A Splash of Colour [Corowa, Ehetere]

[yaruka]

OOC: Hmm, never been to Australia so please forgive me if my visual descriptions aren't that accurate :/

The leaves of the few trees on the slope of the North Ramshead peak had turned brilliant oranges and reds in the last few days. The mountainside was awash with colour, but even in spite of the vivid colours of the leaves, the white stallions making his way down the steep incline glowed the most noticeably.

It was one of the curses of the pale ones. And in the fall there really wasn't much Thambaroo could do about it. But the wise stallion took comfort in the fact that his small herd was alone, nothing would be able to sneak up on them on this barren slope. Besides, they would reach cover soon.

The older grey stallion turned his head to whicker softly to Mullara, his dusky hued mate. Unlike his own coat, Mullara's soft pelt was well adapted to camouflage her on this rocky peak. He nudged her lovingly before glancing over his shoulder to check on his son, Yaraan.

Though not quite as pale, Yaraan never the less also stood out on this rocky mountainside. Beside the buckskin walked a young filly, Yaraan's first mare of sorts, though the colt would unlikely be able to hold her were he not within the security of a larger herd. Thambaroo hoped his obstinate son had absorbed enough of his and Mullara's teachings to be able to keep himself and a herd safe, even with his milky coat. Not that the older stallion minded having the youngsters along but there would come a time when it would only be right for Yaraan to go off on his own.

As the faint trail ahead of them leveled out, Thambaroo broke into a long-strided trot, seeking to cover as much of this open territory in the shortest time possible. A faint autumn breeze lifted his mane and the huge stallion couldn't help but duck his head and buck, just for the sheer joy of it. He may be older, perhaps nearing the autumn of his own life in a few short years, but he still enjoyed living. Mullara had given him that. He called to her, his grey brown mate, urging her to run with him along this mountain path.

Finally Thambaroo's life was whole, he was happy. He had no desire to add to his herd, as long as he could spend the rest of his years with his Mullara he would be content.

[Corowa]

There were very few trees in this country of bare snowgrass ridges and great granite tors – the horns of the Ramshead Range. The small mob of horses had grazed their way steadily northwards, travelled by way of the Brindle Bull, then up past the steeps crags, rounded snowgrass summits, of the lower Ramshead ranges. Climbing down the steep grassy spur, Mullara realised how clearly visible they were on these open slopes. Too nervous to graze, the mare nibbled on snowgrass as they went. For the wind had picked up around the Ramshead Peaks, gusted around the rock tors of this rough country, moaning, icy wind from the north.

Thambaroo led them down the wide grassy slope. On this shoulder of the Ramshead, the wide open plain dropped steeply away, down into the Leather Barrel Valley. The pale grey stallion gave his throbbing call, and Mullara sprang forward at a gallop. The white heads of the candleheath moved in the wind, whirled around and around so the air seemed full of it. The mare felt the touch of the heath-laden wind as it teased the brumbies, seemed suddenly alive, as it raced over the snowgrass plain.

As the plain grew rougher, Mullara already heavily in foal, stopped to get her breath. The mare stood and listened, feeling within herself the stirrings of her unborn foal, as if it too listened and waited. She felt something moving within her to answer the very winds, felt it in Yaraan’s wild call, as if he alone could proclaim this country as his. When Thambaroo stopped there beside her, the mare rested her head on his withers, glad to feel him warm beneath her touch.

Yaraan, unaware of anything but this beautiful filly beside him, had not seen the candleheath rising in the air, did not hear the voices singing in the wind. When suddenly, Thambaroo bounded away over the grassy ridge-top, the colt could not let him go far without chasing after him. Almost impatiently, Yaraan cantered down the wide grassy slope, leaping from snowgrass tussock to snowgrass tussock. He barely seemed to touch the snowgrass, so swiftly did he run.

A huge tor rose from the ridge, and the colt propped to a standstill on the high edge of granite rock. He felt within him all the longing of a young stallion, and he went up on his hind legs, threw a ringing challenge to the tearing northern winds. He noticed Mullara and Thambaroo had stopped further down the grassy plain, and he swung around towards them, galloped headlong over the snowgrass. Yaraan nipped the grey stallion playfully on the rump, trotted some way ahead and reared up, offered him a mock fight.

OOC: I'm thinking they can shelter in the Leather Barrel Valley (it's a really deep valley below Kosciusko full of snowgums and a creek) and then move onto the Hidden Flat when the winter comes.

[Ehetere]

Oora quietly followed the first brumby she had sighted in the high country. His even paler father and his dusky mother led the way, as they had done since leaving that little clearing, up into the really high country, where rocky tors rose into the heavens and where the wind whispered secrets in her ear. She could barely believe that she was here; after so many years and so many dreams. She was a wild and free; a brumby.

She paused in her efficient trot to watch as Yaraan reared up high on one of those rocky tors; so much like the young Silver Brumby himself aside from his dark streaked mane. His ringing challenge to the winds held all the promise of great things to come, and she shivered with delight to think that she would be a part of them.

He then bounded off his rocky platform and over to his ghostly pale father; Thambaroo, and reared up - a clear offering of a play fight. Although Oora longed to join in as well; she now understood why the other colts had not wanted her fighting with them, and although her mother had never said it, she was sure now that she had disapproved of her daughter play fighting with stallions. So instead, she approached the colt’s smoky coated mother; who by the looks of it was going to have another foal soon. Oora knew that this meant that poor Yaraan was likely to be forced out of the small band, and she would go with him when he did.

Mullara reminded her so much of the fiery free spirit that her own mother had possessed; and Oora found herself comforted by that in all this unknown territory. She loved it up here; but it also filled her with sadness that her mother had not come with her. Surely it would be better to live out your last few years wild and free? But Oora’s mother had loved her father dearly, and she knew that he would never have been able to escape with her. So she had made the choice; and had chosen her mate over her beloved daughter in the hope that without other horses she would have a better chance at freedom.

[yaruka]

OOC: Sound good to me Corowa I brought in Kaleena now as otherwise we'd have to wait until late spring as she'd never find them in the valley

BIC:

Thambaroo was delighted to have Mullara run with him, it seemed to him for just a moment that it was only he and this beautiful brown mare beside him that existed, that they alone were here for the wind to tease. But of course, this was not the case, and all to soon he was reminded of this as Mullara began to flag, feeling the effort of running while so heavily in foal. Thambaroo slowed beside her, nuzzling her anxiously to make sure that she was alright. Perhaps he should not have encouraged her to run today, he would have to be more careful in the future. He had not fully realised just how heavily pregant she had become in only the last week. This foal, though still unborn, seemed to grow with uncanny speed. But perhaps that was just how it seemed to Thambaroo, a stallion who would never quite understand the miracle of birth. He nosed his mate gently, reassured himself that she was alright, before paying any heed to the two young horses.

Suddenly, Yaraan's still shrill call rang out over the mountains. The colt spun about and raced over to him, nipping him playfully on the rump before dancing backwards a few steps in an invitation to a mock fight. Normally the grey stallion would have no qualms about playing with, and teaching, his son, but it seemed there was another lesson to be learnt just now. Trotting forward, Thambaroo half-rose on his hindlegs and nipped his son sharply on the shoulder.
"Don't be foolish, Yaraan." He said "Now is no time for games, out in the open like this. And have you forgotten your teachings? It is not wise to call a challenge to the world when you are young and ill suited to defend yourself. Your latest stunt could bring danger upon us all." The stallion shook his head once, then looked at his son, his eyes softening slightly "I know the thrill of the wind and the mountains call your name. You will be able to answer them soon enough, but now is not the time."

Seemingly in answer to Thambaroo's warnings, another shrill whinny split the air. For a second the hair on Thambaroo's back seemed to stand on end, for in these mountains it sounded more like a ghost call than the whinny of a fellow brumby. But Thambaroo himself was named for the spirit, and he did not fear these mountains. Confidently, he raised his head and answered with his own call, one much deeper and more throbbing than the other two. He suspected the one who had answered Yaraan was a filly, though with fillies often came a stallion. So it was with caution that Thambaroo rounded up the little band of horses and faced the direction the other seemed to come from.

He did not have long to wait. Kaleena was tired, and anxious for company. She hated to admit it, but she was missing the steady prescense of the stallion Komo by her side in this strange wilderness. Though she'd never tell anyone, the strangely coloured filly had become quite fond of the gentle giant the year she had spent with him-though Komo was not, and could never be, her stallion in the all the senses of the word.

When she spotted the little group of horses she called again, eyeing the young colt with sudden enthousiasm. The buckskin was good looking, though it seemed he had already claimed another filly before her. She glanced appraisingly at young Oora, she was pretty in her own way, but Kaleena could take her. Besides, she should probably be impressed that this young colt already had a decent mare, even if he was still with his mother and father. Coyly, Kaleena ducked her head and pranced forwards, all thoughts of tiredness forgotten. She was here to impress, at least for now. The queer sooty palomino walked straight past the older horses, not a shred of respect in her sassy gait, and reached out to the colt, nostrils trembling in a silent greeting.

OOC: sorry it's kind of rushed, I don't have much time on my hands :/

[Corowa]

Yaraan squealed furiously, swinging his haunches around as he lashed out with his heels. Those bitterly cold winds made every hair stand on end and every nerve tingle madly. Then suddenly the colt whirled about and cantered away, aware of how clearly he stood out against the snowgrass and rocky tors. The yearling did not realise it was Thambaroo’s worry making him nervous, only knew the gusting wind filled him with a wild restlessness. Unable to contain himself, Yaraan stopped dead in his tracks and gave another ringing whinny. Then he sprang away faster still, and his ears swept back to listen to Thambaroo behind him.

Mullara nosed at the snowgrass, snatched a few hungry mouthfuls. Too stiff and sore and tired to go much further, the mare simply stood with four legs splayed wide apart to brace herself. She longed to rest, but on this bare snowgrass ridge the stormy sky and strong winds made her uneasy. When Oora moved nearer, Mullara stretched out her nose and gave a grateful nicker. The mare was glad for the filly’s companionship. She reached over and nibbled purposefully on the filly’s shoulder. When Yaraan whinnied shrilly, the mare looked towards the rocky spur. Even enraged, Yaraan was a very good-looking horse, and Mullara realised she would miss this wild son of hers. But perhaps he would not forget his mother as was the way of the bush, for she would remember him always, this handsome creamy colt.

The Yaraan was beside her, pressed so close she could feel the pounding of his heart. Thambaroo joined them as that sudden, thrilling neigh rang out. Mare and yearling stood with heads upflung and nostrils quivering. Yaraan would have whinnied in answer, but Mullara turned and swiftly nipped him to silence. “Hush foolish one,” she said. “Thambaroo will not take kindly to you making so much noise.” He stayed very still then, filled with a sudden terrible dread. The colt watched Thambaroo intently, trembled all over at the stallion’s great trumpeting call. By now Yaraan was very excited, and he stirred restlessly. Mullara flattened her ears and snorted, and the colt tossed up his head as the white showed in his eyes. And over one grassy slope, a strange brumby appeared.

The filly’s mane and tail glistened silver, and sunlight flashed in the dark brown of her coat. Yaraan stood absolutely still and stared at her. The yearling was fascinated by the beautiful filly, realised it was not for Thambaroo alone she stood in the bars of early morning sunlight. The colt gave a sudden, throbbing neigh, filled with all the longing of a young stallion. She was a beautiful filly, born to run with a stallion such as himself, to race swift as the whirlwind over the snowgrass. When the filly extended her nose to his, Yaraan trembled all over with excitement. The young colt returned the filly’s gentle greeting, sniffed her curiously, feeling the fine hairs in his ears tingle. The filly certainly was unusual and Yaraan wondered where she had come from, this shining filly, brilliant as the snow daisies. For did she run with another somewhere in this high, rough country?

[Ehetere]

The air was tense as Thambaroo rounded the small band up and headed them all away. Oora did not have to be a brumby to realize that something about Yaraan’s behavior had worried him. And then an answer to Yaraan’s far flung cry came, and Oora’s ears pricked up. It was the call of another filly. Thambaroo, not Yaraan answered her, and it dawned on Oora that this really was Thambaroo’s herd and not Yaraan’s. She was here because Thambaroo tolerated it.

A long filly trotted over a ridge above them, throwing another wild, high pitched call down. Oora tensed slightly and threw her head up to get a better look at her. She was scrawny in Oora’s opinion, and her dirty brown coat looked as though it was poorly taken care of. And her silvered mane was all tufted and matted… Overall Oora thought herself much prettier. What she refused to acknowledge however was that her eyes were likely to be bright green at this stage with envy. She was jealous.

Oora watched tersely as Yaraan squealed and trotted over to the filly, sniffing her all over and greeting her as if she was the most beautiful mare in all of the high country. Her jealousy was made worse by the fact that she had never wanted to call herself a stallion’s mate before. She had never experienced this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that some might call love. And she thought that Yaraan had wanted her too. But perhaps love did not really exist for stallions. They were simply looking for the best ways to collect mares for their herds. Oora simply glared icily at the sooty coloured filly and let her and Yaraan greet one another, unable to lift her ears into a mock gesture of happiness or contentment, leaving them partially laid back.

Fine, she thought, let them play their games. If Yaraan decided that he wanted the other filly more than she, who was older and prettier and obviously had more manners by not barging in and interrupting people, then she would simply leave. There was nothing he would be able to do about it. She didn’t really belong to him after all. She was free in this new land, able to go where she pleased. He was not old enough to keep her there.

[yaruka]

Thambaroo snorted softly as the the new filly pushed past him and towards his son. The action had been decidely disrespectful, but now was not the time to get all uptight about manners. Safety was more important at this stage.

"Tell me, Young Filly, where do you come to us from? Are you alone on this fine fall morning?" asked the stallion, ignoring the eager way in which his son had greeted this latest shining filly. He was fairly certain that this mare was alone, but should she already have a herd it would not be wise for Yaraan to be seen in such close proximity to her. Thambaroo himself had never been one for flashy colours but he knew that this filly would be quite the prize for some of his kind. He himself could fight off the other stallion, but it wouldn't do to win all his son's battles for him, it wouldn't help him in the long run.
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Kaleena's skin had shivered slightly at the curious colt's touch, nickering softly to him she tossed her head so that her silken mane danced lightly in the breeze. But the filly wasn't able to completely ignore the grey stallion, and at his words, laid her ears back dismissively.

"My name is Kaleena, the Snow Daughter," she snorted, "Rest assured Stallion, I do not belong to anyone but myself, and perhaps the snow for which I was named." And then she was back to eyeing the colt appraisingly, completely oblivious to the fact that, if looks could kill, she'd be quite dead by Oora's eyes already.
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Tham shook his head, slightly frusterated at the filly's audacious nature, but relieved all the same that Yaraan hadn't brought any more danger on the herd, yet. Thambaroo was a patient stallion, and so he decided not to ask of Kaleena anymore information just now, his priority being to get them all somewhere more sheltered. If this new filly wanted to come with them, well then that was fine. But the herd was moving now, before something less benign showed up.
"Come, we should go now, down the slope," he said, "Mullara, will you be alright to go on a little longer?"

If Thambaroo had truly known Kaleena then perhaps he might not have thought her so benign. The filly had completely ignored the stallion's latest comments, too busy flirting and showing off for Yaraan. She was definately going to be an element of discord among the herd at some stage.

As Thambaroo went over to see Mullara he reflected that perhaps it was high time Yaraan went off on his own with his two fillies. In the past month his family had grown from three horses to a full fledged herd. Yaraan's new fillies would put them all in danger from younger stallions this spring. Thambaroo had tolerated one filly tagging along, but two was pushing it. If it weren't for Mullara's deep affection towards her son he would have told Yaraan right then and there that he would have to leave come Spring. But the grey stallion couldn't bring himself to do that to Mullara just yet. And he was quite fond of his own son anyways, no need to cause tension. Still, when the warm winds blew and Mullara gave birth to their latest foal, Yaraan and his risky mares would have to go, Thambaroo had his mate to take care of.

OOC: it's choppy also, I was thinking, maybe we could tie up the thread this round of replies seeing as this thread is 2 seasons behind. Let me know what you think

[Corowa]

Yaraan stirred and shook himself, for he had stood so tense all over, staring at this filly and her provocative dance. In one moment, he was suddenly aware of Oora beside him, and for once the young mare stood absolutely still. Yaraan wondered at her stillness, for surely she would be pleased for the companionship of another young mare. So why was it she watched this brown filly so intently? The colt had begun to feel uneasy, for he could sense the mare’s resentment towards the filly, even if he only half-understood it. Perhaps she longed for another stallion to run with, for he was only young, and she was very beautiful. Yaraan looked round and saw Kaleena slowly advancing, but then the colt turned to Oora, rubbed her ears with his nose for he loved her dearly.

The young stallion nibbled purposefully on her shoulder a moment, filled with worry over his favourite mare. How did Thambaroo make sure Mullara was content, for his mother had never had such a strained look about her. Kaleena was obviously interested in him, but Yaraan dismissed the brown filly with a toss of his head. “What is wrong with you my mate?” he asked softly. “I know you are unhappy. Do you long to run with another, a stallion both stronger and wiser?” Even Thambaroo it seemed, had been bothered by the new filly, splendid as she was. For one of the first times in his life, the colt was suddenly unsure, for though he was intrigued by the brown filly and longed to have her run with him, he did not think he could stand to lose Oora.

Mullara looked on with interest, as her son greeted the brown filly. The mare was fascinated by her handsome creamy son, for he was so full of life and high spirits, as brilliant as the bars of sunlight. Feeling every hair stand on end, the mare turned then to Thambaroo, for the two horses were connected by something too great for even her to understand. Mullara could easily see how was worried by the filly, and she longed to reassure him with the tenderness of her touch. In this wide open country, the stallion seemed so much more nervous, and she wondered what it was he was so afraid of. Mullara blew softly through her nostrils, for she realised then perhaps Thambaroo wanted Yaraan and his fillies gone. While the mare was amused by the volatile filly, she could sense she would bring trouble to them all. For Mullara knew she would drive Kaleena from the mob, and Yaraan with her, if another stallion came for her.

Now he was sure the filly was alone, Thambaroo turned his attention towards her, and the mare greeted him with a soft whinny. Even though she was glad to feel him so close beside her, to be with this stallion she had run with for so many seasons, she knew now they must hurry. The mare looked anxiously to where black clouds moved over the mountains, and there was a bitterness to the wind that told of snow and blizzards and death. “Do not worry so much my mate,” she said wisely. “Yaraan is only young, and while I do not know how long he will hold those fillies for, I will not be the one to take away his moment of joy.” Mullara nipped him then, told him not to worry, for it would be winter soon, and no time to fight.

The mare could sense his impatience to move on, and she too longed to be down in the shelter of the snowgums, where the winds did not blow so hard. Suddenly unable to stand still for any longer, Mullara turned and called Yaraan to her. The young stallion answered with a ringing neigh, and she watched as he gathered up both fillies. For now at least, he still listened to her wisdom, but surely soon he would challenge Thambaroo and perhaps her too. Mullara could see it in the proud way he held himself, so much pride for one so young. But such was the way of the bush, and soon she would have a new foal at her side, and she could perhaps forget her splendid creamy son, even if something deep inside of her, would always remember. Then suddenly, Yaraan was there, and the colt lashed out playfully with his heels so the mare squealed with pleasure and swung away after him.

OOC: I think that sounds like a good idea. Then I can start up a new thread with Mullara and Yangoora.