Look to the Horizon {Nepelle Heard / Open}

[Ehetere]

Thunder rumbled off in the distance, and the landscape was darkened by the shadow of dark storm clouds that lay imminently over head, stretching as far off into the distance as the eye could see. A storm was coming.

The bush was still with anticipation for one of the unpredictable spring storms that sometimes ravaged the mountains, and the air itself seemed to press in on the bush creatures. The feeling was electric, and the feeling that something tremendous was coming could not be denied.

Beneath the snowgums, the sound of galloping hooves could be heard thudding against the earth. A big chestnut stallion burst from the shrub with a high pitched whinny, prancing in the wide valley as if he was unable to stand the stillness surrounding him. Nepelle called to his mares again, but his eyes were rolling and his muscles tense still. The storm set his blood on fire, and the longing to run and run and run was so strong.

He could feel all the pent up energy that was growing in intensity with every passing moment in every vivid chestnut hair on his hide. He could smell it in the air, and feel it in the ground beneath his hooves. Things were changing.

He was no longer the young stallion who had firs entered these mountains, but he was now far wiser and better for his journey. He had a large herd, and beautiful daughters, but something was missing and had been niggling on his mind for some time now. The black stallion who was like an ominous shadow galloping beside him every moment, not letting him have peace. This stallion was the King, and Nepelle had vowed that one day he might fight him for his throne. But time was running out.

Turning his thoughts away from the black King, he pranced over to nibble at his mate Kurrin’s mane to try and quell his restlessness. Kurrin herself was a daughter of the King, his lead mare Fira was once his mare, as were Kala and Jannali. His entire herd was tied to the King in one way or another, and that made his promise that much harder to try and follow.

A liver chestnut and white head popped out from behind Kurrin’s flank – his newest daughter Araluen. Already the loudly marked appaloosa foal had proven to be very cheeky – causing all sorts of trouble like teasing his and Fira’s first born daughter Wallina, who could have quite the temper on her at times.

The appaloosa filly bounded out from behind her mother with a now well known glint in her eye – meaning trouble was on the way. But then thunder sounded closer and louder this time, and she dove for cover under her mother’s protection.

Nepelle twitched his ears nervously, but did not other wise shy away from the noise. He did not fear storms, and he doubted his daughter did either. It was more the fear of the unknown and the oppressive nature of the afternoon that set the little filly on edge. Who could blame her.

[aquiladorado]

OOC: FINALLY. Sorry, it's also horrible as my muse has died X(

Dark clouds roiled over the once clear sky, while a Palomino mare moved briskly across the Brolga’s Country. The new spring grass cushioned her hooves as she darted soundlessly in one direction, and then another – unsure of where to go. The whites of her dark eyes could have been seen a mile away, caused by the fear of the storm those dark clouds foretold, and the mare snorted in indecision. She spun around, searching the land for shelter, and found nothing but a small clump of snowgums. Picking up a canter, the golden mare headed into the trees with a crashing of branches and a pounding heart. Along with the new grass of the season was new life – the young of the majority of the bush animals were entering the vast world for the first time. But there was only silence beneath the shadow of the storm. No animal, not even the young hatchling of a Currawong, dared make a sound.

Serrulata stood uncomfortably under the little protection of the trees, her swollen sides heaving with each breath she took, and she shifted her feet uneasily. The Palomino preferred her life under the protection of a noble stallion, where not even a storm could baffle her, yet she travelled alone across the High Country and was therefore outright rattled. If not given the protection of a stallion, the least she could hope for was a little more trees.

The wind picked up and blew her unruly mane in every which direction. Serrulata called out a terrified challenge to the wind, and was answered by a thunderous roar that sent her darting out of the clump of snowgums and into the open once again. Her nostrils flared and her step was short as she barrelled down to a lower valley. The mare dove into a different cover of trees, much larger this time, and looked around on high alert. Her watchful eyes missed nothing, yet the watchful eyes of others could easily find her. That golden coat was a beacon to frisky stallions in this sort of weather, and the mare tried her best to conceal herself between the snowgums. She frequently cursed the lack of camouflage she had been granted with, while the Duns and Grullos found no trouble in that area.

Nearby, in another copse of trees, a streak of movement caught her eye. Serrulata’s legs stiffened, frozen in place, as she eyed the area of movement. Bursting from the trees came a fiery red stallion as he galloped on nimble legs across the valley. He called to his herd, which appeared not long after the stallion’s grand entrance. The Palomino watched curiously from her cover under the snowgums, stretching her nose out to catch the scent of the other Brumbies. The herd was a good size – approximately a dozen mares and fillies, and the stallion! He moved powerfully under the contrasting darkness of the storm, his muscles rippling beneath his sleek coat, mane and tail tinged with a playful fire. His presence spoke of greatness, while his color resembled it. Serrulata had run with similar stallions before, and the Chestnut’s call stirred that longing deep within.

Another clap of thunder made up the mare’s mind. Lightening streaked across the sky before each deafening roar reverberated over the land, and a steady rain began to fall as the Palomino mare fled from the trees. A cool breeze danced around her, while the temperature had dropped and was creating the perfect ingredients for playful foals. Serrulata swallowed down the lump in her throat as a liver chestnut spitfire celebrated the weather, and had to look away as she got closer. The golden mare called to the herd and voiced her worry of the storm, as she trotted cautiously toward the stallion. The rain cascaded over her in an almost flattering manner, and it at least forced her long mane to one side. She did not know what this stallion was like, whether she would be chased away from his protection during the storm or not, but it was a chance she decided to take.

[Ehetere]

The call of another brumby was borne on the wild winds, and Nepelle threw his noble head up to investigate. He was confident in his ability to beat any stallion that might come harassing his herd, but this did not sound like the call of a stallion. It was the call of a mare.

A plump creamy had just emerged from the trees, her silver mane blown wayward in the winds. He trotted out to meet her as she came forward also, his head still held high in his worked-up state and his legs weaving patterns as they struck evenly at the earth.

The rain came then, in one all-drenching sheet like a waterfall. The grey droplets could be seen a few hills over, as they advanced quickly until they reached the herd, and the clearing immediately erupted into a muddy bath: splattering Nepelle’s chestnut legs brown.

Offering his nose out to the mare: who looked to be not quite as old as Fira, he nickered a greeting. The rain put a dampener on his mood, as the tension had been broken with the coming of the rain, but he was still charged with some of the energy he could feel in the air now, which made standing in one place difficult.

“Many greetings to you,” he said, shifting his weight from one hind hoof restlessly as the mud continued to cake his legs and underbelly. “What brings you searching through such a storm?”

[aquiladorado]

Serrulata responded to the stallion’s gesture apathetically, briefly touching her nose to his, her damp forelock plastered over her eyes. The mare’s sides quivered as the droplets of water trickled down them and left a chill behind. The Palomino peered at the Chestnut beneath the creamy strands that interrupted her sight as he spoke, and even his voice sounded with the same nobility she would have thought it to have.

”Hail, bold stallion. I seek nothing within this storm, and do not wish to stay in its wrath, either. I have seen my fair share of treacheries from such an unpredictable source, and the thought frightens me.”[/i] Serrulata was shifting her feet just as uneasily as the stallion, although she was doing so without realizing it.

Finding it difficult to strike up a conversation under the weather conditions, the mare simply jumped to what she had come down to ask. ”If I would not be a bother to you, I wonder if I could share in the company of your mares and yourself until the disturbance passes? It is easiest to find comfort with the protection of others.”[/i] Serrulata’s last encounter with company had not been long ago, yet she had still left the experience just as lonely as she had been before.

[Tiggs]

As the storm came rumbling in, Kurrin looked to the sky and heaved the deep breath. The air was rich with the scent of rain, and her hide tickled with the oncoming static of thunder and lightning. She was calm, but with Nepelle in such an excitable mood, there was a hint of anticipation for what was coming. Spring had given her their first foal, and she doted on Araluen, played with her frisky daughter and tried hard to be strict when she got too troublesome. In truth, Kurrin could never be angry at her daughter, and she secretly loved her rebellious streak.

While the brown and white filly crowded close in the rumble of thunder, the pale palomino mare nuzzled her daughter, lipped gently at her soft mane and played with the little white streak just higher than the middle of her crest. “Don’t be afraid, baby, the storm will not hurt you.” The pitter-patter of rain started on her back, and she turned her back on the wind. “Nor will the rain.” She gave the filly an encouraging nudge, inviting her to play and enjoy the weather. When the sun came, she would be glad for rain like this.

While Kurrin had left the trees at Nepelle’s call to join him, the chestnut mare Fira stood stubbornly under cover. At her teat suckled a foal not a few days old, a chestnut filly. Close by she had commanded Wallina and Alinta, her fillies of the two previous years, to stand. The mare herself glared out at the stallion and his favourite mare, fuming over the latest trivial argument.

Her recent irritability stemmed from an even older argument, every niggling thing stacking up to make her almost impossible to deal with. She would strike out at passing mares, nip and barge Nepelle, and even chase the foals of other mares that strayed too close. All because Nepelle had not fulfilled his promise to fight the King! He was supposed to be the best in the High Country, but how could he prove it without taking on the King? Fira valued herself highly, and she had bore two fillies for this brute now, but for what? She was a Queen; her fillies were destined to be royalty! How could they hold that title when the good-for-nothing chestnut stallion did nothing!?

Luckily for the rest of the mares that day, she had been sullen and quiet. But like the storm brewing ahead, it was only a matter of time before lightning struck and a wildfire was lit.

Despite the cacophony of noise, Kurrin was happy to stand out in the rain with her beloved Nepelle, glad for the chance to escape Fira. Poor Araluen had been chased multiple times by the cantankerous old mare, and Kurrin was sure she had been about to bite the filly’s spotted rump when Kurrin intervened. Motherly instincts made her angry toward the chestnut, but while she had the time alone with her foal and her mate, she would not dwell on it now. Later, perhaps, but not now.

With another great rumble of thunder and blinding flash of lightening, Kurrin saw a pale shape making its way toward them. Her ears perked, and she made out the mare in the next flash of lightening. The rain was lashing now, driving into her rump and she showed Araluen how to stand with her back to the rain so it would not fall in her eyes or ears. While Nepelle greeted the golden palomino whose coat was a fair few shades darker than her own, Kurrin looked on pleasantly.

On the golden’s request, Kurrin glanced to Nepelle for permission before answering. “You are welcome to join us through the storm. I am Kurrin, he is Nepelle, and this is our daughter Araluen.” The paler palomino offered her nose in greeting, her pale mane and tail dripping with dusty rain. At least after the storm, she would be clean! She nickered to the mare, and gestured toward the trees. “There are more of us, but you’ll find the better company out here.” She said with a wink. She looked to Nepelle, and those twinkling brown eyes of hers softened with love. It was not long ago that she had been a shy young filly, but Nepelle had brought her out of her shell, and now she was a mature mare with confidence and grace even in the face of strangers. She felt the undeniable urge to stand with him, and she pressed her sodden yet warm flank to his and lipped at his whiskery muzzle. She loved her stallion, and would forever more.

[Ehetere]

Araluen followed her mother’s progress, sticking closely to her side especially when the cold rain came pouring down to darken her already deep chestnut and white coat. The weather it seemed had taken all of the boldness out of her personality, at least for a short while, and she watched with wide eyes as a deep golden mare approached her mother and father through the storm.

Nepelle’s heart warmed when Kurrin came after him to introduce herself to Serrulata, and never would he stop her from speaking out. He was so proud of his mate – once so quiet she would scarcely talk to him let alone other horses. How amazing it was to think she would now be speaking on the behalf of his herd.

Agreeing whole heartedly with her statements, he nuzzled at her briefly, feeling his heart swell with love for her. But it would be rude to completely ignore the newly arrived mare, so he replied, “You will be very welcome to shelter with us. I would never be so harsh as to force you out back into such dreary weather.”

[aquiladorado]

OOC: Sorry... lack of muse and time XS

”I am thankful for that,”[/i] said the creamy mare, although she had already worked out that the stallion was one of virtue before she had chosen to approach the herd. At least her judgement had not been wrong. The spotted mare that had made her way over to the chestnut stallion, the same one that had been standing outside the cover of the trees previously with her filly sporting the same spotted pattern, spoke pleasantly and immediately captured Serrulata’s attention. The affection she showed toward her stallion did not go unnoticed; nor did the young foal at her side.

Once again, the palomino mare had to steady her breathing to prevent a lump from forming in her throat. Not wanting to seem rude, she acknowledged the mare and her foal. ”Pleased to meet you, Kurrin, and that is a beautiful daughter you have.”[/i] Despite the fact that she tried to avoid gazing upon the filly, and did not offer her nose to either the mare or her daughter, the mothering nature that the palomino had acquired after rearing many foals of her own prevented her from ignoring the filly completely. She gave a soft nicker, and a softness overtook her gaze when she did look at Araluen. Her still slightly swollen sides were clearly visible, and the mare turned in a direction so that perhaps they would be missed. Raising her head elegantly she introduced herself. ”I am Serrulata, named for the golden honey of my coat. And you are Nepelle...”[/i] The palomino mare studied the chestnut stallion further, raking through her memory. It was no mistake the name sounded familiar.

”You are Nepelle?! I have heard talk of you among the Currawongs, and many other bush animals including Brumbies themselves. Quite the pleasure to finally meet you, I’m sure.”[/i] Ironically, it had not been three days ago where Serrulata had found herself pondering the name the Currawongs had chattered about. This stallion seemed some sort of legacy, or a story ready to be told, and the palomino mare had found a longing to encounter him some day. That was the sort of stallion she wished to stay with, a stallion that would not be beaten. Of course she had also hoped to encounter Tingara, having not known much other than mindless gossip of Nepelle, but had been hopeless at finding him. Yet by a pure fluke, here stood the chestnut in all the greatness she believed him to be – perhaps a little smaller than she imagined, but great all the same.

[yaruka]

OOC: I'm just going to throw in a token post for my mares-I'd completely forgotten about this thread o.O

Jannali, Kala and their daughters had been sheltering in the brush around the clearing, tails turned to the open to keep their faces free from the driving winds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but neither mare were bothered, being sensible and practical brumbies. At least when it came to most things, Jannali was still shadowed by grief for Nevada, even months after he had passed. So it was that Kala heard the newcomer first, and then Kaiela, for Jannali was in one of her brooding states again. Turning about Kala watched curiously as a golden newcomer approached, flicking her ears as Nepelle, Kurrin, and their young daughter went to meet the palomino. Kaiela stood beside her, her coat shedding out in strange patches, so that she seemed some sort of queer pinto of roan tan and liver chestnut. Still, the two did not move to greet to join their stallion or his mate.It was more than the weather that prevented the two from going over to greet the stranger, such a strong bond of closeness existed around Nepelle and his appaloosa mare and daughter that the two would have felt intruders themselves if they joined the little welcoming party. So it was that they simply watched, Kala with one ear trained backwards on her blue roan sister.

Eventually Jannali turned too, watching with dark, unreadable eyes, showing little interest but acknowledging something was going on all the same. Another improvement, noted Kala, and she sighed with relief.