Newcomers [Aquiladorado and Corowa] :)

[yaruka]

OOC: Short,...sorry :/

BIC:

It was a bitterly cold day in the High Country, though the first day without falling snow for weeks. Across the barren expanse of Paddy Rush's bogong struggled two horses, heads bowed against the wind and legs churning the thick snow that covered even the more sheltered ground of the Bogong.

The beginning of winter had not been a good time to leave the herd, not that Illaroo had had any choice in the matter. Still, the colt thought to himself that Booralie, at least, did not have to be here in this frozen wasteland. He should never have let her come along with him, not that she wouldn't have followed regardless of what he'd said. Still, this was irresponsible, he should have stopped her somehow.....

The little dun filly was cheerful enough though, pausing between laboured breaths to comment on their surroundings. "Isn't the snow beautiful Illaroo?" she gasped "Look at how white and pure it is! There must not have been brumbies in this part for the whole winter! Or maybe there were, but the snow covered their tracks too quickly for us to notice!" The silverly colt sighed softly, little Booralie hadn't stopped talking since they'd left it seemed. Not that she was all that little anymore, his younger sister was nearing a year. Another reason why he shouldn't have let her come along (or relented and pretended she wasn't following.) How was he supposed to protect her come spring? He wasn't all that strong or skilled in combat, and who knew if some stallion or colt up here might take a fancy to her? Almost everyone seemed to take an instant liking to Booralie after all.....

The two horses continued in this way for some time, until the wind finally died down a bit and Illaroo took the oppertunity to raise his head and scent the air. All of a sudden he stiffened and his ears pricked farther forward. If he concentrated really hard he thought he could just smell...No, it couldn't be. They had seen no tracks. But then Booralie was right, the snow had fallen pretty quickly... As if reading his thoughts the filly bounded over to him "What is it?" she asked, barely able to conceal the hint of excitement in her voice.


OOC: heheh....well. It's a start...

[Corowa]

Durroon lifted her head from the snowgrass. The mare stirred nervously, and looked to the handsome black colt. Bunderra was nearly a yearling now, long-limbed and with the promise of swiftness. Both mare and colt stood out clearly against the snow. And it was to the snow Durroon had lost her mate. She remembered last winter when there had been such terrible sorrow and loss in the High Country, when even the currawongs had sung of sadness. Too young to understand all that the wind told of, Bunderra watched Durroon intently, for she was surely listening for something in the moan and cry of the wind.

Even when the snow stopped falling, the wind blew harder and harder. The mare and yearling sheltered in a stand of snowgums. There was snowgrass here beneath the snow, and occassionally the two horses would graze, twitching an ear at the wind as it tore through the grassy flats, tossing up their heads in fright when further down the flat a snowgum fell in a great cracking of branches. Durroon turned to Bunderra and nuzzled him, for the yearling trembled all over. The colt was very afraid of storms and blizzards, did not like the roar of the wind or the cold, wet touch of snow. And when the mare moved from the shelter of the trees, the yearling stood undecided. For a moment the mare was visible in this blinding world of whiteness. Then she vanished, and Bunderra leapt suddenly out from under the trees.

Durroon stood on one grassy slope, head upflung and nostrils quivering. The mare turned southwards, longing showing in every line of her body. She heard Bunderra behind her, and as the colt crept nervously closer, she touched her nose to his ears, blew softly through her nostrils to reassure the anxious yearling. Then mare and yearling picked their way down the wide snowgrass slope, though Bunderra floundered in the deeper drifts. Durroon moved southwards, to the lower country of the Cascades, to where the great black stallion ran with his mob of mares.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and threw up her head, listening. Bunderra turned curiously to her, stretched out his nose to touch her shoulder, worried by some sense of sorrow and loss. For what was it she was so urgently seeking in those harsh south winds? Durroon nipped him playfully so he squealed and went up on his hind legs. For a moment the two brumbies played there in the deep snow, whirling and striking, rearing and kicking. Then Durroon became completely still, and Bunderra came to stand beside her. For on one grassy rise, two brumbies stood outlined clearly by the snow. The mare and yearling stood quietly watching the two brumbies, and then, unable to contain himself, Bunderra gave a sudden, sobbing cry.

The colt sprang swiftly away, cantered over the soft snow, filled with a wild joy. Durroon sprang forward herself, cantered down the long slope after the colt. She was right there beside him when Bunderra propped abruptly on his haunches. Durroon stopped in her tracks, trembling all over with excitent as she tried to get her breath. Bunderra arched his neck proudly, and moved towards the two brumbies. His ears pricked as he gently sniffed the colt’s flank, and he gave the yearling a playful nip. Meanwhile, Durroon extended her nose to the handsome dun filly, wondered that such a young horse should be alone. “Have you no mob, young one?” the mare asked. For it had been an unusually harsh winter, with heavy snow and tearing, gusting winds. Even bush-wise Durroon had struggled to find good grazing, and she wondered how these two young brumbies had not perished.

[Rivre]

OOC: Yaruka, I believe you invited me to join in this thread with you, is that still okay? I'm not sure if you have a post order or anything going on here, so I'm INCREDIBLY sorry if I've just messed up your whole board.

BIC:

For a while, he had traveled over the frozen open plains, a silver colt in the bright white mass, careful daggers piercing the unbroken surface, like a blanket wrapped across the land; lobes pitched forwards, velvet nose quivering, he began to arch the curvature that was his neck, his elegant trot smoothing to a walk as the silk ice, hidden by the unrelenting snow, greeted unwelcome hooves. So much for traveling to the foothills, if the snow still hadn't melted here, he doubted the fact that any should have subsided in an area as precarious as that.
Plowing onwards, he eyed the occasional cluster of pale barks in wonder, the wattle flower, which stood out, colourful, against the starkness of the compact bleakness, wavering absently as the faint breeze lifted it's new petals, grazing enough for perhaps a wombat. Suppressing the sudden urge to call his wild ringing neigh to the slopes, he let the pace increase once more, this time to a canter; being quite unable to remain untraceable, he deemed it fit to travel faster than usual, although, not too great a deal louder.
The plain seemed to incline a little here, the snow becoming lesser as he leapt his way up the far bank, eyes keen on the horizon, churning up the ground to a muddy pulp, and preferring the leap rather than race his way of the peak. Pausing suddenly on what was the very top of the rise, he inclined his head south, ears flickering as he began to pick up a different current altogether; that of other horses. Turning neatly on his heel he slid slowly to the left, disturbing the snow little on his way, so that he stood, half concealed by a candlebark, as he picked out two shapes, no, now four, joined by another two, moving towards him.
It were far more likely, to be a stallion and his herd, but from the shape of his torso, and the apparent youngness of the sweet dun filly, he was led to believe otherwise. The beauty of the filly was plain in the way she walked, her careful, joyous nature - her dainty head and strange sandy colouring; a prize for any stallion, or colt, for that matter. He doubted her anymore than a yearling, if that, and the colt young himself, perhaps his own age. As he watched, he thought how irregular his meetings with colts had become, dwindled to nothing, and how nice it would be, to have the company of other juvenile horses, to romp in the snows, to gallop the flats, to start a herd with...
If he were cautious, as cautious as Thowra had once been traveling the path of men, he could approach them as a friend rather than an opponent; shifting slightly, so that he were more in view than before, he raised his head carefully, a few drops of nearly frozen liquid falling to his hide form the shrub, to nicker loudly, but gently, a friendly greeting, "It is I Mering, named so for the earth to which I am so attuned."
This indeed would be interesting, for another of the mob, appeared to be a colt.

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[yaruka]

OOC: no worries Rivre I think it's fine, though this thread is a bit older so it's still set in winter just so you're aware I'm going to wait for AquilaDorado to get a chance to post something, then I'll reply after

[aquiladorado]

OOC: I'M COMING I SWEAR LOL. AND HERE I AM Well here Yunkara is considering AquilaDorado and Guyra are currently stranded atop Mount. Kosciusko...

A small group of Brumbies began to form in the space beneath him, and Yunkara watched them curiously. The snow was barely an obstacle for him, and he patiently waited on his look-out oblivious to the cold that surrounded him. His eyes were bare as he gazed upon the other horses, a young colt and filly who were soon joined by a mare and her young foal. He was just starting to get bored and lose his patience when another young stallion trumpeted a formal greeting to the others, and Yunkara couldn't help but feel a smirk coming over his features. 'Now things can start to get interesting,' he thought to himself as he started his descent into the open land. The powerful muscles rippled under his coat as he was carried towards the Brumbies with his large stride. 'Foolish colts, traveling the lands and unable to protect what little mares they have.'

The closer he got to the other horses, the more his heart started to race as he eyed up the prizes he could claim from the young stallions, until he considered the option that now was not the right time for a battle. Yunkara was not really in a mood to fight, nor was he very determined to gather mares until he had set a growing issue straight. But there was always room for an exception...

[yaruka]

The playful squeals of two strange horses caught his attention quite suddenly, and ears pricked curiously, Illaroo strained his eyes to watch the approach of a mare and her young one across the expanse of snow. Suddenly, the younger black colt seemed to notice them, and squealing, charged across the snow towards them, his mother close on his heels.

Illaroo snorted in surprise as the black charged into their midst, but not fearing the colt's exuberant but harmless behaviour, allowed the colt to investigate them, breathing in his scent for future reference. Booralie, meanwhile, was delighted with the company, and shook with excitement as the black colt came among them, answering his playful nip with a sharp squeal before extending her nose softly to his, blowing out warm air through her nostrils so that it curled like smoke in the cold air.

The mare gently extended her nose to Booralie, and suddenly feeling shy, Booralie ducked her head a second before bumping her small muzzle against the black one. At the mare's kind words the filly instantly lost any pretense of timidness and replied quite clearly and cheerfully, "Illaroo is my mob now, for a strange stallion drove our stallion from the herd, and I did not wish to live among such brustishness." Her bright eyes were alight with enthousiasm at meeting new horses, and without hesitation she added "I am Booralie, named for the stars."
Suddenly another voice met her ears, and spinning to face it, Booralie's eyes met the appearance of another young horse. Eagerly, she answered his nicker with a friendly one of her own, inviting him forth to talk with them.
Illaroo, meanwhile, had grown concerned at the appearance of the other colt, seemingly about his own age. The black yearling had been one thing, surely no threat to Booralie, but this grey coloured one, well he was another matter entirely. He was well aware that Booralie was more than a prize for any male, and he did not wish to lose his sister at such a young age to a strange horse. His anxiety was only heightened by the appearance of yet another stallion, this one seemingly more threatening than the other. For this sooty coloured buckskin moved with the confidence of one who was used to getting his own way.
Booralie, too, had noticed the approaching stallion, and quite overwhelmed by all that had passed in the last few moments, stood shaking, gaze flickering from the colt and mare, to the silver grullo, to this new buckskin

[Rivre]

The beauty of the sandy filly captivated him, her hide of stark wonder against the cold actuality of the winter world was radiant and fine; every line of her perfectly neat torso fit the contours of his orbs, lobes flickering as light silver mane were lifted from his damp neck. Her sweet, longing call only sweetened the promise of beauty and perfection, and he swayed, neck arched, forefoot poised and hind legs striking, the pose of a stallion no longer infatuated by the bleakness of the land which was his, and which was all of theirs, but intent on what was offered before him.
So many had come! The mare and her colt still hovering at the side of the older stallion who accompanied the sweet filly, seeming to have engaged in conversation, and yet the sights of the colt were set on him. The closeness of the pair knocked him slightly, the way he was arched for protection, and the fear that threatened violence if he, Mering, were to come closer.
Lowering his tense stance, he tried to appear more openly friendly, his strong reply lifting him in a half-rear of greeting, all the while remaining the stallion of the snowy slopes. Trotting towards them, he left the half-cover that the copse of scrub and bark offered, just making out the older and larger stallion who also seemed drawn to the meeting.
If he were not careful, this could end in yet more conflict, the wound he had received from his run-in with Kareela only just having closed; the call he had sent reverberating the mountains after Kiah, ringing clear in his ears once more.
Breaking into a canter, he kept the pace seemingly casual, but his desperate bid to greet this filly before he, was the only coherent thing in his mind.
The heavy snow flew like crystals from his path, his footfall soundless and breath even as he slid to a gentle halt a few meters from the four already gathered. Letting a soft nicker of greeting sneak through lightly parted lips, he extended his nose cautiously to the dun-like filly, nostrils quivering with excitement, but the fury of his feelings was controlled, it was dignified.
“Greetings to you, sandy filly of light and shadow, I am Mering, named for the earth to which I am so attuned. And what may be the name of a beauty such as you, for I have known none as beautiful as you who could bare any name which suited more-so”
Steadying himself, he nodded graciously to her brother, offering his nose also to the mare and her colt foal, before turning back the focus of his will; one ear always remaining trained on the approaching stallion.

[aquiladorado]

All the excitement and friendly exchanges happening in the clearing bored Yunkara on his approach, and he began to question his own actions. He thought about simply charging through the midst of horses, perhaps giving them a slight scare and then bounding out of sight, and as appealing as the idea sounded to him he still couldn't quite work up the attitude for it. He was tired, had traveled from God knows where to end up here, and really needed a rest before proceeding on his quest. 'Perhaps,' he pondered, 'a simple conversation will do me some good.'

He drew nearer and nearer to the little gathering of Brumbies; muscles of steel parting the snow beneath him, visible breaths leaving his flaring nostrils, and he bellowed to the others in an almost menacing gesture. In truth he was only calling out for attention, but it was beyond him to appear too friendly. He arched his neck further, extending his forelegs miraculously with each stride, when he saw the worry that overcame the young horses who were huddled in a tight circle while watching him intently.

Yunkara, delighted at the power the others were letting him freely take, kicked out a hind leg and raced around in a circle beyond the group. This caused them to move even closer together, and when they could move no more he charged forward and planted his hind feet a short distance from the smallest colt and raised himself into a half-rear with one last throaty sound. The Brumbies gazed at him, the worry in their eyes very apparent, while his emotionless vision stared right back at them. For a while there was silence among them, the only noticeable sound being Yunkara's deep snorts as he steadied his breathing, until he decided to speak.

"What, might I ask, do we have here?"[/i] He addressed the group in a mysterious voice, which usually appealed to most mares while at the same time struck a hint of terror into their guts. Yunkara once again eyed-up the Brumbies, now close enough to see the true beauty of the mare and the small dun filly, and whickered in amusement. "A bachelor stallion caught in the middle of nowhere, along with a helpless mare and child and a young colt accompanying a filly? Why, the lot of you have very dangerous ideas. How would you be able to defend yourselves in such a situation, especially if you were all alone, for I presume your King shant be able to help you if you had the misfortune of coming across someone... untrustworthy, perhaps?"

With what he thought was a very interesting opening statement, he started to slowly pace around the group as he awaited a response from one who would be so brave. Out of all the beasts before him, the two females seemed the most confident against his presence, but he noted the obvious concern from the mare who feared more for her young colt than herself. Yunkara thought it a good idea to change his direction, until he heard a sound that made him abrubtly stop in his tracks and launch his gaze up to the trees. The cry of a bird, or to be more specific, an eagle. He swung around in a small circle, glaring at the tree-tops and the cloudless sky above him, searching. He sent a challenging bugle on the wind, ears twitching to pick up that call of the eagle. 'Come on, show yourself!' his thoughts screamed, but he never heard the eagle again. The others were watching him questionably, so he composed himself and resumed his pacing. His sides were shaking and his eyes darted from the Brumbies he surrounded to the trees that surrounded him. 'They didn't hear it,' he realized, for most horses would have reacted to such a piercing cry. 'They didn't hear it... I must be imagining things.'

His attention was back to the small group, and his muscles began to relax with their presence. Yet he couldn't help but feel his skin crawling at the knowledge that something out there was most likely watching him.

[Rivre]

ooc: Um AD, I think it's up to the players to decide their horses reactions I know, I know, that was extremely minimal, but Mering wouldn't have been afraid of Yunkara, yet you make him sound like he is.
Great post though -high fives-

[Corowa]

Durroon blew through her nostrils in a challenge to the two-year-old. The mare stood at the side of Booralie, and when the colt touched her nose with his, she struck out swiftly with a foreleg. The mare regarded the roan colt with suspicion, and the whites showed in her eyes as she pressed her sweaty nose to his flank and told him not to stand so close. Booralie was only young, and Durroon could feel some longing to protect the filly stir deep within her.

“She is much too young to leave the side of her brother,” Durroon said lightly, and reached forward to give the colt a swift nip. Mering too was only a young stallion, and the mare thought she could easily drive him off. Durroon could see his interest in the filly was strong, but surely he realised he could not yet hope to hold her. “In the spring perhaps when she is more than a yearling she could go with you, but for now let her remain with her brother,” she said more gently, aware of how Bunderra watched the young stallion with a trembling excitement. The yearling did not understand why his mother seemed bothered by Mering, for the colt was only glad for the companionship of both Illaroo and this other splendid stallion.

Bunderra’s nose wrinkled and he gave a great squeal of excitement. The colt turned and nipped the creamy, and suddenly filled with restlessness, leapt swiftly away. Bunderra would have cantered further into the snow had not Durroon given a high nervous whinny. The yearling propped to a standstill and swung around, some sense of urgency hurrying him on, so he could feel his hide prickle with a light sweat when he arrived at his mother’s side. Durroon looked worriedly towards him as he stood, nickering shyly to the dun filly. While the filly and two colts faded into the grey light, he stood clearly outlined against the snow.

Durroon stilled, staring intently at a sheltering clump of snowgums. Bunderra rested his head on her withers and with ears pricked, watched those snow heavy branches, noticed with a sudden feeling of dread, the faintest sign of movement through the trees. For a moment, he could hear nothing but the soft sound of the wind over snow, and then a heavy looking stallion burst from the snowgums, and raced swiftly towards them. He swung around them in a wide circle, and Bunderra wondered if he meant to drive them from this grassy flat, for perhaps his mob of mares sheltered in the nearby timber.

Durroon was enraged by the stallion’s menacing, and she squealed angrily and lashed out with her heels. Bunderra looked on anxiously as the stallion bunched them more tightly together, and he threw up his head at his mother’s fierce challenge. She stood trembling violently in every limb, and the colt stared at her, for he had never seen her so furious. Indeed, the brown mare was no shy filly; she was mate to one of the strongest stallions in the High Country, and she was intent on protecting her yearling son.

Then all of a sudden, the stallion stopped, and went up on his hind legs. In the moment Yunkara stood there, Durroon could see he had the broad chest of a mature stallion, but possessed not the strength of a stallion such as Tingara. And while he was quite handsome, there was something about him, which made him seem suddenly ugly. Her nostrils curled at the sour smell of sweat, and the mare wondered at the bad-tempered stallion, for he was very restless and unable to stand still.

The mare was annoyed by his boldness, and she swung her hindquarters around towards him when he passed. “I have run with the King himself,” she said furiously, feeling herself trembling with the intensity of her fury. Her head was held high, and laying back her ears, Durroon shifted a hind leg in warning. “And you worry me no more than his yearling son!” The mare tossed her head, and walked purposefully forwards, to where the stallion paced restlessly to and fro. She stepped proudly, each movement filled with the promise of a sharp kick or hard nip. When Bunderra stirred nervously beside her, Durroon turned and told him to stay. And even though the colt whinnied shrilly in protest, he returned to the side of the dun filly.