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Post by Cheyenne on Sept 21, 2009 17:08:17 GMT
The chestnut mare lifted her head from the cool blue water and gazed down at her reflection and saw her large brown eyes glaring back at her. She glanced into the small group of trees swaying silently in the wind and sighed. The unfamiliar country made her fell extreemly nervous and lonely. She lifted her neck high and neighed loudly hoping to see some company but jumped as she heard a small rustle coming from behind the bushes. She paused for a moment before going to investigate but it was only a small dingo with her pups. It glared at her. "What beautiful pups you have" Cheyenne asked and pressed her nose against one of the pups soft fur. The siver dingo relaxed a little then replied "Thank you" before setting of towards the group of trees. The mare lifted her head again and let out another lonely neigh and waited for an answer.
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Post by Cheyenne on Sept 27, 2009 12:22:50 GMT
She listened but heard no answering neigh. The mare leaped easily on to a nearby rock and reared and danced and let out another neigh, her chestnut coat gleaming in the sun. She neighed loudly again and then went silent, listening for a reply.
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Post by Tiggs on Sept 27, 2009 18:36:40 GMT
With the bush alive with sounds, the dappled filly walked along the winging paths, her head low and gait long and loose. She seemed content, and as she started in a high-stepping trot where the hill became steeper, she truely seemed one with the high country.
The young mare was to-years-old. Her face was white, peppered with the occasional dark hair. Her lower legs were also white, darkening near the knee only to turn into a light dappled rose over the rest of her body. Her mane and tail were a dark brown, though laced with one or two white hairs that suggested she would one day be entirely grey. The hair was long, and her tail would catch on bushes and her mane fell over one side of her face. But this did not seem to hinder her, and she climbed the long sloping mountainside with ease.
Near the top, she heard a distant call. Unsure if she should reply, she continued upward until she heard it again. Rather than call out and attracted unwanted attention, she hurried her trot and crested the basin that held the lake. Down near the water, posed on a rock was a chestnut mare. The dapple grey saw no others, so she whinnied her greeting and loped down to meet her.
Mayrah travelled alone much these days. Her mother had other interests, and with another foal on the way, she could not expect her mother to dote on her much longer. The filly did not mind, for that was the way of the bush, and it was about time she found her own friends.
Tossing her head in a futile attempt to remove her forelock from her face, she bobbed her head to the chestnut. “Greetings.” Her voice was soft and melodic. “My name is Mayrah – are you alone? Is that why you called?” The younger female was curious and earnest. She meant the mare no harm, and she wished for company.
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Post by stormsnow on Sept 27, 2009 21:09:40 GMT
Another shape moved behind the two mares. It was a tall, muscled blue roan watching the mares from behind a tree. His silver-blue coat shone in the weak spring sunlight. His long black mane and tail remained still, but his dark-brown eyes were soaking up every detail of the brumbies in front of him.
Barwon moved from his hiding place to greet the them. The stallion trotted up to them, waiting until the mares had introduced themselves to one another.
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Post by Cheyenne on Sept 29, 2009 15:18:19 GMT
The chestnut mare bowed her head in greeting to the two brumbys and gazed at them through her large brown eyes, happy that she now had some company. "My name is Cheyenne, meaning sweet and brave. I was alone and yes - " she nodded at Mayrah " - that is why I called". She turned towards the handsome stallion and asked "May I know your name?"
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Post by stormsnow on Sept 29, 2009 20:31:13 GMT
Barwon dipped his head. "My name is Barwon, O charming Cheyenne and beautiful Mayrah. I was named for the river, beside which I was born," he neighed softly. They were both beautiful young mares. Barwon had been a loner for a long time now, but of recent months, he sought mares to join him, to form a herd.
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Post by Cheyenne on Sept 30, 2009 16:38:29 GMT
"Greetings Barwon" Cheyenne nickered, tossing her golden mane so it caught the sunlight and made it glow. She glanced across Lake Cootapatamba looking down at the clear, still water then said "Why is a handsome stallion like you out here alone?"
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Post by stormsnow on Sept 30, 2009 21:49:33 GMT
The blue roan's eyes danced as he replied, "I have been a loner for many long years now. I have not met many other brumbies during my ramble across the high country, for I do not like to draw attention. But now, I crave the companionship of my own kind," he finished, eyeing Cheyenne and her companion with polite interest.
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Post by Cheyenne on Oct 1, 2009 17:15:20 GMT
"I too, have come looking for some company as I have been alone for many years now" She said proudly. "When I turned 3, I left my mother to travel around Mountain Kosciusko and made friends with the kind grey kangaroos but after a few years I desired the company of another brumby". A calm breeze lifted her long forelock out of her eyes.
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Post by stormsnow on Oct 1, 2009 20:23:27 GMT
Barwon whickered, "O sweet Cheyenne, will you join me and be the first mare in my herd?" His long, black mane tumbled around his face, buffeted by the wind. His heart was thumping and he was feeling something he had longed to experience, seen and heard about it, but never had felt before.
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