC:
Thambaroo ignored the mare's rolling eyes and pinned back years but listened to her words thoughtfully. Still, he did not move. Most winters he stayed up here until the last possible second, for he had only himself to think of. But now with this strange mare around there was another life in his hands. Not that she was really his mare, but she had stayed with him and perhaps he should assume responsibility for her safety. He didn't want her to leave and suffer for being alone. She moved off and called to him in the woods, calling gently as he had never heard her before. Barely able to see her but knowing she was there he raised his head and stared in her direction. Finally he moved as if in a trance towards her, lowering his head against the wind and the snow. She was right. The time had come to move lower. And perhaps it wouldn't hurt to make friends with her. Maybe, finally, he had found another horse to share his life with. Maybe it was time to let go of his pain and live again.

[Corowa]

The stallion was a pale streak in the falling snow. Beyond the forest of snowgums, the plains gave way to sheer cliffs of rock. When a snowflake brushed her rump, the mare started as if stung by March flies. With a wild neigh, Mullara plunged down that steep slope of the gully, plunged down into the darkness. Nimbly, she leapt for a tiny ledge. Surefooted as a wild goat, she steadied herself, for the ground was rougher here. More slowly she went down, picking her way carefully over mossy rock and streamers of bark.

A creek wove its way through the foot of the gully, and Mullara drank deeply of the cold, blue waters. A flying phallanger scurried along the branches of the black sallee, and the mare nibbled on the clumps of snowgrass. Here the ground was churned to mud, where two stallions had fought, their hoofmarks buried beneath the snow. Fearful, Mullara trotted further downstream, where the trees thickened and the roar of the wind was silenced, and it was in this strange silence that her call rang out.

[yaruka]

Thambaroo followed Mullara through the snowstorm, knowing that he himself was virtually invisible. As for the mare, she showed up only as a dark smudge among the swirling snow. Mullara picked up speed, seemingly disturbed. He nuzzled her once, in an attempt to comfort her but the mare just pressed on. Suddenly the fury of the whirlwind seemed to possess the brumby mare as she gathered speed and plunged down the rocky face of the mountain. Thambaroo's neigh of concern was lost in the wind that blew both of them nearly off their feet. He peered over the edge and to his relief saw the grulla (?) mare standing safely on a ledge below. Being heavier and somewhat less nimble Thambaroo was more cautious going down the slope, though the wind spoke to him and told him to hurry, which he did, seeming to hardly be aware of his own actions.
Mullara had paused to drink a cold stream by the time he had reached the bottom. The massive stallion dropped his head to drink only for an instance then raised it again to continue their journey. Once they came to uneven ground, churned by stallion's hooves. Thambaroo felt his senses go on high alert but he knew that no stallion would challenge them to day. The fight had been days ago, besides, no brumby in his right mind would start a fight on a night like this.
The pair continued, into a bushel of snowgums where Mullara, obviously fearful called to the night air. Though doubtful that anyone was near, the theme of the night seemed to him to be caution and so, Thambaroo leant forward and gave her a quick warning nip on the crest "Better to be careful," he whispered, the first words he had spoken to her he realized afterwards. Nudging her reasurringly, Thambaroo stepped ahead, hoping his outline at least, was visible to the mare behind him. Carefully he tread, following a barely present track down the mountainside. He knew this route well, it would take them to a small sheltered valley, with room for no more than two. If some other pair had not beaten them there then they should be safe in that area until the spring, where he could again climb the mountain and seek pleasure in its lonely peaks. This year, he hoped, they wouldn't have to be so lonely, for he may be able to share his mountain world with Mullara.

OOC: ick, sorry it's so messy! I'm rushing to post replies to all my threads! :/

[Corowa]

"It would be a foolish brumby to fight on such a night," Mullara said, for all around them the blizzard roared. The falling snow buried the hoof-marks, and without a sound, Mullara followed the stallion down the narrow mountain track. Black sallee hung with old-man's beard moss lined the ridge, and broke the force of the wind, sheltering the brumbies from the moaning storm. The leathery leaves of the snowgums rustled in the wind, and Mullara picked her way down the half-overgrown track, feeling her way in the dark, and all the while following the stallion downwards, half afraid he would vanish in the blinding whiteness of the snow.

Mullara pressed close to his flank, touching him. She stumbled over great rough rocks, damp with moss and rain, rotten logs that she had not seen in the darkness. Timbered ridges surrounded them, and the brumby mare fought her way through the blizzard, through the whirling snow, fought her way steadily downwards to where Mullara was no longer certain.

OOC: Your post was fine, no need to rush. Mullara's a dark mousy dun. I need to find a reference picture for her.