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Post by Ehetere on Nov 2, 2009 1:41:00 GMT
Curlah trotted along the ridge, her flashy mane blowing in the swift wind. A large colt struggled up behind her; his golden coat glinting in the early morning sunlight. She nuzzled him lovingly; her gleaming golden son - Iluka. He was quite a large colt for his age, and she already knew that he would grow up to be big and strong. Well, that’s what she thought anyway. Curlah was fairly experienced when it came to motherhood; but she wasn’t the brightest star in the sky. At least she had not lost a foal to date.
Iluka had been born one blustery night up here on the Ramshead. His father, Nowego, had gone missing one morning and never returned to his two mares. Curlah had left poor Yaruka and gone off on her own – to search for her missing stallion. To be fair, she hadn’t really looked all that hard; she’d gotten distracted a good many times. In the spring she had come back up to the Ramshead, where she had first met Nowego in hopes of miraculously finding him again. But after Iluka’s birth and still no sign of him, Curlah had accepted that she was unlikely to ever set eyes him again. She needed to move on with life, and the first step to doing so would be to move south.
From their vantage point up on the ridge, the whole of the High Country was spread out before them – the last remaining wisps of early morning fog lingering in the deeper valleys and the whole landscape a carpet of green and gold light. It was beautiful. Curlah inhaled a deep breath; breathing in the refreshing smell of spring. She wondered where she might go next; without a stallion to tell them what to do, she and Iluka could go anywhere they wished. This thought brought a slight frown to Curlah’s brow; Iluka might be unsafe without a stallion to protect him and without a herd for shelter. Never had she born a foal without the security and safety of a herd nearby. She was far less concerned for her own welfare than that of her son, since she knew full well that she could take care of herself.
OOC: Set in Spring, since that was when I wrote it. Sorry, but thank goodness for liquid time. |
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Post by yaruka on Nov 5, 2009 18:50:23 GMT
OOC: it's no problem  and I'm really sorry but I had a perfect post for you and it self-deleted  so this one probably won't be as good argh. BIC: Below the ridge on which the mare and foal stood walked two young stallions. One was a solid looking liver chestnut with a golden mane and tail, the other practically his opposite, gangly and as pale as the snow that had covered the ground only a week ago save for the dark cap that covered his ears and poll and the one streak that ran through his tail. The chestnut paced onto the range below the ridge, restless from the stirring that spring brought to his blood and the fact that he still had no mares to speak of. His companion kept back a few paces, clearly giving the other his space. Tharra had been touchy lately. As Tharra grazed the wind picked up, lifting his mane and tail and bringing with it the scent of strange horses. Instantly he was more alert, picking up his head, ears pricked forward and body tense. A mare and a foal. But no stallion. That was interesting. Perhaps she was on her way back to her herd? But Tharra decided he didn't care because he had just caught sight of the mare up on the ridge, and stallion or no stallion, he was interested. The sun lit her up from behind, illuminating a chestnut coat with markings such as Tharra had never seen before and making her seem as though her coat were aflame. Boldly, Tharra called to her, pleased to hear the mature note in his voice so unlike his whinny last year. "It is I, Tharra!" he cried proudly, watching her eagerly for her reaction. Behind him Garaweh stirred anxiously, keeping to the brush instead of the open area. Tharra shot him a warning glare, teeth bared, but he needn't have bothered. Garaweh wasn't interested in trying to charm the mare. Well, not interested enough to risk getting beaten to a pulp by his older cousin at least. His ears flicked back and forth, keeping an ear out for the sounds of an approaching stallion. Only Tharra would be fool enough to try and steal away a mare with a foal so loudly. |
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Post by Ehetere on Nov 7, 2009 12:14:20 GMT
A call shattered the silence of the mountains; ringing through the hills and being echoed back in canon. Curlah pricked her ears forward and sniffed the wind curiously. That was the call of a stallion.
She could not pick up the stallion’s scent - it was obviously upwind of her, but before she could locate the unknown’s location exactly, Iluka responded with his own little whinny; surprisingly loud which bounced off the cliff face behind them and down into the valley below. Curlah; finally spotting the stallion below, began to make her way towards them - interested for more reason than one.
First and foremost - Curlah wanted the company of horses her own age. It had been whole seasons since she’d had a decent conversation with anyone, and being a social brumby she was beginning to get extremely lonely. Then she had the safety of Iluka in mind - if she was with a stallion who would accept him, they would both be safe. If a particularly demanding stallion came seeking her, Iluka could be lost or killed. Thirdly… well Curlah had to admit the stallion was a handsome one. His colour was quite the unusual shade - like a darker version of the mare Yaruka’s coat… almost. She could ask him about it when she reached the bottom of the valley.
At last, Curlah pushed her way through the last of the shrubbery to reach the valley floor. In her rush to seek company after so long, she almost completely forgot about Iluka; and the low lying branches whipping him across the flank to his audible protest. Curlah paused in her haste - snuffling her foal and checking that he was alright before straightening up, lifting her head high and prancing down to meet the curiously coloured stallion; her mane dancing in the breeze.
She came to a halt with a snort; tossing her mane extravagantly in the air. “Greetings to you, Stallion of the Morn,” she said boldly, looking him directly in the eye. Confidence had never been one of Curlah’s weak points. “And what brings you to the Ramshead on this fine spring day?” |
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Post by yaruka on Nov 21, 2009 23:06:32 GMT
Tharra was somewhat disappointed that it was the colt who replied to him first. What did he want with the little brat? And hadn't his call been impressive enough to coax a reply out of the mare? At least she coming towards him he noted in excitement, standing tall and arching his neck proudly as she approached. Tharra was a shameless show off at times.
The mare came prancing towards him and Tharra's nostrils vibrated in a low , excited, nicker of greeting. Approaching him boldy, the mare looked him straight in the eye,
"Greetings to you, Stallion of the Morn. And what brings you to the Ramshead on this fine spring day” she spoke confidenly, distracting Tharra for a moment by her brash welcome. But he soon recovered, arching his neck a little more and bumping her nose softly in greeting.
"Greetings fine mare of the sun," he said, doing his best to flatter her and sound mature at the same time, "I am Tharra, named for the hawk, and I travel this mountain in search of fine company, such as yours." He could barely conceal his excitement at having piqued the interest of such a pretty mare, and completely forgetting about Garaweh behind him he reached fowards boldly to nuzzle her shoulder.
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Garaweh nearly choked in his attempt to stifle his snort of amusement at Tharra's pretentious display. The mare was certainly pretty, but Garaweh thought Tharra was more than likely to make a fool of himself than win her over, especially as she clearly belonged, or had belonged, to another stallion. The young white stallion remained hidden in the brush, still keeping an ear out for danger, as he waited for Tharra.
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Post by Ehetere on Nov 21, 2009 23:24:19 GMT
Curlah did not care that the stallion was showing off as much as he was - the way she saw it, was that he was showing off because he liked what he saw. And Curlah always had loved compliments.
“Then you have done well on your search Tharra, as it seems you have found me rather well. I am Curlah, named thus for the flames which my tail resembles in the sunlight,” she responded confidently; obviously very proud of her birth name. “I too have been living a much too lonely existence in recent times, and the need to run with other horses has pushed me southwards once more. Perhaps it is fortunate I have found a stallion such as yourself. After all, a wandering mare with a foal is an easy target for some with less than honourable intentions.”
Curlah sniffed at Tharra in return, registering her interest, so to speak, in travelling and staying with him. He sounded much more fun than Nowego had been already. But she also picked up another scent of another stallion in the air and threw her head up defensively, nostrils flaring wildly.
“Who is there? Show yourself!” she called, feeling more secure now that she was standing beside a stallion, but terrified for her son’s welfare all the same. Iluka was a strong colt, but he would not be able to sustain a fast pace for very long if they were attacked. |
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Post by yaruka on Nov 21, 2009 23:34:22 GMT
OOC: haha, I couldn't resist posting a reply...
BIC:
Tharra was beyond excited at the mare's acceptance of him, and was just about to reply to her comments when she flung her head in the air, snorting nervously. By this point Tharra had completely forgotten about his younger cousin, but Curlah's reaction had caused him to remember the younger horse. Snorting in frusterating, he called to Garaweh, urging him to reveal himself. If Tharra hadn't been so annoyed that his "moment" with Curlah had been interupted, he would have been impressed by Curlah's bravery. As it was, he glared daggers at the white and black stallion he considered no more than a colt, standing protectively by Curlah.
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Garaweh had been so focused on listening for danger from other stallions that the mare's sudden whinny quite startled him. HIs ears flickered back in shame for having worried her, and bashfully he slipped from the brush, walking forwards only a few paces so as not to upset her further.
"I am Garaweh,'" he said simply, "I travel with Tharra here, and mean you or your colt no harm." The young stallion could feel the waves of frusteration rolling off of Tharra and so left it at that.
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Post by Ehetere on Nov 25, 2009 6:39:30 GMT
Curlah watched nervously as a pale shadow detached itself from the tree line - and she had to admit she felt worlds better with Tharra standing protectively beside her. She did calm when the stallion introduced himself as a travelling partner of Tharra’s, though wondered why he was skulking around in the bush. Deciding that Tharra’s colouring was far more exotic and interesting to look at, Curlah turned her back resolutely to the white stallion - flicking her orange-flaxen tail at a stray fly.
Iluka on the other hand was fascinated by the strange new arrival. His pointed pale gold ears perked up curiously and after flicking a glance at his mother who clearly had no eyes for anyone but Tharra at the moment, trotted over to where the much taller stallion stood and nipped him on the shoulder - completely oblivious to any danger that nipping such a larger horse might pose to him.
“Are you a ghost?” asked Iluka, large brown eyes gazing up at the looming white horse above him. To his credit - Iluka was fearless, completely unfazed by Garaweh. His mother had never really elaborated much on her stories that she told to entertain him - and had never explained that silver horses were not in fact silver, so Iluka simply assumed that every silvery white horse must be a legendary silver like his mother had said. And this one might be the ghost of Thowra, since he was a stallion who was very silver indeed. |
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Post by yaruka on Nov 26, 2009 3:47:56 GMT
Tharra stood proudly beside Curlah as she dimissed Garaweh with a simple flick of her tail. In truth he had been slightly concerned that his Garaweh's taller stature might impress Curlah so her clear rejection of the white horse was pleasing to him. Nevermind the fact that they were supposed to be travelling mates, and brothers. Nickering to her throatily, he too turned away from the other stallion, reaching out to nibble at her mane.
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Garaweh watched the painted mare's reaction uncertainly, wondering perhaps if should even just excuse himself and go. But before the stallion could make such a decision he was distracted by Curlah's young colt. His ears flickered at the colt's bold nip, though the good-natured stallion did nothing to punish the precocious young horse. The colt's words drove away the rest of his shame, and snorting softly in amusement, he glanced once at Curlah to make sure that she didn't object to his talking to her son. But the chestnut and white mare seemed otherwise distracted, so he lowered his head to answer the colt.
"No, young one, I am not a ghost," he said, eyes warm with gentle laughter, "Though if I were I'm not sure I would tell you so. Don't you think it woudl be much more fun to keep the secret?"
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Post by Ehetere on Nov 27, 2009 6:02:50 GMT
Iluka’s eyes widened as the silver white horse spoke to him - and being too innocent to know any better it was not that unbelievable for him to think that he was indeed talking with a ghost. Perhaps his mother did not like ghosts, and that was why she had behaved so.
“I won’t tell anyone,” replied Iluka in all seriousness - already deciding that this trip was far more enjoyable than wandering the rugged and beautiful slopes and the high peaks. Beauty could only entertain such an inquisitive colt such as he for so long before he wanted playmates and adventure, and it seemed already he had found both.
He glanced back to where his mother was busy with the other stallion - lipping at his ears as he groomed her mane. Iluka had never had a father, or even a fatherly figure before, so this behaviour was strange to him.
“Do you travel with that stallion over there?” asked Iluka again - unable to contain his curiosity, wagging his furry tail furiously. “He doesn’t seem like a Silver Brumby like you - I don’t think mother likes silver brumbies or ghosts. Are you Thowra?” |
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Post by yaruka on Nov 29, 2009 1:26:07 GMT
Tharra kept one ear trained on Garaweh as he groomed Curlah, but otherwise ignored his half brother in favour of the much more interesting mare at his side. It seemed that the white horse knew his place, and as long as it stayed that way, he’d be content to leave the other stallion alone. Besides, Garaweh was distracting Curlah’s little foal meaning he could have all her attention to himself and Tharra certainly wasn’t about to complain about that.
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The young colt was rapidly endearing himself to Garaweh with his innocent promise and questions. With his pale coat, wispy mane and white rimmed eyes Garaweh supposed it was no real surprise that the colt could believe him a ghost, though he had to snort in amusement once again as the colt inquired whether he was Thowra.
“No dear one, I am not a silver brumby like Thowra was,” he replied, thinking of the legends that had so fascinated him in his youth, and still did to an extent.
“Thowra was actually a creamy coloured brumby, his only silver was his mane and tail,” he explained.
Illuka's musing that perhaps his mother did not like the kind of horse he supposed Garaweh to be caused the pinto to glance anxiously once again at the mare but he needn't have concerned himself, Curlah was still much distracted by Tharra.
Then, not wanting to have disappointed the colt, Garaweh reached forward to whisper in the young horse’s ear, “I do travel with Tharra,” he answered “But you are right, Tharra is not a ghost horse like me, so he doesn’t know the stories I do. Would you like to hear some of mine?”
OOC: Illuka's so cute <3
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