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Post by tingara on Sept 28, 2009 11:56:04 GMT
Elegantly the black stallion that was the King of the Cascade Brumbies shook out his wet mane. Droplets of water sparkled in the sun that peered from behind heavy spring rain clouds. Tingara thought to himself that nothing signalled spring like the fresh showers it brought to the mountains. No, what was more spring than the rain were foals. The stallion was beginning to grow nervous as many of his mares were still yet to return from giving birth. He was eager to see his newborn children, all of whom he knew would be beautiful and strong like their mothers.
To distract himself he began to graze on the wet grass, enjoying the different taste the rain gave it. Soon enough the distraction that brought ended and the black stallion began to pace back and forth amongst the horses of his herd that still remained. With his tail held high he went for a gallop up the valley. His hooves pounded on the damp earth as he attempted to use up his nervous energy. As he ran he spotted a familiar shape emerging from a copse of snowgums.
”Crayola!” he whinned shrilly in excitement. Instantly he tore over to her to check on her and the foal she had with her. His soft black muzzle ran over the both of them, investigating them until he was satisfied both were well. ”And who is this?” he asked proudly of his buckskin appaloosa daughter.
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Post by Tiggs on Sept 28, 2009 12:54:08 GMT
The spotted mare and the spotted filly emerged into the valley at a slow pace. Well, Crayola was at a slow pace. Her daughter seemed to have boundless energy. Though on seeing her mate, Crayola showed some of that latent energy and trotted briskly to meet him. She nickered, pressing her nose to his cheek in a familiar gesture, returning his affection with equal enthusiasm.
“This is Copic. Copic dear, this is your father.” The mare had told her newest daughter all about her father and how lucky they were. Crayola adored Tingara, and thus far so had every one of her foals. The proud old mare nosed the white-dappled rump of her daughter encouraging her to greet her father.
Understandably, Crayola was ecstatic to have another foal. Since meeting Tingara, she had bore him a foal every year, each one unique. Copic was no exception, and Crayola knew her latest daughter would grow into a beautiful mare. With that typical dreamy smile, the mare watched her stallion and daughter acquaint themselves.
Meanwhile, apart from the other mares, the filly Quinja grazed. Since her mother had left, the grey roan filly had been enjoying life with Tingara’s herd. She and her friends and sisters would play about all day but now that mares were returning with their foals, she would be left out. She would have no new sibling to play with, and she had yet to see any colts coming by calling for her.
It was as if suddenly she was unwanted. Sighing, the filly lifted her graceful head and looked to the horizon. She should leave this herd really, find a colt or young stallion that would take her away, find new friends to play with. Snorting, the filly levelled her head with her withers and shook out her coat. Later, maybe, when darkness fell.
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Post by Corowa on Oct 2, 2009 12:13:08 GMT
The high country sung with tales of the King of the Cascade brumbies, told in the joyful cry of the currawong, and in the graceful dance of the brolga. In a glade of snowgums, the mare stood and listened with head upflung and nostrils quivering. She could feel something stir in the deepest part of herself, and she trembled with longing. Myrrina turned to where her colt lay, stretched out on his side in the snowgrass. She nosed him gently, and Tallarook lifted his head, only half-awake as he struggled to his feet.
The mare blew warm air through her nostrils, and the colt stumbled forwards when she nickered to him. Myrrina snorted with amusement and reached over to nibble on his tuft of a mane. “Come on young one,” she said impatiently. “We must reach the Brolga’s Country soon. I have no longing to spend another night alone in the bush.” Tallarook shook himself, and Myrrina stood patiently, feeling his soft nose brush her flank. Finding her bursting teats, he thrust his head under her belly and drank, and the mare swung around to nose his rump and withers. When the colt had drunk his fill, she gathered him up and drove him down into the thick timber. Mare and foal vanished into a clump of low snowgums, moving quietly as both could through the rough bush.
Myrrina turned southwards. She led Tallarook down rough slopes, into gullies filled with whippy saplings and great mountain ash. There were no stockmen to bother the two brumbies, but Myrrina wisely travelled in the shelter of the trees once they reached the lower country. She did not need to find tracks to know where Tingara had taken his mob. She found the stallion on the slope of a shallow basin, the rest of his mob scattered about a wide grassy flat. That queerly marked mare of his stood near him, and Myrrina stopped still when she noticed the mare had returned with a fine filly of her own. She waited a moment, for the mare and stallion looked so peaceful together, and then suddenly unable to contain her longing, Myrrina gave a ringing neigh.
The mare stepped shyly from the snowgums, and Tallarook walked on strongly by her side. The mare tossed her head and urged him on with a squeal, and she arched her neck proudly, half-prancing in her joy. “Tingara,” the mare said warmly, as she touched her nose tenderly to his. In this one moment, she was intensely aware of how deeply she had missed him, his gentle strength and quiet devotion. “This is Tallarook,” she said, and turned to the bay colt at her side. Tallarook stood, looking on with interest, for he was fascinated by the proud-looking stallion, and Myrrina nudged him firmly forwards. The colt gave a nervous snort, but then he stretched out his nose to the stallion and greeted him with a shrill whinny.
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Post by yaruka on Nov 4, 2009 21:56:48 GMT
OOC: Ok, I'm just going to bring Taworri in completely irrospective of the posts above, seeing as Taworri is just going to be returning from giving birth  BIC: A dark chocolately coloured mare was winding her way through the brush, shadowed by an even darker shadow. The mare's pale mane clung to her neck in it's dampness and raindrops glistened on her silky coat. The foal at her side followed dutifully, dark eyes wide with wonder, large white star only making them seem even more exaggerated than usual. He was elegant, for a newborn, long legs keeping up well with his dam's relaxed and flowing gait. Taworri and her colt had travelled the better part of the night, the full moon having provided a decent amount of light, especially for a Moon Filly and her get. Now it was midday and they were finally reaching the outskirts of the King's large herd. As she stepped cautiously from the shelter of the brush, Taworri nickered in greeting to the other mares, looking for Durron in particular. She did not spot the wise old mare though, so, turning to the sound of his voice, she walked up the hill towards Tingara, eager to show him their handsome son. The black stallion already had Crayola, Myrinna and their foals around him though, so as she drew within ten feet of the others Taworri casually dipped her head to the grass, suddenly ravenous as she felt the effects of feeding her new colt. Barinya remained motionless by her side, standing with legs braced apart and staring about him with great curiosity evident in his young gaze. ------------------------ Biara nickered happily in response to her mother's return, standing by Kurrawa she watched the mare and her new half-brother walk among the herd but did not go over to them just yet lest she frighten the new colt. Besides, it was more fitting for Tingara to greet his son first. Kurrawa paused for a moment in his restless grazing to fling his head up and look at his half-brother before dropping his head again and returning to combing the ground, pawing here and there as he felt the burning energy that came with spring course through his veins. His skin crawled and he twitched it frequently, though there were as of yet no flies to speak of. Yes, spring had come, and with it, restlessness and recklessness for the young ones. --------------------- Wirruna barely stirred as Taworri returned to the herd. She wasn't particularly close to the younger mare, having always felt estranged by the fact that the mare had belonged to Nevada and, quite frankly, unnerved by her gracefulness. Besides the Moon Filly Wirruna felt plain and clumsy. Her very swollen sides only served to accent this feeling, and the pinto mare shifted her weight again the discomfort of being heavily in foal burdened her. Suddenly she felt a familiar spasm of pain shoot along her side, and almost in relief, she turned to walk off into the brush. -------------------- Kooraloo watched her mother go without much concern. The pinto filly was quite indifferent to the activities of everyone around her, though the actions of the silver dun Kurrawa did excite her in ways she didn't yet understand. Actually, the stirring in her blood at the colt's restless whinnying and pacing quite annoyed her. Which made her fuse even shorter than usual. As Taworri returned with another young one she merely rolled her eyes and turned away from them. More foals meant more noise. Great. ----------------- OOC: Wow, I think I got all my Tingara herd charries. Seeing as Bindaree and Wyralla are in that other Tingara herd thread and are supposed to being leaving with Thalera in that thread. And Jannali, Kala, Kaiela left... ---------------------- |
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