Ice in the Wind {Burrello Herd / Yaruka / Open}

[Ehetere]

The call of birds was muted that morning among; for the air was crisp and still. A storm was coming, and with it the swirling of snowflakes and the bitter cold that was winter. A handsome if out of place stallion lifted his head; black forelock falling over his eyes. Burrello had moved his herd to the lower country when the winds had first changed and the whisper of winter had been borne on the wind.

The escaped Arabian took great responsibility for his humble if beloved herd of mares, and his offspring born by them. He knew full and well that he was no experienced as many of the high country stallions were on the ways of winter, and did not want to risk his little family to the elements.

Dawn broke; flooding the little clearing in brittle golden light. Clouds could clearly be seen forming now, and Burrello snorted. He did not like the look of those. He shifted his weight from one foot to another nervously, wondering how bad a storm those clouds would bring. The clearing was shelter, but perhaps it might be wiser to head south a little more and find a canyon or valley?

But Burrello reasoned that might mean racing the weather, and being caught out in the open would be far worse than waiting it out here. He gazed lovingly at each member of his little band: foolish but handsome Loora, her black daughter Pandala having left the herd to make her own way in the world. He did worry about his firstborn often – she had inherited her mother’s intelligence. Or lack there of.

The beautiful and fiery Arrellah, whom he had charmed away as well. She was an Arabian like himself, and he had been sure to keep her out of the eye of any men. His entire herd for that matter. They were hardly inconspicuous.

And then of course there was dear Warridanga, and her chestnut son Coorabin whom he had helped rescue from the Crackenback after his birth in spring. Warridanga was perhaps his most favourite mare, and he did look upon her most fondly in the herd.

OOC: Set at the beginning of winter, for Burrello's herd, Yaruka's two mares and anyone else who wants to join in.

[Rivre]

Perhaps it was for the firey dance she had been named, that Arrellah began to feel a certain restlessness take hold of her thoughts, the opressing clouds giving way to a glorious sunlight which illuminated their clearing, and so her wonderfully strong stallion of the night. Lobes a flickering she pranced, weaving an invisble path towards the mass of black horse, leathery leaves of the snowgums scratching her hide with their waxy grip, twigs of silver whipping to her orange hide, eyes portraying her amusment as she drew closer.

With the beginning of winter, their came the beginning of her freedom from man, however temporary it may be; his dark steed haunted her, forever seeking for his lost mare of spirit and of fire light, even through the hungry summer months when heat was all that existed. Still he had sought her, the man and his horse. But now she had reason to be joyous, for only the night before she had witnessed his leaving of the bush country, silouetted against the hillside.

Drawing neatly to a halt, Arrellah allowed herself the comfort of touch, extending quivering nose to black flank in soft greeting,
"With winter comes my joy, and your worry; perhaps working together they will lead a merry dance all thoughts of woe and of strife. What has you jibbering so O' black stallion Burrello?"
Somehow she could always make a mockery of one other being, and yet as she nickered her greeting and her odd words, Arrellah knew herself to be speaking out of love, for this stallion was the one who had and would protect her from her nightmares. This stallion, one day in the next spring, would be father to a foal maybe, and she would be proud to challenge any who thought it not fit.

[Corowa]

Warridanga grazed alongside Coorabin, thinking of nothing much more than the good snowgrass and her highly-strung son. Coorabin was much stronger now, and he no longer nursed. Even so, the colt still looked to her for comfort and shelter, and the sudden change in the wind had made him particularly jumpy.

The mare thought it would snow soon, for her hide prickled and she found herself filled with a sort of excited restlessness. The stockmen had mustered the large mobs of cattle, and driven them down off the high mountain country earlier than usual, and surely that must mean it would be a hard winter for the wild bush brumbies.

Warridanga’s ears twitched nervously, and she could feel the sting of sweat on her sides. Just then, Coorabin blew worriedly through his nostrils, and the mare turned to make sure he was all right. She purposefully started to graze her way towards the big black mare, Loora, and the colt clung close to her side.

Loora was only an escaped tame horse, but even she must know what such a change in the wind meant. “It might snow soon,” Warridanga said suddenly, and she wondered how they would find enough grazing if the snow lay heavy on the ground, even here on the low plains of rich snowgrass and scrubby bush.

The mare glanced over to where their stallion stood, outlined by the wide stretch of ridge and rough timber. There was something in the way Burrello held his head that told her he was feeling uneasy. Warridanga longed to comfort him, but she had Coorabin to watch out for. Instead, the mare dropped her head and cropped at the snowgrass, for perhaps soon enough it would be gone.

[yaruka]

The wind had certainly picked up over the morning. It whipped and tossed the black mane of a queerly coloured mare making her way towards the Crackenback, a relatively late traveller down the mountain.

Goondooloo, unlike Burrello and half of his herd, had been born in these mountains. They were a part of her, and so, though she knew winter to be tough and demanding, the impending storm that all the horses could sense did not concern her as much as it might. In fact, the painted mare was remarkably at ease as she travelled, enjoying the brisk air that seared through her lungs, even as the moisture in the air hardened into stinging flakes of snow.

She had only been driven down this far so early in the season because of a restlessness that gripped her limbs, an disquiet that could not be filled on the rocky tors and cliffs. She longed to run, to find others of her kind, an unusual desire for such a normally sensible loner. But this year was different, and Goondooloo did not turn back from her path when she smelt the other horses ahead of her as she surely would have done had it been any other year.

Instead she picked up her pace, trotting confidently through the now swirling snow until she arrived at the creek. There she dipped her dark muzzle into the ice cold water before lifting it, still dripping, to gaze with dark,untroubled eyes at the others for only a moment before again returning to drink.

OOC: ugh, I know, it's horrible sorry.
I'll probably bring in Warawara next post

[Ehetere]

Arrellah danced her way over to him, her grace mesmerising. Her touch was comforting, but the tenseness in his demeanour did not soften. He would have laughed at her gentle teasing in other situations, but this morning his concern was far too great. He suspected this would be a hard winter.

“The winter has me worried, Arrellah, for though winter brings safety from the eyes on men it also brings a threat far more sinister and dangerous.” Starvation.

It was all too easy to be caught out in heavy snowfall, struggling to cut through the heavy snow in search of food… walking and never finding it. Curling up on the snow to sleep and never waking up again. Burrello shivered, and it was not from cold. He was determined to ensure this would not be the fate of his little band.

Glancing over, he spotted Warridanga heading over towards Loora. Coorabin was much stronger now, but Burrello hoped it would be enough to survive the months ahead. The size of his herd concerned him greatly: four extra mouths to feed. Four extra bellies that needed filling. In a harsh winter, it would be a struggle for an escaped horse like himself.

Burrello pricked up his ears and glanced around when the hoof falls of another horse were heard. Concern had immediately gripped him: the fear of a large mature stallion come to steal away his beloved family. But it was not: instead it was a patterned mare with a curiously coloured coat. Unsure as to why she had come, he let out a curious whicker of greeting.

[Rivre]

It was so like Burrello to worry about the futile things - like this coming winter, like the fleeting wind which is ever-changing, for the lives of his mares and foals; she did not think him stupid, far from it, but there seemed, to her,more pressing matters than being unable to find grass. They would move to the foothills, and she would steal herself away from any challengers, as well as help her black stallion to be illusive, even when he was seen. For other horses were the thing she shied away from, the nagging worry of her own and a worry which made her shiver quite visibly.

"Winter has quarrels with me Burrello, but not with yourself, be wise and be strong - make decisions that are true to your heart and the winter will come and go like the breeze does in your soul". Nickering softly, she nibbled gently on his sleek banner of black hair, pulling at it with a reassuring play-fullness.

As she stood beside him, worry radiating to his small herd gathered near to him, Arrellah too spotted the curiously colored mare, her ears flickering back in surprise before she caught herself and whinnied a ceremonious greeting - one that caused her brilliant chestnut forelegs to rise from the ground, straining. It was unusual to say the least to have spotted such a thing at the beginning of a 'harsh winter' and she wanted more than anything the comfort of a large herd, especially this mare who would make her appear perhaps less noticeable... Well, maybe not, but still.

"Do you intend to speak with her? For she is a beauty as obvious as the stars of the recently past night, but she is also a danger if you want, for she is a charming looking creature..." Nipping at him cheekily, she let her fond gaze rest on his, communicating that her words were only that, words. She would follow him anywhere, with anyone.

[Corowa]

Warridanga threw up her head to listen. Her ears twitched, and she stared intently at the surrounding bush, sure she had seen something moving quietly through. At that moment, the wind stirred in the silver-grey snowgums, and the big branches swayed, carrying with them messages perhaps only the oldest and wisest would ever understand.

She had a strong feeling that they were being watched, and the sweat broke out behind her ears. The mare wondered if she had even glimpsed the flash of cream hide between the snowgums. Perhaps she had only imagined it, longing stirred by the swift-falling snow into a vision of a mare, splendid as the moonlight.

Coorabin had picked up on her uneasiness, and he clung particularly close, suddenly sure something bad would happen to the mare. In the sudden, hushed stillness of the bush, a currawong called out. And while the bitterly cold winds spoke of sorrow and of loss, it was there again, in the harsh cry of the currawong.

Warridanga stirred restlessly, and beside her, Coorabin found himself tense and questioning, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, something telling him to turn and run. The mare could feel the colt’s trembling, and she turned and nuzzled him gently, so it seemed a sigh went through him and he sought comfort in her milk.

Just then, a brown and white mare stepped from the sheltering fringe of snowgums. Warridanga stood completely still, and watched, fascinated by the sight of the dark coloured mare, near invisible in the swirling snow. Then, unable to contain herself, Warridanga let out a throbbing neigh. Her call mingled with that of the stallion’s, and she found herself suddenly breathless with excitement.

[yaruka]

First the stallion, then two of the mares , greeted her. Goondooloo stared back at them for a minute, large eyes untroubled, before she decided to answer them with a low nicker of her own. She pretended not to hear the chestnut speaking to the stallion, instead dipping her head back to the thrilling cold water of the creek to take another drink. One of the mares was was intriguingly disturbed by her arrival, and Goondooloo watched her surreptiously out of the corner of her eye, wondering what it was that the mare found so fascinating about her.She herself was clearly the one most at ease here, but this did not bother her. Lifting her head she stared back evenly at the herd, chocolate, silver, and cream coat partially obscured by the increasingly thickening snow fall.
OOC: I know the thread's somewhat outdated, but I couldn't really find a way in keeping with Goondooloo's character to close it up here ... :/
BTW: if anyone's interested (she's so hard to describe) here's the horse (I know he's a stallion..oh well) that I used as a reference for Goondooloo.
akalranch.com/Paisano/paisano.html

[Ehetere]

Burrello whickered appreciatively as Arrellah comforted him: he truly was a lucky one to have mares like the ones who surrounded him now. Despite her dismissive words, he could not quite put aside the worries of his mind, but he did try his best to t at least not burden his herd with them anymore.

Warridanga also seemed nervous, and his own worries were constantly whispering warnings in the back of his mind. The wind… the cold… it was coming, and soon. But it would have to wait for the arrival of this new mare.

She was indeed a handsome creature, with a white face and splashes of colour on her dark coat. Her mane and tail were also a curious creamy colour, and it was to Burrello’s relief that she did not seem intimidated by him or his herd. Some mares could be flighty creatures, fleeing at the sight of a large group of horses, but this one seemed more level headed.

Glancing up at the darkening sky and falling flakes, Burrello trotted away from his mares and over towards the new arrival, concern for both the welfare of his mares and her burning through him. Nickering as he approached, he nodded respectfully to the mare, assessing her with kind brown eyes.

“Greetings Mare of the Snow, I am Burrello,” he said formally, introducing himself politely as always, “What brings you to this hollow in the beginnings of winter? I fear a snowstorm may come soon, and I ask with all respect whether you may wish to accompany my mares and myself in sheltering in the trees, out of the wind?”

[Rivre]

Arrellah peered cautiously from under her forelock as she lowered her muzzle back to the short-stemmed grass, watching the ripple of black hide and taught muscle as Burrello made his over towards the curious mare. Blowing through her nostrils in amusement, she began to snatch at the random clumps and tussocks, now somewhat calmer for the fact that her stallion was acting just like that - of a stallion. The grass was sweet, and her coat shone with it's winter thickness, hide pricking as the wind drove at them from the open ridges, rolling off the hills. Maybe Burrello was right to be worried?

Calling imperiously, she began to trot towards the tree-line, hoping that in the branches of the silver gums, she would find refuge from the tugging gales. If the others mares had any sense, they would follow her lead and into the thicket, although she couldn't guarantee any of their sanity, so she kept the pace swift and purposeful, reaching the whippy branches reasonably quickly.