Keep it Simple [Nandaie Herd]

[Ehetere]

Binda whickered a friendly greeting to Corowa, turning her head in the direction of the creamy and black mare who had arrived to the bog. Binda did not like fighting either - in fact she loathed it. All the blood and the screams and the pounding of hooves - why should any creature be submitted to such violence and carnage?

Nodding in agreement, she did not drop her gaze away from the roan stallion, his muddy creamy mare and the other filly who had arrived. There would be trouble for sure if the filly had a stallion hot on her heels.

“I thought that I may perhaps name it Bittoorong after its father, if it was to be a colt,” mused Binda, “And Birralee if it was a filly.” She laughed, and swung her neck around so she could have a look at her rotund stomach also. “So it would seem - it will be a large foal for sure.”

The call of a young horse rang out and Binda turned her head to find the very colt they had just been speaking of trotting over. Thackory - currently Nandalie’s only son - was a very big colt, heavy set but handsome with his liver roan coat. She would be happy with whatever foal she might have - big or small or lithe or heavy. Though she suspected that it would not be very lithe considering its size already.

Watching as the pair of foals raced away over the snowgrass, Binda found the longing for her own to be born flare up once more: young creatures so full of life and joy were a wonder indeed. Always had she been a mothering mare, perhaps it was because of the need to make up for her own poor childhood by injecting her own foals’ childhoods with the care and love that she had so lacked herself.

[yaruka]

Yaruka had been grazing quietly off to the side of the main part of the Boggy, always more comfortable in the shadows than in the open. Ukamirra had darted off to play with the other yearlings, suffering none of her dam’s uncertainty with joining in on the activities of the herd at this young age. At the moment the bright chestnut was cantering after her grey and liver chestnut honourary siblings, calling to them to announce her own presence. Yaruka kept one ear trained on the youngsters, but for the most part trusted Nandalie to keep them safe. She was as relaxed as she generally got, and was quite enjoying the feeling of the gentle spring breeze when a rustle in the brush downwind of her caused her to start. Staring with wide eyes into the darkness, she soon relaxed at the sight of the tall bay Irawaddy, followed by a chestnut roan (?) colt. The lithe chestnut mare called a friendly greeting to Irawaddy, which the bay mare returned whole-heartedly. Touching noses briefly with Yaruka, Irawaddy then made her way over to Nandalie, encouraging her son and noting with interest that she was accompanied by a strange mare and a rather muddly Aquialdorado. The bay mare felt no fear though, Nandalie had her absolute trust.
Camira was also making her way back to herd, though from the opposite direction. Proudly she walked beside her palomino roan son, a very handsome colt that seemed a perfect combination of both her and her beloved mate. She stepped out of the bushes, golden coat glowing in the afternoon night, beside her son’s slightly paler one. Nanyima would have the advantage of the camouflaging affect of his roaning, though only just. Their golden coats were hardly inconspicuous in the brush. But Camira wasn’t worrying about such things now, and felt no fear as the sun’s rays warmed her silken coat in plain sight of all who cared to look. Nandalie was here, and their son was too, so what could be wrong? She noticed with some surprise that Nandalie had acquired another mare since she had left, though she wasn’t terribly shocked as the chestnut roan lately seemed a magnet for terrorized mares. Though this one didn’t seem all that afraid. Seeing that Irawaddy was also returning at that moment, she turned with some reluctance to join the herd first, Nandalie was already surrounded by enough mares and she wanted her son’s first meeting with his sire to be a special one. But then she thought of Corowa, and with new energy in her step made her way eagerly over to the mare she thought of as an aunt, to show off her first born foal. The colt followed her comfortably, sticking to her side but wide brown eyes taking in all that he saw.

[aquiladorado]

At the stallion’s touch, AquilaDorado stiffly returned her attention to him. There was something about the Buckskin mare that she didn’t like, and considering Tagera was being oddly deceptive, the mud-covered creamy was quite uncomfortable near her. Nandalie’s words once again saved her from responding and offered what the mare had been trying to do. AquilaDorado returned his second touch with a thankful, but quick, bump of her nose and turned to see the Bay mare and a roaned colt that she had smelled approaching. Taking her leave with a quick nod to the mare, but avoiding eye contact, AquilaDorado started off toward the mass of the herd.

The pair of golden Brumbies that crossed her path drew her attention, and the muddy mare changed her course to follow them at a distance. She studied the young colt with admiration – he was well put together and quite stunning with his flashy coat. AquilaDorado could not help smiling as he took in the sight of the herd. The Bay filly that had rocketed down the slop was now joined by Nandalie’s son, and the two frolicked in the beautiful warmth of the sun. How the Smoky Cream mare longed for a foal of her own! She had no problem interacting with the young ones – it was their mothers that she still felt awkward around. Digging out every bit of courage within her, AquilaDorado slowed to a halt near the group of mares and attempted to hold their attention. ”I’m – Sorry to interrupt, but would you mind if I kept your company for a bit?”[/i] The full grown mare still had no idea how to socialize properly.

[Tiggs]

OOC: Sorry Freesia, as you seem to be AWOL, we’ll have to treat Tagera as an NPC. Hopefully see you back soon! And psst, Yaruka, Irawaddy’s boy is a bright bay colt called Lowan =)

His answer seemed to satisfy the buckskin, and she took her leave. Mildly disappointed, Nandalie could now turn his attention back to his herd. He was glad to see Aquila making her way over to Corowa and Binda, and as he looked beyond them, he could see Camira and Irawaddy returning. The stallion lifted his head, ears perked forward and eagerness written all over his features. Both mares had a foal at foot, and while Camira occupied herself with the mares, Nandalie loped up the hill to greet his first mare, Irawaddy.

He snuffled her face, murmuring softly, glad to see her back safely. Nandalie always worried when his mares were off alone to foal but Irawaddy was so experienced now, he knew he was being foolish. He half expected to see a little roan filly by her side, but was surprised with a bay colt! He was a miniature of his mother, and seemed surprisingly brave in the face of so many new faces. Nandalie lowered his head and gave the colt a good sniff. More than satisfied, he touched his nose to Irawaddy’s. “He is strong and brave.” He said, though he could expect nothing else from Irawaddy. Even shy Amarina had a brave heart at her core. “You must tell me all about him later,” He ducked his head sheepishly, “But first I must check on Camira.” He was glad for Ira’s understanding. He had been with him for so many years, that she would know of his penchant to worry, and his need to make sure each of his mares was safe and well before all else.

With a nicker, he turned from Irawaddy and invited her to follow, and trotted over to where the group of mares stood, cooing over the next newest edition to the herd. Another colt! Joining the group and interrupting their conversation, the stallion was glad to see Yaruka and Aquila standing with them, both battling their shyness to congregate around Corowa and Binda.

First, Nandalie snuffled the small Camira across her face, neck and back to make sure she had returned to him in one piece, then he turned his attention to the colt. He was not as large as Irawaddy’s leggy bay, but with Camira as his mother, whose mother had been even smaller, it was to be expected. The most remarkable thing about him was his colour. He was lighter than Camira, like the pale gold of winter sunlight. The strawberry stallion reached out to sniff at the colt, and gave a nod. “Our first son is healthy and handsome.” He complimented Camira, and nudged her nose with his. He looked about at the rest of his mares, “As are the rest of my mare’s children.” He added diplomatically and with a smile. His mares should know that he loved them all equally. He was even growing to enjoy Aquila, and he knew he would be sad to see her go.

All that was missing now was Baramay, his dark brown mare. She had left, heavy with foal, but had not yet returned. She would be back, he told himself. And if not in a few days, he would go out searching. He hated the idea of one of his mares lost and alone, especially Baramay who was so sweet and kind at heart.

Nandalie huffed, and set about satisfying his mares with nuzzles and scratches, keeping one eye and ear on the playing youngsters beyond. He lingered on Binda and Yaruka, nosing their great wide bellies carefully, and delighting over the firmness within. Soon they too would be leaving the herd to birth, and Nandalie hoped they would not go far. When he reached Aquila, he treated her with careful caution. She was not officially one of his mares, but he wanted her to feel like one. He carefully touched his russet muzzle to her muddy one, and proceeded to rest his head over her back. He would groom her, if not for the smothering of mud. She looked quite charming, muddied as she was. Now that her colour was hidden, the stallion visibly relaxed around her.

Out of all the mares here, only Aquila had not already had, or was carrying, a foal of his. It was an odd thought for the stallion who was usually more concerned with other things, but it made him wonder. Would she ever carry a foal? Would she ever truly accept a stallion? Did she even trust him? He hoped so. She seemed to. He touched his nose affectionately to hers once more before going to Corowa.

She was a wise mare, calm and gentle like the rest with a coat of pale grey. She had given him another fine filly, and a quick glance up showed the yearlings playing gaily not far away. He could be proud of his herd. Each and every mare was a gentle soul, and none but the young foals and yearlings had the need to adventure which suited him fine. If he could spend every day watching over his herd in peace, he would be happy until the day of his death.

He nibbled absently on Corowa’s withers, watching over Camira and Irawaddy as they tended their foals. Camira in particular held his attention, and he was reminded of her less than average colour when he looked at her pale son. If the palomino mare were pale like her son, she would almost be the same colour as Aquila! Nandalie paused in his grooming of the lovely grey Corowa to think. He had never asked Camira to hide herself, or roll in mud. Yet each day since Aquila had joined them, he had been secretive and overly careful with his herd.

The stallion flicked his ears back, expression pensive as he glanced between golden Camira and muddy-brown Aquila. Was he being hypocritical? Was he being unfair? He loved each of his mares equally, and despite her colour, he found himself wanting to love Aquila in the same way. How could he call himself fair when he treated one of his mares differently? The red stallion gave a snort, and turned back to Aquila.

“I am sorry, Aquila. I have realised what I have asked you to do is unfair. If another stallion would challenge me for you, so be it. I would not treat any of my other mares this way and they are just as valuable to me as you are. I want you to know this, for I would like you to run with my herd always. I will not ask you to accept my offer now, but when your friend the eagle returns, I hope that you will remember that I value your company, and that you are welcome with us.” He touched his nose to hers, hoping she would forgive his foolishness.

“We will go to a clean river and wash you off, and then we will all graze on the Bogong where the grass is lush.” He said at large, including the rest of his mares in his plan. He nickered to Binda, Yaruka, Irawaddy and Camira. “When you are ready for travel, we will go and leave this slippery place behind for flatter land where our foals will be steady on their feet.” To Corowa, the only mare who did not carry a foal nor a youth at foot, he said, “When we go, I would ask you to watch out the yearlings, for they are frisky and we would not want them separated.”

The stallion lifted his head, proud and noble in the sunshine. He was glad for every one of his mares, and he could feel a weight lifting from his heart that he had been carrying since Aquila joined them. He had worried that her colour would bring him trouble, but surely any of his mares would be just as great a price to a roaming stallion, as they all shone with a beauty that came from their core. He was a lucky stallion, and today, he felt that in every bone in his body.

Meanwhile, Thackory had only one worry in his young life, and that was keeping up with Warriwillah! He was slow and lumbering, and Warri would dash about, taunting and dancing about him. The colt however took this all in jest, and he chased her wherever she wanted to go. Only when they strayed too far from the herd would he lead the game back that way, keeping Warri in sight of her mother. He knew they would be in trouble if they went too far.

Soon Ukamirra was joining them, and Thackory greeted her with a loud and exuberant call. He caught her once, but then Warri and Uka were leading him a merry chase. The brown and roan colt was never frustrated though, and he enjoyed the games as much as his sisters seemed to. While they pivoted around and leapt over shrubberies, Thackory came ploughing through the low bushes, trampling them down in what was more like unstoppable momentum rather than clumsiness.

[Corowa]

There was some sense of loss, of longing visible in the black mare. Corowa wondered what it was the mare seemed to search so desperately for. Hoping to reassure her, she stretched out her nose and touched it gently to the mare’s shoulder. “Those are both fine names, you have chosen well and I’m sure Nandalie will be glad to have you and foal both back safe.”

Just then, the wind stirred in the topmost band of snowgums, and Corowa’s nostrils quivered, for she had recognised one of the scents carried by the wind, mingled with the sharp tang of the eucalypt leaves. The old grey mare looked on, fascinated by the sight of the pale creamy mare as she stepped out from the snowgums. Camira had returned, and there by her side, was the smaller shape of her newborn foal.

Corowa watched the young creamy mare proudly, and thought of Karuah, her own creamy daughter. She extended her nose to Camira and blew softly through her nostrils, a sign of deep affection between the two mares. Then she turned to the colt at her side, and let out a low, grunting nicker.

“He looks as though his sire does, strong, with a proud head and broad chest, but it is surely your wisdom and courage he will inherit,” the grey mare said, and she dropped her nose to gently nuzzle the creamy mare’s colt, feeling within herself a sudden fierce drive to protect this small colt.

There was some sound of movement behind the mob of mares, and Corowa threw up her head and gave a loud snort. The grey mare swung quickly around, but it was only that queer-coloured mare of Nandalie’s. “There is no need to be shy,” Corowa said softly. “You are no better than the lyre bird hiding away. Come, there is nothing to be frightened of here.”

It was at that moment Nandalie picked his way up the grassy slope towards them. He had been with Irrawaddy, the bay mare having returned with a handsome chestnut colt. Corowa dropped her head to crop at the snowgrass, one ear flicked in the stallion’s direction, though she knew he would come to her, could feel every part of her listening, waiting, for the sound of his gentle call, the soft touch of his nose.

He seemed very interested in that queer-coloured mare, and Corowa wondered if he was worried by the attention the mare might bring from the stockmen. In such a big mob of bays and browns and chestnuts, both her, and now that creamy colt of Camira’s stood out. Only in the snow could they be hidden, and Corowa understood what it was to be hunted by stockmen, a prize to be sought and captured.

Only once he had checked over Camira and her newborn colt, did the stallion turn to her and gently lip her shoulder. Corowa felt something stir at her touch, half-remembered feelings of excitement that seemed bound up in memories of a great golden stallion. But it had not been Nandalie that had vanished into the wind-driven snow, and the mare watched the stallion as he stood before her now, knew him to be as strong and safe as the high country itself.

“Perhaps it is better for them to be captured by the stockmen,” Corowa answered and she reached over to give that proud roan a playful nip. “For they are foolish and noisy as young gang gangs and sometimes there is nothing more I long for than the stillness of a bush night.”

Warriwillah squealed with excitement and stretched her legs to their fullest. There were no thoughts of stockmen or the harshness of the winter, nothing but the joy of living, the throbbing of her blood in her veins and the sudden feeling of strength and sureness.

Ukamirra joined their wild, rough chase, and Warriwillah switched around and raced back over the wide stretch of flat, calling loudly to the two yearlings. Her breath sobbed in her chest, and she propped to a sharp standstill, her nostrils wide and ears pricked to catch the sound of the wind.