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Post by yaruka on Dec 27, 2009 0:12:41 GMT
As the silvery stallion approached Booralie noted curiously that he seemed to have eyes for no other but her. Still trembling in excitement, she ducked her head in a false display of shyness as he extended his nose to hers. She was just about to reach out with her own when the mare beside her reacted, striking out with one of her front legs. Booralie started slightly, snorting softly in protest, for while she was glad for the display of protection, she was equally fascinated by this strange new colt. Beside her Illaroo stood anxiously, nodding once in return to Mering's acknowledgement but troubled by the other colt's words. Surely he could see that Booralie was too young to go off with some stallion just yet? And his words were rather intense for one who had just come across another filly...he wondered at the colt's motives, suddenly more troubled by his forwardness. The creamy coloured stallion's only reaction to the black colt's nip on his shoulder was to flinch slightly, he was far too focused on the other strange horses surrounding him and sister. How could he have gotten themselves into such a mess? Letting Booralie come along was seeming like a worse and worse idea. The sudden charge of the dun stallion only confirmed his concerns. Startled, the colt threw his head up, moving to protect Booralie in whatever way he could. The older stallion rounded their little group a few times, notably enraging the dark mare.
Booralie stood in the midst of all the commotion, eyes wide but still unafraid. While other fillies might have shied away, Booralie held her head proudly, young gaze unfaltering and unaffected by the menancing nature of the dun. She was just about to answer the dun's question when he was off again. She watched him curiously, turning to nuzzle the black colt when he nickered to her. The mare's furious reply to the stallion caught her interest, and she noted with surprise her mention of "The King." That certainly sounded exciting, she'd have to beg Ilaroo to try and find this "King" once they left this odd plain... The grulla mare was now approaching the dun, forcing Booralie's thoughts back to the present. The black colt beside her moved to follow, but was sent back to her side and the little dun turned to nuzzle him once again. She liked Bunderra, they could be friends she thought. Her breathing coming in short, excited bursts, she looked from the anxious Illaroo to the bold prescense of that other queer stallion so close to her. She was still miffed by his interest in her, being too young to understand the ways of older colts and fillies.
OOC: I know it's horrible, but at least it's done :/
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Post by Rivre on Jan 11, 2010 19:22:02 GMT
OOC; RIGHT. I can't imagine how long I have been gone and how long this thread has been at a stand-still but I am UTTERLY sorry for my absence, and I will be posting a reply if you all want to continue? Just post a 'yes' or a 'no' and I'll do it ;D
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Post by Rivre on Jan 11, 2010 19:35:30 GMT
If not for the somewhat rude arrival of the dun, Mering would perhaps have persued his interest in the little filly, but along with his annoyance he was also shocked into the reality of his own quick actions, taking up a defensive position in front of Booralie, but also one that showed he was intent only on helping to protect not to fight. Energy wasted on roaring challenges would be wasted energy enough, and as such he would remain quiet only to answer the queries which spun in his mind so restlessly. "Of what do you want amoung us today o' dun stallion of the snows, for you seem to have the scent of many mares upon you. It would be unwise to leave them... Unless of course, you have done so in good faith that they will be there when you return?". His nicker was reserved and calm, although his eyes told of the confusion and anger which stirred in his heart. What did he plan to acheive from mocking the smaller and less powerful? "I would ask that you leave, but I'm sure you would protest, we meet here in friendship and nothing more. Share it or leave."
It was unlike him, Mering of the earth, to be so openly brutal with a stallion of many years above him, but he himself was nearing the age of three now, and the muscle which laced his torso was well developed and primed for a stallion of such a young age. He did not fear the wrath of this horse, for he thought him easy to out-run and himself the nimbler of the two. As he pondered and waited for his answer, he arched his neck once more, and let his gaze flicker to the pretty filly standing beside him, nickering softly in reasurance, "All will be well, your brother is a fine horse and I will help not hinder if it comes to a fight. Whether it be a fight of wit or strength, two horses will almost always beat one."
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Post by aquiladorado on Jan 12, 2010 0:09:10 GMT
The harsh voice of the mare caught him off guard. Yunkara raised his head questionably and took a step back, all thoughts of spies watching him vanishing from his head. He cocked his large skull to the side as the eldest Brumby approached him, while leaving her young colt behind, with a grace that seemed to cause the snow beneath her feet to vanish and support her with sturdy ground. The thing was brave, he had to give her that. His thick, sooty neck shook and his mane hovered magnificently above it before relaxing back into its natural position. Yunkara stared her down with a vicious glance of his own, only in hopes to provoke her further. After all, this was the fun he had hoped to find!
The large buckskin was amused at the mare’s words. His play on the King had only been a means of intimidation, yet here stood one of his mares! Yunkara immediately felt a sour mood coming on. He knew better than to toy with a mate of a Brumby in high power, and therefore this whole encounter would turn into a waste of time. He had not replied to the threats of the mare and had not thought of any of his own – Yunkara simply stood where he was, the mare’s readied hind leg maintaining that decision. For a time, he almost forgot about the rest of the group. His attention was captivated in full by the bold mare, and it could have stayed that way for a while if the juvenile stallion had not abused his respect.
Yunkara’s ears moved to lay flat against his head as he slowly turned to face the colt. A splotchy blue mess was a more suitable title. The humiliation he would cause himself by standing up to an older stallion was more than enough, so the sooty stallion decided to be generous. His dark eyes gleamed for an instant in the satisfaction that he had angered the colt. That, and the fact that the colt figured he had a herd. Yunkara flinched briefly at the mention of it, but the statement only fueled his anger. His temper began to rise and he whipped past the mare, as if she were no more than a bush in his way, until he found himself behind the young roan. His posture was tense, the muscles hard and enforcing under his pelt. The stallion curled back his lips to show his massive teeth and struck at the blanket of snow with a forefoot, arching his neck as the white particles rose around him from the pressure of his hoof. Yunkara’s temper ignited into a ball of flame – untamed and ruthless, able to dance his way through a battle easily.
His voice held a mocking tone to it as it rang through the clearing, overpowering any other sound. The shrill whinny that parted his lips surprised himself. ”Foolish, foolish colt. You stand as if you would be able to stop me, as if you could protect these Brumbies? Yet you taunt an older stallion in a way that contradicts your intentions.”[/b] Yunkara sent his gaze bearing down on the colt, the original humor he had showed lost as his eyes returned to their blank darkness. ”I shall go wherever I want, stay wherever I please. And if you would like to do something to try to stop me...”[/b] His deep voice was bitter and cold. ”You would stand no chance in a fight against me. Because you, I can tell, would not risk the filly that you could lose,”[/b] Yunkara said as he gestured his head at Booralie. The small spark was set off in his eyes again as he continued. ”I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose. While you may smell mares on me, I take part of no herd. I do not fight for mares – I fight for pleasure.”[/b]
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Post by Rivre on Jan 13, 2010 18:12:16 GMT
Mering stared intently at the figure of the older stallion, judging the way he stood and the lie of his muscle, comparing himself; he was a three year old born in the depths of winter and he was full of strength, but not equal to this horse, he was young and he was fresh but he had only fought once, and if what the dun said was to be true, he fought for the pleasure of the fight. Around him the tension of the silent bush seemed to press in on his slate grullo hide-his darker points bold against the blank canvas of white- warning him of a danger quickly approaching. And yet, he knew he would not leave this filly to any other, that she must be his one day, as Kiah must also. Carefully, he drew himself up, neck arched and foreleg pawing at the snow, mirroring the other stallion proudly and in that moment knew himself to be beautiful and knew that he would escape. "I have no interest in fighting, you may do as you please," he nickered, dipping his head slowly but retaining the dignity of his posture, lobes and eyes flickering to Booralie as his attention averted. "Come away with me" he called, loud enough that all of the small gathering would have heard, filled with pride but also a question, he would not make her come, "And I will show you the world. I will ghost you away with a stallion who disperses into mist himself when danger threatens, I will protect you." Reaching his quivering nose to touch hers, he turned neatly to address the other stallion, and what appeared to be this filly's brother. "I was born into this world by an intelligent mare, she taught my the ways of her silver creamy ancestors and I have come to know this country like my own hooves. Nothing will touch this filly, I will give my life for her if need be." As he spoke, in a sudden thought he became aware of the truth behind his own words, anger and determination filling his tones as he braced his muscles for an answer; the anger was out of protectivness and out of a pure desire to do well. He was a young stallion now, not a colt and he was as wild and as free as the wind, and the stars and the moon which rode a dark heavens. He wanted very much to be friends with this young colt and he blew softly through his nostrils and attempted to bump his nose also.
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