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Post by Corowa on Aug 19, 2009 23:40:39 GMT
“Even a silver stallion, inheritor of such wisdom and swiftness, could not truly hold me for the season,” the mare boasted. “I possess all the wild freedom of the wind, and even man fought to tame such wildness.” However, Wilgee trembled when she remembered the feel of man upon her back, the cut of his whip and the roughness of his hands. Worried perhaps the yearling might sense her anxieity, the mare bumped him playfully with her nose. Wilgee was glad for the colt’s companionship, for she missed the friendship of Illoura, and longed for the company of another young horse. Mering was a fine yearling and would undoubtedly become a good-looking stallion, to be spoken of in the joyous songs of the currawongs. But born of a silver mare, Wilgee had no longing to run with the silver brumbies. Even beautiful as they were, the mare was profoundly curious about those other horses of whom the bush sometimes spoke, of horses who galloped madly through the night, a herd of phantoms, and a stallion glorious in the moonlight.
Wilgee had heard tales of elusive nightrunners, with their queer red eyes, distant stories, which told of their coming in times of great sorrow and loss. In the south of the Cascades, by the rough-flowing waters of the Indegoodbee River, there had been whispers of two white foals. And in the highest mountain country, where tales of the dwarf colt Choopa still whispered in the wind, she had heard of two white foals, furious as march flies, and perhaps these had been the same white foals, or sons of those born in the south.
The young mare could feel her heart thumping with a mad excitement. She knew such foals would be stallions now, splendid as the pale light of the moon, but things she had long ago forgotten surfaced, for surely the old stories had told of times when one filly would vanish, and the sound of horses galloping on through the deep darkness of the night would be heard. There had always been something menancing about those horses who galloped in the night, and Wilgee felt a cold shiver of dread. For though there was some strange excitement in running with such a stallion, there was a sense of menance about these nightrunner, and none of the stolen fillies had ever come back.
The mare stood irresolute, longing to know more of these horses that galloped by night, but longing also for the snowgrass plains of the Ramshead. The sound of thunder and sudden flash of lightning, caused her to jump. She had the strong feeling it was time to leave, to vanish silently and without tracks to mark her passing. And as she stepped quietly away, creamy hide prickling with sudden excitement, she did not see the yearling extend his nose to the roan filly. With a toss of her head, the mare sprang into a canter, threaded a swift way between the snowgums, leaping over logs, swinging nimbly about the spreading branches and wide-spaced trunks. Each time the sky brightened with lightning, Wilgee could feel every nerve tingle, every hair stand on end. The air seemed suddenly full of rain, and the young mare realised she could barely see the track in front of her. She propped to a standstill then, and stood with head upflung and wide-eyed. Her flanks heaving, the mare’s ears twitched nervously, sure she had heard the sound of horses galloping in the queer grey light of the storm.
OOC: I think maybe one or two more replies and then I'm going to wrap it up with Wilgee so she can go off on her latest adventure.
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Post by Rivre on Aug 31, 2009 16:03:04 GMT
OOC; Sure, thats fine, I'll be typing up a reply as soon as I've burnt this meal I'm cooking xD.
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Post by Rivre on Sept 1, 2009 18:32:33 GMT
As the hot white light of the storm pierced the clouds above once more, the shivers pacing Mering's spine suddenly carried a whole new meaning to him; with the snows melting on the higher ground, and now this new tide of loathsome wet pounding across the land, flooding was inevitable, all the more reason for horses to be traveling upwards. All things considered, trotting out over the foothills wouldn't be easy, even with the small, if visible, shaly rock track winding it's way precariously up the cliffs and tors, the mud and slide under hoof would be difficult to overcome.
Eyes smarting under the lashings, he gave one last fleeting glance to the mysterious roan filly, before backing into the bleakness of the bush, to gallop through the haze and gales, soundless as the breeze which never touched the trees, as invisible as the illusive grey kangaroo, ageless in it's wisdom.
Slowing to a trot, he let the wattle flower, bowing under the weight of the rain, brush his hide with it's wet residue, although he was quite able to avoid it, his attention was caught by that of the sigh of a cream brumby weaving through the paling barks. Slipping to her side, he side-stepped into view, eyeing her without speculation, "Hail O' Wilgee of the yellow clay, I do not wish for anything more than the company of such a mare as yourself, but I would feel it odd for a colt of my age to wander with you. I realize, I have perhaps dug a hole for myself in offering my company, but what I do not wish for, is to bother you with my longing for a herd. I shall leave you now, to your adventures, but I pray that you one day find a stallion of such worth, that you will follow him."
Offering his nose in goodbye, he felt a tremble of pure excitement rush through him, orbs sparkling with a queer light as his velvet touch merely grazed her delicate muzzle; throwing his head to the sky, he snorted wildly, unable to utter anything other than his simplest of apologies, rearing in a silent solute.
OOC: Sorry for the shortness and lack of.... Worth... this post has.
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Post by KAREE on Sept 10, 2009 9:19:03 GMT
post coming soon!!
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Post by KAREE on Sept 14, 2009 9:30:43 GMT
The sky was suddenly turning grey, with large clouds rolling over the remaining blue. Nilee's nostrils trembled as the before-rain smell drifted past on the wind. The two other horses seemed to be too bush-orientated to remain conversing with her, she watched as they drifted away. She sighed lightly. The colt, Mering was obviously intrigued by the silver-blooded mare, Wilgee. And for some reason, Nilee knew she couldn't compete with that. She wasn't one to travel over the country, and she definately wasn't one to keep herself hidden from the world. She waited a bit after the two horses left, before turning to leave, herself. She would find shelter somewhere nearby, and wait out the storm before she looked for company elsewhere.
OOC|| Ok, so i was kinda confused about the two last posts, probably since I've been away for so long. x3. So Nilee has left. lol.
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