unlovable :: open

[E!]

Darkness enfolded the world, disturbed only by the faint glinting of far away stars, revealed occasionally through the shadowy tree branches when the hot summer wind blew strong. The scent of drying eucalyptus and mud filled the air, dank and foul, making the inky shadows seem all the more smothering and dense.

It was almost as if the summer heat had forced all living creatures underground into the cool soils, buried in the earth that they lived upon, to hide from the fury of the heat. Here though, at the Moyungal River, the air was humid rather than dry - and it felt all the more unnatural, especially within the thick blanket of darkness. The earth was silent too, not even a mosquito seemed to buzz, it felt as if time had been paused for this very moment. The moment that Iuk, the descendant of the nightrunners, emerged from the caress of his beloved shadows.

In history, or myth, the Nightrunners were beautiful creatures - their appearance appealing to any mare; and therefore irresistable. Iuk was not beautiful...though he may have been irresistable. He looked underfed, scrawny, the skin sagged off of his young bones like loose clothing and his lovely pale coat was tarnished with mud and scratches. But his eyes - big, manic things that stared out of their sockets, held an allure.

It was not the beauty of his eyes that pulled you in - for they certainly were something to be shuddered at, their depths tainted with madness and insanity, a craving for things he could not have..but the madness and insanity played their part in the strange allure Iuk had over others. It was a want to know what went on inside the young stallions brain, what made him tick...what great intelligence could you find within his disproportioned head? Did he hold the secrets of the Nightrunners? This, was what pulled in strangers.

It was also what got them hurt. Iuk disliked everyone but the most beautiful of mares - the ones he found beautiful in his strange, twisted brain. And those were the most plain of them all. The bays, browns, dull chestnuts, the occasional black. All Iuk found appealing - but no interest stirred within his head nor heart. Indeed, his heart had not stirred yet at all. He was a mere two years old; and yet he thought like an adult - if his thoughts could have been deciphered.

The shadows slipped regretfully of his pale hide as Iuk's lanky stride took him down to the side of the river, tiny hooves making indents in the recently dried earth, ragged white tail trailing behind in the mud. He had not intended to drink, but his joints had been sore from the amount of time he had stood still, brain ticking. A muscle twitched underneath his eye, and his pink lip shifted over yellowed teeth. "Iuk wants company" the raspy tones of Iuks voice seemed to be louder than usual in the silence surrounding him.

He spoke in third person often, muttering to himself, letting loose the occasional giggle. His head shook suddenly, as if to rid himself of a troublesome fly, his eyes blinking. The humidity was terrible, no breeze came to give relief, and the sweat prickled behind Iuks ears and on his flanks. It felt as if he was the only one left in the High Country - one mad colt alone with the humidity.