Come back to me, [Tham]

[Corowa]

Mullara and Yaraan grazed quietly on the sweet snowgrass of the Hidden Flat. Rough hillsides dropped steeply down to the flat, and the two brumbies had been hidden by the damp forest of blanket-woods and tree ferns. Hide prickling, Yaraan threw up his head, and the sunlight rippled on his pale golden coat. Silencing her excitable son with a nip, Mullara’s ears flickered nervously.

Between the two brumbies there passed the same unspoken question. When would he return to them? Mullara missed him deeply, the white ghost, her mate. She longed for his companionship, his gentle strength and quiet devotion. Made restless by his mother’s anxiety, Yaraan stirred, for he was filled with all the impatience of youth. Sourly, the colt kicked out at his mother, and trotted off towards the mouth of the gully where the hillside sloped down to thick scrub and snowgums. Gently, Mullara called to him, her proud golden son.

When he did not swing about and return to her side, the mare trotted after him. Worried Yaraan in his boundless foolishness might follow his ghostly sire; the mare increased her pace. Through the trunks of the snowgums he flitted, that beautiful golden colt, inheritor of that same queerness Thambaroo possessed. Soundlessly, she came up beside him, so when her shoulder touched his, the colt leapt sharply sideways. “Where is he?” Yaraan demanded, with a shrill whinny of protest. However, he allowed himself to be slowed, and when he came to a standstill, Mullara came and stood beside him. Tenderly she rubbed his ears, and grumpily, he turned and nursed.

Yet still jittery, Yaraan was unable to contain himself. While Mullara grazed, the colt stood with head upflung, trembling in every limb so that his mother looked up and neighed to him. “Peace restless one,” she said softly, and the colt whirled about, almost as swift as the silver brumbies of which he was so fond, and bumped her nose with his own. He was sweaty, his fine golden coat all flecked with lather. There was restlessness about him that Mullara did not understand, a longing in his blood, which angered him, and made him foul-tempered.

“He said he would not be gone long, but still he has not returned! What if the men have taken him, what if he leads them to us?” Mullara gave a laughing whinny, and playfully nipped her worried looking son. “Thambaroo is a cunning stallion, he would not be so easily captured. Besides, he is not so foolish as to lead men to his mate and son.” With that, the mare dropped her head back down to graze, though her ears strained, listening always for him, and her nostrils quivered so as to catch the faintest of scents on the wind.

OOC: Haha I just realised how I missed the whole Tham/Mullara/Yaraan group

[yaruka]

OOC: I know right? I love Tham and his little family <3

BIC:
As the sun set in the sky a solitary horse made his way along the ridges of the Ramshead Range. The great grey stallion was so covered in dust he appeared nearly two shades darker than his usual alabaster but still he moved with a grace and pride atypical of his large frame. Head held alert, over-sized ears pricked forward intently, he listened for any hint of danger. Nothing. Relieved, Thambaroo let out a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding. He'd been so worried for his mate and son that he had hardly slept these past few days as he'd hurried back across the rough country from his latest scouting expedition. The little coven of brumbies rarely left the security of their perfect valley while men were in the mountains, still they had seen first hand the chaos the latest brumby drive had caused. After taking his family back to safety Thambaroo had set out to see what had become of the not so fortunate other brumbies and to determine if the mountains were once again safe for his ghostly herd. Now the men were gone and Tham bore good news, he could only imagine how pleased his son Yaraan would be to finally be able to stretch his legs outside of the hidden flat. And Mullara, how he missed his mate. He would be so glad to see her again, to stand with her and groom her withers as they watched their nearly year old son with pride. Huffing contentedly he contined on the last leg of his journey, descending cautiously towards the flat, all the while checking to make sure that no one else followed, friend or foe. For the flat was too perfect a hiding place to risk its exposure to any other than its current residents. Carefully he walked down the concealed ridge to flat. He could immediately see his golden sun and grulla mare, both waiting for him. His chest vibrated with a rumbling nicker of greeting as he swung into the valley, head held proudly and neck arched, showing off slightly for his Mullara. Then he walked over to her, touching her nose sweetly and blowing his warm breath into her nostrils. Next he turned his large head and butted his son’s shoulder playfully, noticing how the colt had seemed to grow even in the short space of time they had been apart.

[Corowa]

Further up the slope, there was the faintest clatter of stones, and Mullara threw up her head and gave a ringing whinny of greeting. Then there was Thambaroo, his neck proudly arched, half-prancing in his joy, and the mare could barely contain her excitement. Yaraan stood further off, his ears flickered suspiciously, and the whites of his eyes showed.

Shyly, Mullara returned the stallion’s own gentle greeting. Trembling, the mare thrust her nose into his silver-white mane, and a sigh went through her. Thambaroo had returned to them. Jealous, Yaraan rolled his eyes and jostled her, and when the stallion bumped his shoulder playfully, Yaraan squealed and kicked out.

“Were there many men, many brumbies taken?” Mullara asked anxiously, resting her head on the white stallion’s withers. Beside her, Yaraan had quietened, his ears tipping forwards as he listened. . The mare could feel her hide creeping with fear, and it seemed the shadows of the snowgums became suddenly menacing in the fading grey light. Nickering softly, Mullara pressed close to Yaraan, and the colt flattened his ears but did not move away.

Surely, with the men gone, he wondered, they would be able to leave the Hidden Flat. Tossing his head with impatience, Yaraan turned to his mother and nipped her roughly, demanding attention. “Does this mean we can leave here now?” he said, thoughts filled with the daring and cunning Thowra, for even Thowra had left his Hidden Valley to challenge the winds and tease the men who would have him, and Yaraan ached with longing.

[yaruka]

“Easy my son,” snorted Thambaroo as Yaraan eye’s rolled “Your own father is no threat to you.” But he soon forgot the yearling’s sour behaviour as Mullara buried her nose into his mane, sighing softly. He curved his neck around so that he could gently groom her withers, his teeth grating soothingly against her coat in an effort to relax her. “I’m afraid there were many men, and a fair few brumbies taken,” he said gravely, his sadness apparent in his dark eyes. “But the men have left now. The mountains are safe for us at the moment. The men are busy enough dealing with our captured brothers and sisters.” He sighed deeply and resumed grooming Mullara’s back. How he wished he could have prevented this, drives brought so much sorry to the High Country. But he knew he had no chance of freeing the captives, though he may long to bring them their freedom. Flashes of images from the drive of his younger days as a herd stallion burned through his mind and he pushed his nose deeper into the base of Mullara’s mane, inhaling her scent to reassure himself. Minutes later Yaraan’s rough nip to Mullara’s side caught his attention and Thambaroo laid his ears back in warning to his son. “Do not be rough Yaraan, it is unkind,” he said, for despite his size and power he had always been the most gentle of stallions. He would not tolerate anyone abusing his mate, even their own son. It was sad that Yaraan would even think of it really, Thambaroo could not understand where the colt’s bitter temperament and pushy ways had come from. Certainly not from either of his parents. Thambaroo could sense the impatience of his yellow son, could tell that only harm could come from keeping him cooped up here much longer. And now was perhaps the safest time to wander out into the mountain range. For everyone the bush was at its most cautious and the men were occupied. “If you feel so inclined, my dear Mullara, I think perhaps now is the time to take an excursion outside of our lovely valley to show Yaraan more of the world,” he said.

[Corowa]

Soothed by Thambaroo’s gentle touch, the mare felt sadness for those captured brumbies. A part of her wondered if perhaps her own daughters had been captured, those fine black fillies who existed only in half-memories and dreams. Slipping silently away from Thambaroo, she turned to the colt at her side, Yaraan, who was everything to her. The Hidden Flat would not hold him forever, and Mullara knew it was time to leave.

With a playful whinny, she gathered herself and leapt away at a gallop. Dodging and weaving through the ghostly forest of snowgums, she felt Yaraan’s breath hot on her flanks for he followed her closely. When the two brumbies burst from the trees, it was Yaraan who finally took the lead, and Mullara slowed, surprised to see how much he had grown. His tail streamed out behind him, and glistened silver in the moonlight.

Stopping at the foot of that great precipitous slope, the mare whirled about and neighed to Thambaroo. Head held high, Yaraan stood beside her, eyes rimmed with white and blowing hard. Strangely thrilled by this wild gallop through the night, Mullara turned and nipped him lightly. Squealing, the dun colt went up on his hind legs and struck furiously at her. Yet Mullara spun around too, and she had a fierce hold on his withers and shook him roughly. Eyes rolling, Yaraan danced out of reach of her hooves, and gave an angry stallion’s scream.

Startled, Mullara shied away, and Yaraan stilled, sensing the game had ended. His skin prickled with excitement, for finally he could race the winds, stretch out his legs and gallop on through the snow, challenging the whirlwind himself.

OOC: She had already borne two foals before she met Thambaroo, so that’s who the two fillies are.

[yaruka]

Thambaroo gazed proudly after his mate and son, relieved to see that Mullara’s anxiety seemed to have some what faded. At Mullara’s call he kicked out playfully before cantering up the ridge after his small family, neck curved and head tucked so that his movements were more elegant than rushed. His long white forelock half-covered his eyes and his thick tail streamed out behind his powerful hindquarters as he pranced up the slope. When he reached the top he gave Mullara’s neck a quick, affectionate nuzzle before setting off to the right at a brisk, purposeful trot. All around the little herd was silence, not a creature stirred in the aftermath of the brumby drive.

[Corowa]

Yaraan stood in the faintly lit night, listening to the sounds of the bush around him. Mullara stood beside him, ears pricked, listening as the mopoke gave its mournful cry, and the creatures of the night stirred. Thambaroo, his white legs twinkling in the soft moonlight, loomed like a ghost from the shadows of the snowgums. He seemed to float over the ground, so light and sure his movements, so proud the arch of his neck. Reassured, the dun mare and her pale creamy son, followed. Yet Yaraan slithered and slipped on the ribbons of bark, and Mullara urged him on, hustled him up the slope faster and faster, afraid she would lose him in the darkness.

Legs stiff and sore, trembling with exhaustion and that same queer excitement, Yaraan peered down that steep precipitous slope, into the eerie blackness of the deep gully. Mullara called him away from that high edge and the colt whirled about, suddenly fearful he would fall down and down, into the darkness below.

Here on the higher plains, the snow fell lightly, and Yaraan stared in wonderment at the whirling, twirling snowflakes. Some memory stirred within him, and he was suddenly filled with wild joy, the urge to gallop madly through the night with none but the wind to follow. Thambaroo flitted past the two brumbies, and Yaraan raced after him, over snowgrass buried with snow, mocking the stallion with a nip and a high joyous whinny. The drumming of his own galloping hooves filled him with excitement, and he was aware of nothing but the throbbing of blood in his veins, and the sobbing of his breath.

[yaruka]

Thambaroo kicked out playfully at the colt’s nip, pinning his ears in mock anger and rushing after him for a few steps before settling back into his ground eating canter, just ahead of Mullara. He extended his stride as the colt galloped ahead, amazed at how his son had grown. Yaraan was swift too, would be swifter than his father when he was full grown. For though Thambaroo had a powerful stride, he was not nimble like the deer or goat and his solid conformation made him ill suited to sprinting. Not to say the grey stallion was slow, no he could run, but his son possessed another kind of speed entirely. As they galloped Thambaroo felt joy and excitement course through his veins, not the same wild excitement Yaraan felt, but the thrill of being out in the moonlit night, galloping with his small family, free of threat for now. He tossed his head joyfully, calling over his shoulder to Mullara, beckoning the mare forward to race. He knew he would likely not win a battle of speed but it was the joy of running with his mate the silver stallion sought, not victory. The little family of horses, the creamy colt, silver stallion and shadowy mare, galloped on through the night, the moonlight gleaming on their coats, highlighting their eyes and setting the stallion and colt’s coats ablaze with light. But there was no one to see the glorious family save for a lone owl sitting high above in one of the trees.

OOC: is Yaraan a dun or a palomino? I forget, sorry.

[Corowa]

The wind moaned eerily between the rough granite tors of the Ramshead, rushed through narrow clefts and hollows, tossing the snow round and round in great willy-willies. The roar of the wind increased, became a gale, as snow stung his eyes and flanks. Yaraan’s ears twitched nervously and he slowed his headlong gallop and swung around to where surely Mullara stood. However, there was nothing but the wailing, tearing wind, and with sudden horror, the colt realised he was lost in the blizzard, lost in this blinding world of white.

Mullara stopped still, threw up her head and stood listening. Through driving wind and snow, a call rang out, and the mare trembled all over for it was Yaraan. Plunging forwards, she neighed frantically, galloping wildly on through the heavily falling snow. The wind was very strong, and she floundered in the deeper drifts of snow, terribly afraid. Yaraan would perish, and Mullara with him if she could not find him and get down below the blizzard. However, when she called, called with all her strength, the mare was answered only with silence.

Shaking with fear, Yaraan slid and slithered down a steeply rising spur. When the wind gusted up from those sharp rocky tors below, the colt stumbled and was blown over. Staggering to his feet, he pushed on through the tearing winds; felt the sweat break out behind his ears as on and on he went. Hurrying blindly, his legs ached from the steep descent and he was so very tired. He stumbled with exhaustion, and when he slipped and fell once more, he laid there too tired to move, sides heaving.

OOC: I made it so Yaraan got a bit too far ahead, and somehow got lost in the blizzard. We needed a bit of action.

[yaruka]

OOC: haha no kidding. and sorry for the wait. hope this is ok, I'm running on virtually no sleep right now so we'll see....

With one last inviting neigh to his mate, Thambaroo swung around and faced forward again, keen to keep an eye out for his son. Only, Yaraan was not there. Snorting in horror Thambaroo lengthened his stride, but the pale colt was no where to be seen for any length of distance ahead. Suddenly a terrified cry rang out and Thambaroo sensed Mullara pulling up short behind him. It was Yaraan, he was sure of it. Whirling to face the anxious mare he nickered reassuringly to her "We will find him, do not despair," before pricking his large ears forward, intently focused on the sounds of the evening. Mullara plunged forwards and with a cry of concern Thambaroo sprang after her, anxious not to lose his mate as well as his son in the snowstorm that had quickly become a blizzard. Mullara was easy to follow, even in the snow, for she showed up as a dark patch even in the thickest of the swirling white. Thambaroo knew he was all but invisible but this didn't matter if only he could keep with Mullara and find Yarran. The only problem was, the young colt was nearly as pale as his father. Only the dun's dark points would show up in the snow. Just ahead Mullara ran blindly towards Yaraan's last call, and, fearing she would hurt herself in her panic, Thambaroo called out urgently to her. "Be careful, love. You will be of no help to him if you too are lost or handicapped." Straining his powerful legs he caught up with her, then passed her, gently guiding her away from the edges of the slopes that he knew much better than she. Running side by side the two horses listened desperately for another call, but no young cry met their ears. Thambaroo was beginning to despair, surely the snow had not claimed his vibrant son so quickly? Throwing his head he whinnied a long low cry, full of urgency. "Yaraan, where are you?" he called. Not waiting for answer he galloped on besides Mullara, only able to hope that they were still going in the right direction.
A sudden snowdrift leered up in front of him and Thambaroo was preparing himself to jump when a streak of black caught his eye. Propping violently, he skidded to a halt just before his motionless son. Dropping his head he snuffled Yaraan anxiously, nosing the bitterly cold snow of his son's back with his large yet exceedingly gentle muzzle. Huffing anxiously he nudged Yaraan's head, trying to encourage the colt to rise.

OOC: yes it's a pathetic attempt at writing, I'm really sorry. But I can barely keep my eyes open. :/