The mopoke's call, [Thalera]

[Corowa]

Willunga snorted gently as she nibbled at the snowgrass. Lately, the mare had found herself filled with restlessness. Sometimes she drifted through the band of snowgums to stand, listening to the murmurs of the wind, wondering at the old legends it told, no more than half-remembered memories to all but the wisest.

In the blackness of night, with only the mopoke to watch over her, Willunga had travelled northwards, up one of the many stockman’s tracks, towards Dead Horse Gap. There, in the grey light of a piccaninny dawn, the mare had stood, hidden by the snowgums, and trembled at the feelings of longing the sight of the slab-sided hut stirred.

Every part of her longed to throw her sobbing call to the winds, but something told her to be soundless, to move without track through the bush, to leave with no trace of her passing. Since her escape from the stockmen, Willunga had learned the wisdom of the bush well, until she possessed almost as much cunning as those legendary silver brumbies. And though she still missed her old master, the thought of capture filled her with terror.

The High Country rang once more with the sharp crack of the stockwhip, and the first of the brumby hunts had been spoken of by the wise currawongs. Surely that proud black stallion had returned with his master, and Willunga felt a quiver of excitement run through her. Her blood seemed to pulse with the beat of her longing, and she found herself suddenly unable to stand still for much longer.

The other two mares, Bindaree and Wyralla, grazed together on the sweet snowgrass, and she watched them. They were only young mares, and Bindaree, the handsome blue roan, was heavy with foal.

Willunga thought Thalera would have watched over them more carefully, but he still harassed and bullied them, for he could be a sour-tempered stallion, prone to driving them on unmercifully through the bush, searching for something, someone, with such desperation that sometimes the mare wondered if it was nothing more than a vision, a memory of a dream, the stallion sought.

Something moved quietly through the bush on the other side of the flat. There was a sudden hushed stillness, and then suddenly, Thalera was stepping proudly from the snowgums. The sunlight glistened splendidly on his golden coat, turned his mane and tail to silver. Willunga stood, fascinated by the sight of the glistening, golden stallion. Then the moment passed, and she was filled with a profound sense of loss, but for what, she did not know.

OOC: I’d assume Thalera would still be looking for Illoura so that’s what I mentioned him as looking for, since I can hardly imagine him giving up on anything.

[Tiggs]

Today was another wasted day. Thalera cursed for the thousandth time, that uncanny ability of the Silver to walk as if on clouds. How could they leave no print!? The sooty palomino crashed his way through the foliage, on his way back to his mares. He’d left them grazing by the creek while he made a quick search of the area for Illoura. That creamy was evading him! She taunted him at every turn. Every shadow was a tease, and Thalera was adamant that he caught glimpses of her each day but he was simply chasing ghosts. He wanted Illoura for his own, but she was always out of reach.

Just the thought of having a silver filly all of his own was enough to fuel his relentless search. All he had collected so far was a bunch of misfits. One boring chestnut, an even duller bay, and they were only redeemed by Bindaree. The blue roan filly – no, mare – was a King’s daughter! He had whisked her away from under the ruler’s nose, and now she carried his foal. He treated her with blatant favouritism, though when his mood was dark, he lashed out equally.

Nearing the flat on the bank of the Cascade Creek, the stallion knew his mares grazed just beyond the barrier of snowgums. Well if he could not find Illoura, there were at least three mares who could appreciate what a fine stallion he was. He arched his neck, flagged his sooty tail, and high-stepped out into view. A toss of his head cascaded his flaxen-white mane, and he lashed his salt-and-pepper tail. His stocking-marked legs picked up rhythmically, and his soot-smothered haunches and golden-dappled shoulders were corded with muscle.

Thalera was not adept at many things, but looking handsome was one thing he could manage. He nickered and kicked up his heels, before standing to check his mares (something perhaps he should have done first). Bindaree and Wyralla were where he expected them to be, but that useless bay mare he had picked up last spring was not with them.

He tossed his head, dark eyes rolling, and he called impatiently. He spotted her a little distance away across the flat. Useless mare! He snorted loudly and set off at a canter towards her. He scolded her with a firm nip on the shoulder before he got behind her and started to drive her back into the open with his other mares. The bay – Willunga – was not an exceptional mare by any of Thalera’s standards, but he could at least be grateful that the foal bulging out her sides would inherit some of his influence.

“I told you to stay with the other two.” He snapped, pushing his shoulder against her rump to urge her into a trot. How was he supposed to look after his mares if they were wondering off all over the place? Logic was also not Thalera’s strong point. “Do what I tell you, or I’ll leave you behind next time.”

[Rivre]

The day was reasonably young, and the freshness of spring was something that Balaroo relished in - the feeling of taught muscle stretching easily over hide, the sun's tepid rays adding a certain sparkle to golden coat, short cropped snowgrass tussocks nibbled to the earth and full-to-bursting creek that ran noisily beside him. It was this which he followed, the water, his tri-coloured mane blown wildly to and fro by the rogue gales pushing in from the north, almost cloudless blue sky, tinged only slightly now by the pink of dawn.

As he traveled, keeping his pace an even and floating trot, head lowered slightly to the earth and the trail which he followed, he snorted in sudden surprise, slowing to a stop, forefoot raised skeptically. Since the early hours of the morning he had been tracking a group of young horses, about his age, a stallion and some mares in-foal, but he had not realised his closeness, the scent fresh and all too sharp for the damp morn. Head rising slowly, he peered between the narrow trunks of the paling snowgums, lathered in the sweaty sap which had dried some places on his own pelt, sticky and trail-less. A sooty hide was flickering, proud and strong - a stallion of his age ribbed with muscle, but slightly smaller than himself.

Bush creatures would remember this sight for many days to come, one grown stallion actively seeking out another, and for no reason in particular, merely that he longed for the company of others. Ears now trained on the quickly disappearing shape, he gazed rapidly at his hooves, willing them to move with soundless caution as he began his careful decent. He was not one for moving in silence, for he was not afraid of man and his stock horse, he was wild and he was free, but something stirred inside him, and moved his fiery soul to soundless travel.

Weaving between the sodden branches, hooves deliberately avoiding the shaly rock track which led him to believe many traveled here, Balaroo saw the trunks begin to thin, light which was unappeased by the leafy canopy leaking through, and he narrowed his eyes against their flow. Pulling to a slow halt, he gazed solemnly out onto the open grass ridge, spotting one, two... three mares. This young stallion was clever, to have gathered them all together in one place, but upon hearing his irritated and impatient call, Balaroo was once again dragged back to the reality of a brutish stallion.

He nipped fiercely at the pretty bay, heavy in foal as he had suspected, anger seeping through his daze as he watched the handsome dapple force her into a trot. Was he so stupid to believe that this would earn him her love? If he had not heard the remnants of the other stallions words, he may have let it be -as sorry as it seemed- he may have let this brutal horse keep this bay with only his apologises. But it was not his fated way, and both anger and despise crept slowly through his limbs.

Gathering himself to his full height, he glanced only quickly at the blazing sun, knowing that with it's heated support he could not only win himself this mare, but protect her also from this brumby. Neck arched proudly and head held high, he trotted courageously out into the open, stopping only a few metres from the pair who trotted back towards him. It was with great anger and sorrow that he threw himself into a blazing rear, sun stallion of the south glistening in the winds and spring, full of strength and kindness which showed deep in his brown orbs.

It was with great difficulty that he did not scream his wild challenge there and then, but thudded slowly back to the earth, standing square and strong - a statue before the other. He knew that both himself and the sooty dapple were handsome, but it was in differing ways that this showed. The dapple in his colour, fair and well-marked, and Balaroo in both his colour and his nature, eyes falling quickly to the well muscled shoulders of his opponent.

"Are you so mad that you would push this mare to her death?" he asked, tones calm but loud, carrying easily across the open plain. "Driving her as you are, you're also putting the foal which she carries in danger, something that greatly angers me. A stallion should be protective and loving, but you are neither - you merely want your mares for a display of your strength which is already plainly obvious."
Turning his gaze to the sparkling bay, he dipped his head graciously, gazing up at her from beneath his over-grown forelock.

"Had not I heard that you would leave this mare alone to foal, and without so much as a goodbye perhaps, I would not be standing here right now - wasting my time talking to the likes of you. But I pity your stupidity, and so I am offering something to you, something which maybe will greatly please you." Balaroo knew well his tactics, and aimed to anger this stallion so greatly that he would allow him to win this battle of senses, even if he did not recognise that it was so.
"I will fight you for this mare, who's name I am yet to learn. But I am Balaroo, sun stallion of the south, named for the rain in which I still dance a sunlit dance, and I will protect her."

[Corowa]

The mare knew she should not have gone any further than the stand of whippy snowgum saplings, but the sound of the wind, and the stories the currawongs told of a fine stallion, had intrigued her. Her ears pricked forwards at Thalera’s impatient call, and she answered him with a throbbing neigh. The mare stood still and waited then, for she knew he would come to her.

Thalera cantered swiftly over the snowgrass, swinging around her, obviously intending to drive her back with the other mares. Even with his ears flattened and teeth bared, Thalera looked magnificent, and Willunga wondered if it was of him the currawongs sung, for he seemed to possess all the brilliance of the sun.

The bay mare flinched at his rough nip, but moved on when he started to hustle her back towards the other mares and away from the sheltering line of bush. Willunga’s nostrils quivered and she was sure she had seen some sign of movement down one side of the timbered spur. The mare propped in her tracks, but suddenly Thalera was there, and she was given no chance to stop until they had reached the two mares.

Willunga blew softly through her nostrils and stretched out her nose to the stallion. She nibbled on his shoulder a moment, and then rested her head on his withers. “I shouldn’t have gone so far,” she said shyly. “I was listening to the currawongs speak of a splendid stallion, and didn’t realise I’d left the shelter of the snowgums.”

Just then, a furious stallion’s neigh rang out over the stillness of the morning. Willunga stirred uneasily at the sight of that big, powerful-looking stallion. The mare melted hastily back into the snowgums and called softly to the other mares, feeling a terrible sense of fear. The sweat broke out behind her ears, and her hide prickled, for she found herself suddenly breathless, half with excitement, half with dread.

Something told her to remain completely still, well-hidden by the snowgums. It seemed this stallion had singled her out, but Willunga had no longing to run with him. Instead she looked to where Thalera stood, proud head held high, lit up by a shaft of sunlight through the snowgums. He looked so strong and vital; surely it would be impossible for him to be beaten.

[yaruka]

OOC: Just throwing these two in there quickly for you guys

BIC: Wyralla was growing steadily impatient with the rashness, and quite frankly sometimes stupidity, of their sooty palomino leader. In fact, if it wasn't for Bindaree she would have run off a long time ago, it wouldn't have been hard. Thalera probably wouldn't even bother tracking her, he made no secret of the fact that he thought her plain and she knew he hated her challenging him. She had tried many a timee to convince Bindaree that they should leave but the normally infallibly logical mare was blind on this point. For some strange reason she felt compelled to continue to follow Thalera, perhaps because she was heavy with his foal. And it was true that she was his favourite, at least of hte mares that travelled him. Wyralla didn't resent his preference for her cousin, though she did get annoyed that he was so obsessed with the elusive creamy .
As she brooded Thalera himself reappered, charging foolishy over the crest of the hill to go atagonize the new bay member of the herd. Wyralla hadn't had much to do with htis new mare yet, after all Thalera spent most the day driving them to and fro searching for Illoura, but she didn't like hte way the stallion treated her anymore htan she liked his bullying of herself or Bindaree. She looked after him with dislike clearly painted on her features, pinnning her ears as he drove the bay back over to them.

All of a sudden an angry snort met her ears, one very different from Thalera's. Spinning around she saw a queerly coloured stallion approaching, calling his challenge to the sooty. Excitement ran through her veins, and nipping Bindaree she swiftly slipped off into the brush at the bay's call. From there she watched, Bindaree trembling beside her, but for a very different reason other than the queer excitement and defiance that shook Wyralla. She didn't want Thalera to get hurt, but this new stallion looked as though he may give the sooty a taste of his own medicine.

OOC: sorry it's rushed :/

[Tiggs]

Thalera kept the mare moving until she was with the roan and the chestnut. Only then did he stop harrying her. He was about to lay into her again with harsh words and teeth, but the plain mare began to fuss him and he let his anger fade a little. Her nose was warm on his, and her teeth soothed an itch on his shoulder with delicate precision. She may be ugly, boring and disobedient, but she had her uses for doting on him. At least she could sate an itch, unlike the completely superfluous Wyralla.

His senses were not the keenest – spending most of his youth in captivity had dulled them, and he had never had the common sense to sharpen them – so it was after the bay mare turned to look at the second stallion that Thalera also turned to look.

The sooty was instantly furious. It was a sun stallion! How dare he show himself to his mares?! Thalera had no such compunctions about withholding his challenge, and he screamed it at the mysteriously coloured stallion. “What do you know of mares?! I see none with you.” A backward glance proved that his own collection of three were watching from the trees. Good, they would see him beat this idiot.

With ears pinned to his poll, and teeth bared, the sooty stallion advanced with a snaking neck. “I can do what I want with my mares, they’re mine. Why do they have legs if they were not meant to move? You can fight for this mare, but you will not win her!” Thalera squealed, tossed his head, and ran at the stallion. Thalera was not a dainty fighter, and he preferred a head-on match rather than the pathetic dancing that some stallions practiced. He made ready to bite at the hated sun stallion when he came in range. Any part would do.

[Rivre]

Balaroo was surprised by the sudden snaking bites of the sooty stallion, feeling a sudden anger at his undisciplined moves, how dare he think himself ultimately better than he? Well then, the civilities were done with. Moving swiftly to the left in his hastened defense, he felt Thalera's teeth scrape his jaw, snorting in pain as he felt a little blood rise to the slowly leaking cut.

Curling his lip in a ferocious whinny, Balaroo wheeled to kick hard at his shoulder, ducking and spinning to avoid the nips and kicks of the other, rather stupid, stallion. The other's teeth met neck again, this time surfacing more than blood as he felt the surface rip. Roaring in rage, he refused to pull away, rather pawed furiously at Thalera's knees, his own blows hoping to land square and maybe to lame.

[Tiggs]

His first lunge was successful, and he felt the jar of his teeth hitting the sun stallion’s jaw. The momentum took him past the stallion, but as he passed he felt the solid kick on his shoulder. He stumbled a little, ad was slow to turn back, but he unleashed a flurry of bites and kicks on his next attack. Thalera trumpeted a victorious laugh as his teeth cut into the golden neck of his opponent, and arched his neck proudly.

Thalera had been about to rear when the strike of hooves hit his knee. Blood was bold and bright on the white stocking, and a steady stream started down his left foreleg. The sooty stallion squealed in outrage, and he reared, lashing out with his right foreleg and intending to push at his adversary with his weight should they collide.

[Rivre]

Balaroo reeled at the sight of his opponents blood, but felt a sickening victory also seeping through the facade of illness - would it work? The odd colored stallion threw himself into a rear, screaming his rage and apparently planning on throwing his weight. Shifting so that he had a better angle, Balaroo braced himself against the impact, sliding back onto his haunches under the pressure of more weight. Letting out a strangled squeal he snaked his head around the bulk of sooty hide, snatching at whatever skin he could grab.

He knew that he had to rid himself of the extra weight, otherwise he might loose to this lump of a horse, and so he resisted the urge to go on biting, and gathered the effort to give an almightly heave, shaking from the way his muscles jarred and tried to convulse in protest. Giving one last final shove, he felt the weight of Thalera lessen a bit, and so continued with his shaking, now able to bite at his eyes in an attempt to blind him.

[Tiggs]

Oh how the winds changed so quickly! His knee was screaming in pain as he muscled the other stallion back, and he could hardly keep his balance with just three sturdy legs. The stallion was pushing back, and Thalera’s rump corded and strained to keep him back. Eventallu though his strength waned, and he was pushed back as the other stallion stood his ground.

The sooty palomino stumbled back, stockinged legs splayed to catch his balance. Before he could fully recover, the sun stallion was coming at him, teeth bared, aiming for his eyes! Thalera paniced, and stumbled backward. His lamed leg betrayed him, and he tripped. He felt the sting of teeth over his eye, and the thud of hooves on his flank soon after.

Squealing, Thalera retreated, head bowed and tail held subserviently. Fine! He could have the stupid bay. It was not as if he really wanted her in the first place. He could have Wyralla too for all he cared, but if he tried to take Bindaree, Thalera would be furious enough to continue the fight, of that he was sure.