Mare of the starshine Dance

[Rivre]

Twas a silent night; wrapped in a darkness which was not quite shadow under the full-moon's glow, caressed by pricks of ominous star-light, a thousand shattered beams to leave the surface of the undisturbed pool to flicker with eerie ease.
Snowgrass stems lit by white hot rays, crisp with dew yet encased in the clammy calm which was the heated bush. A wombat rustled near-by, a wattle flower passed it's bloom, weeping, unfurled for all to see. Pale barks rose from moist land, dense green and yellow leaves rustling in a non-existent breeze.
And yet, was there? For somewhere in the shadow of two branches there hid a filly, of grey and ivory fire; prancing upon neat hooves, pressing the surface dry with her clean, sweeping stride, she cavorted, mane and tail flying like a banner across the night, whirling to and fro and creating her own wind on which to fly.
It was not unlike her, to travel through the night, forever whispered of by the creatures who stood a quiet vigil, watching her dance of grace and wit. Many a herd she had passed, without sound or track, playing her own game of wait, and yet always searching, searching.
When sunlight tinder shone through a protective canopy, again she would whisk herself away. To a place no one knew, and a place forever changing. To wait out the light, and rest a while from her tread; her hide of white when seen by that odd bush-life was said to blush like cascading diamonds, her banner of cream and silver threads a shinning silken pearl.
She belonged to no-one, and yet everyone. Seeking through the night a herd which traveled on silent hooves, for even she, Nukara, filly of starlight dance, had heard what traveled on the wind and in the stir of bush. A stallion, who rivaled their own king, was coming. He walked in silence and left no track, wiser than the wisest horse and brought foals in spring cultivated on beautiful mares which carried the drops of the purest sun on their coats, who lined the bush and melted into shadow.
This is whom she sought, and without even knowing it herself; the white mare of starlit dance.
Stopping suddenly in her joy, head thrown up and velvet nostrils quivering, she eyed the scrub intently, the scent of other brumbies wafting lazily northwards, always to the north. Lobes flickering with unease, every tense line of her body leaning towards her escape route, Nukara's soft snort distilled the silent night, throat quaking as the call deepened, then silenced.
In her mind's-eye she saw the bush parting, shivering, to reveal a ghostly chestnut stallion, sweat dripping and pawing the ground angrily. Shying in fright to propped to the left, sneaking a glance over her shoulder and into an empty clearing. Spooked she trotted smartly up the shaly rock track, leaping from the largest of the rocks onto the grassy flat above.
It was not the first time her eyes played tricks on her, nor would it be the last, but every time a bead of sweat would break out on her back, hair tingle and muscles tighten. Carrying on across the plateau, she eyed the rugged cliff with distaste, stride shortening so that the granite tor did not pierce the frog of her hoof and embed it with rubble stones. She was nearing the edge now, the gales pushing her closer closer, so close that she feared she would topple, and yet she did not; daggers sliding to a stop directly above her small clearing.
Looking out Nukara realized that most of the Brolga's old country was visible from her perch, the lonely call of a dingo resonating clearly through the bleached black night, and churning a wild resilience within her soul. Throwing herself into a rear she screamed her wild fury to the mountains of the main range, a stark and obvious prize framed by the light which was hers; challenging the stallions which sought her for their own and answering their own thoughts and wonder.
"It is I! Mare of the starshine Dance. See me! Hear me!"
Staying poised for a few more moments, she dropped back to her hooves, and the promise of steady ground. Impulse, that was what this cliff invoked. Backing away from the precarious edge, she stared longingly into a brightening sky, the shafts of weak red and orange sunlight braiding themselves into the dawn, the dawn which only perhaps she would see.
Once more she called, this time long, and filled with what it was to be alive, what it was to be unknown and unheard of, before stepping back into the shadow of rock and tor which was the mountain.

[E!]

ooc; if you wanted someone else in the thread tell me and i'll butt out

B O K A R A;;

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[/b] He stated, his voice smooth and lyrical - a pleasure to the ears. He knew that if he did not see her again, for the rest of his life he would be wondering, wanting...the blue skies he saw would be grey without knowing that she was here. Even if she was not his to possess. If only she would emerge.[/ul]

[Rivre]

The shadows seemed to press in around her quaking form, writhing with a living fire and quenching the fear which she clung to, both curiosity and excitment coming to take it's place. Her world of star-shine and magic had brought this magnificent young stallion to her, brimming with confidence and strength; she knew herself to be his already, whether it be of head or heart she did not know. But to play with him a little longer on her dance would not hinder this feeling of joy which now radiated from her.
Her eyes shone in the somehow bright darkness, reflecting the light of the waning moon eerily, her ears pitching forwards as she pranced delicatly back into the light, content to toss her mane to the brushing gale which blew the dust of the tors up around the pair of horses who stood outlined against the night.
"You know of my name dark stranger, but names mean nothing when compared to what it is to know the life of the calling which we have been given" she nickered, her voice spinning like silk to his ears, eyes glistening and her soft tones deepened into knowledgable ones.
"If you will dance with me through this night, perhaps you will know of the joy of what it is to be named. But perhaps, you will not see me again..." As she spoke, she eyed the drop which would surely lead to her death, but a spark lit in her orbs and she was gone. Fliting into the shadow and then pluging, plunging. Only to land on the ledge below. Let him ponder a while, she thought, working her neat hooves into the granite of the spur.