As Bold as Brass OPEN

[yaruka]

OOC: Okay, an unplanned thread-but Kurrawa just came and whispered to me, demanding to be written...

This is open to anyone, though meeting another young colt would be fun Just no stallions that are going to beat the poor foolish boy up too much

BIC: The moon was full in the sky, reflecting in the creek so that the water ran beautifully silver. Along the creekbed trotted an elegant colt, shining splendidly in the moonlight. His coat was reduced to no more than shadow in the night but his white mane and tail were on fire with brilliance. In spite of the openess and his glowing coat, the colt made no move to hide himself, nor did he seem at all anxious as he went along. It was not that his dam had neglected to teach him how to conceal himself, in fact he had had the best teacher-Taworri-a horse of the Moon herself- but Kurrawa paid her warnings no heed.

He had snuck away from the main herd while the rest were occupied by the fight, and though he suspected that Taworri had seen him go, she had not stopped him. After all, he was two now, and not even the son of the herd where he resided. A dangerous position for a colt, particularly as an audacious one as Kurrawa. But perhaps no more dangerous than his current situation, though the silver bay dun colt, like his sire before him, seemed to think himself invincible.

The thrill of the night was tingling through his blood and across his hide, so that he couldn't resist halting and throwing his proud head up, calling out for anyone to hear.

[E!]

It was a fine night indeed when Iuk felt persuaded to leave his usual haunt, the Moyungal River. He had too often remained in its muggy atmosphere for weeks on end, his pale coat becoming more and more dirty from the muddy banks, his mane and tail tangling. Then again, it may have been better to leave the madness inside its hole.. for any brumbies that he came across generally left shaken.

However, Iuk gave no thought to how others would react to him being out and about on the clear night - an obvious imposter on the lands of normality. Visually, he was odd. Often being confused with the legendary night runners, his coat was the palest of cremello's, though usually smudged with dirt, and his eyes.. not red, as a night runners might be, but sky blue. His body in itself was not exactly a pleasureable sight, all skin and bones, with a bandy back and abnormally long, skinny legs. His face was blunty attractive, despite the pink around his eyes and nose, and the ratty, tangled mane that so often resided over his face.

Yes, visually, he was odd. But mentally... even more so. He spoke to himself in the third person, and prefered the ugliest of mares to the most attractive. Random fits of laughter would take him, and he would be reduced to giggles and mutters. He was, quite obviously, mad. This didnt stop him from conversing with others though, though it made the other horse quite visibly uncomfortable to be speaking with a lunatic.

Iuks small hooves touched the ground lightly as he pulled himself lazily down toward the bank of the Cascade Creek, pale eyes bright in the starlight, watching a figure that had emerged moments earlier. He looked young, this stranger, and Iuk too, was young. Only two years of age. And though he was mad, he appreciated the idea of company in the lovely night he had chosen to travel. He was hardly easy to miss, coat even paler than the other colts, and he made no move to hide himself. This night, Iuk was more to his senses, and therefore able to communicate better...though he was inable to keep the jibbering madness from his young voice. "Nice night to be out in the air, Iuk thinks" a grin slid to his pink lips, ears pricked forward eagerly.

[Corowa]

The gentle white stallion pricked up his ears at the mopoke as it stirred somewhere down in the flat below. His mare stood nearby in a sheltering band of snowgums, her weanling colt at her flank. Werrilah blew softly through his nostrils, and then at the sound of a distant call, sent his own trumpeting answer, ringing through the night.

There was a sudden hush, and he could feel every hair stand on end, his hide prickling with excitement. Werrilah stood for a moment on the great outcrop of rock, listening intently, and then filled with a sudden, throbbing urgency; he turned and moved quietly away.

He returned then, to the band of snowgums. Werrilah gently nosed Boorana, told both mare and foal to come. Then, soundlessly the stallion picked his way down through the thick bush and rough slabs of granite, no more than a wraith in the pale light. Behind him flitted the mare and colt, all queer-looking and silvered by the moon.

There was some sign of movement through the grey-barked eucalypts and narrow leaves of tea tree. Werrilah propped to a standstill, and from there in the sheltering stand of timber, watched Kurrawa for a moment. The colt stood, perfectly still, every proud line of him outlined by the moonlight, mane and tail glistening splendidly, so he had never more truly seemed descended from that ancient breed of the moon.

Werrilah went up lightly on his hind legs. In his joy, he rushed forwards to greet the young stallion, nipping playfully at his withers: a greeting between two friends. “Have you any news of Myrrina?” he asked, every part of him trembling with this half-remembered longing. “I had heard the currawongs tell of a young bay colt, but I have been further south and have only just returned.”

It was only then, he noticed the other colt. Werrilah stilled, feeling something stir deep within himself at the sight of the white brumby. He found himself fascinated by the young stallion, and with fine head held high and nostrils quivering, he stretched out his nose towards the other. “We could be brothers you and I,” he said playfully. “Was it in this part of the mountains you were born, for it is difficult to hide from the wise eyes and noisy chatter of the gang gangs. Surely, two brumbies white as snow is a rare sight indeed.”

OOC: Hope it was ok to powerplay Boorana/Pirnbial.

[yaruka]

OOC: That's fine Corowa-though I'm not sure Boorana would appreciate her title as Werrilah's "Mare" though of course, that is what she is lol xp

From behind him came a voice, a queer voice, and Kurrawa started slightly, spinning around for all his bold confidence. Making his best effort not appear surprised, he quickly recovered and pricked his ears forwards curiously as he took in the newcomer, a queer one to say the least. But Kurrawa, like his dam and siblings, was far from unkind, so he replied to the strange comment of the odd horse perfectly civilly, though he was unable to keep a hint of puzzlement out of his young voice.
"It is indeed a beautiful night to be exploring," he said, moving forwards to extend his silver muzzle to the pink one of the other in greeting. "I am Kurrawa, named for the sea."
-----------------
Boorana stirred restlessly at the mopoke called, listening to its tale of foolish young colts in the night. So often it had sung of her and Werrilah, racing through the darkness, but for now she and her mate were quiet, the passion for recklessness, though not adventure, temporarily quelled by the prescense of their young son. At least, to an extent. Boorana was only a young, in-experienced dam, and the two had good fortune to thank that their night wanderings, Pirnbial trotting faithfully in their shadows, had not led to disaster. Werrilah was a devoted stallion though, and Boorana felt safe by his side. Her ears flew forward at a distant call, feeling sure she recognised that voice, and suddenly she was trembling with excitement.

The pale stallion answered the mysterious call and moved off to explore, and Boorana, snorting, started after him, returning almost as an after though to nose Pirnbial awake. Surely Werrilah did not htink he was going anywhere without her? Yes, there had been a brief period when Pirnbial had physically been unable to travel with his parents, but he was a strong foal, and she was determined not to be left out of anything exciting. But before she could resume following him, the stallion had returned for them. He nosed her and Boorana snorted, but followed anyways, not wanting to miss out of this night time wandering. Silently she and Pirnbial followed him, all horses of the night, inspite of their spectrum of colours. Her, a queer silvery brown, he pure white, and Pirnbial a blend of both.

She saw the colt ahead at the same time Werrilah did, and like him she was filled with excitement. It was none other than Kurrawa, her brother, and she brushed eagerly through the brush to greet him, watching warmly as her mate reared to greet her brother. She didn't even notice the stranger at first, perhaps wouldn't have for quite some time if it wasn't for the curious expression on Pirnbial's face. She glanced at the other, taking in his unusual appearance, a dirtier version of Werrilah's colour in a way, though much less handsome, of course. She nickered to him, an intruder upon the family reunion and complete stranger, an uncertain, but not unkind and certainly not fearful, greeting, before turning back to her brother.

---------------
Kurrawa wasn't what you'd call cautious, and so again he was surprised at the entrance of another horse. But his time his surprise swiftly turned to delight, as his sister's mate, Werrilah appeared. He half-reared in greeting to the white stallion, nudging him playfully on the shoulder. He flickered his ears in acknowledgement of the other's questions, but first his eyes scanned behind the pale horse for some sign of his beloved older sister. And then there she was, never one to stand by passively, walking out into the moonlight with a shining colt at her side. He called delightedly to her, before turning back to Werrilah, who was introducing himself to the other light horse.

"Myrinna left for a while with Durroon at the end of spring. But I would not worry about her, she is a wise mare, as is Durroon, and though Tingara misses her certainly, I do not think he is troubled. She has always been one to wander as you well know." He butted the other affectionately on his neck, blood coursing with excitement-what a turn his night had taken! Being away from the herd was certainly exciting!

He then left the two pale horses to their discourse, bounding over to Boorana like the young horse he still was. He bumped her nose affectionately, before reaching down to snuffle curiously at her colt, an odd mixture of her's and Werrilah's coats, but certainly a handsome foal. Pirnbial stared up at him defiantly, mind racing to place this horse in the grand scheme of his life. It wasn't until Boorana spoke that he realised this was Kurrawa, his uncle whom Boorana always spoke of with great affection.
"Kurrawa," Boorana whickered in delight, 'how have you been? I have missed you, and the others. What news do you have of Taworri and of Biara? And young Barinya too? I heard you say wise Durroon wanders again. I am glad to hear she is well."

As the two horses spoke their coats glinted ethereally in the light of the moon, the light under which they had both been born, and which shone through the fine hairs of their coats. Never before had it been more apparent that the two were of the same breeding, both fine brumbies of the night and oh so visible in the moonlight, even dusk-coloured Boorana. Beside her glinted her colt, the next generation of this mysterious breed of the moon. And not far away was her mate and his odd companion. All young horses exposed in the night.

OOC: sorry it's kind of rough, I don't really have time to go through it right now, but I wanted to get it up for you guys

[E!]

Iuk was received pleasantly - if a little uncertainly. But this was usual, and so he paid no mind to it. The colt, infact, had taken Iuks odd appearance and voice rather well, and as mad as Iuk was, he registered this fact with a pleased smile. Kurrawa, the handsome colt was named. Iuk tossed his head suddenly, "The sea, the sea! The white gulls cry it as they fly over Iuks poor head, he has never been to the sea... is it as lovely as Iuk likes to believe?" the pale, unhealthy colt paused, eyes bright as he waited for an answer and then in a rush spoke again "Forgive, forgive for Iuk has yet to introduce himself to young Kurrawa! Iuk, named for the slithering eel that nips at horses ankles and their patience" a giggle slipped out of his pale lips.

His long ears flicked as if being bothered by flies, and Iuk turned quickly to scratch at his leg with his teeth, ridding himself of an itch. Turning back to the young horse, he said nothing and this gave way to an awkward silence. A silence that was broken by the arrival of more brumbies... and ones that Iuk was unlikely to ever forget. If they had been as unkind as other beasts he would have run, scrambled back to his insanity at the Moyungal River, but as it was the pale stallion outstretched his nose in welcome, and this in itself made Iuk stay.

The young stallion outstretched his pale pink nose to the elder, stronger stallion and touched it briefly, almost hesitantly. It had been too long since he had touched another, he almost expected pain to be begotten upon him from the velvet nose of this kind stranger. But pain was not received, and instead conversation was implied. At the question he had been asked, Iuk blinked quickly, nostrils flaring and ears flicking as he attempted to remember being anywhere but the river. He could not even remember his dam. "That knowledge is, unfortunately, lost to poor Iuk" he managed the sentence forcefully - as if it had been stuck in his throat.

The lovely mare that this kind stallion had brought was sweet also, greeting him not unkindly before turning her attention to the young colt Iuk had been speaking to before, Kurrawa. Iuk turned his attention back to the splendid ghost of a stallion before him, and spoke again, voice seeming weedy after the great stallions baritone "Iuk, named for the eel" he gave his name, perhaps hoping to receive the others in return.. for his kindness had given Iuk a pleasantly warm feeling inside his empty stomach, and this deserved to be remembered.

[Corowa]

VWerrilah stirred uneasily at what Kurrawa had told him. Surely, the two wise mares had not perished in the winter, for there had been no promise of loss in the mopoke’s call. He thought of their bones lying bleached somewhere up on the high granite tors of Lake Cootapatamba. At that same instant, the white colt stretched out his nose and Werrilah sniffed him curiously.

“I am Werrilah, son of Myrrina, mate to Tingara,” the young stallion said proudly. The wind stirred in the leaves of the snowgums, told of ancient tales, half-forgotten by all but the wisest of the mopokes. Werrilah, wise to the ways of the bush as once Myrrina had been, shivered with a terrible sense of dread. There seemed something menacing in the sudden stillness of the bush, in the tales of fillies that had vanished without sound into the night.

Kurrawa had left them, to walk on proudly over the snowgrass, the moonlight dancing in the silver hairs of his mane and tail. Boorana greeted him fondly, and Werrilah watched the young colt and mare a moment. Boorana had never seemed more splendid, her pale coat glistening brilliantly in the moonlight, and Pirnbial no more than a ghost by her side. Werrilah could feel his hide prickling at the sight of the two brumbies, and he turned back to Luk, sure there was some mystery here.

“I have heard of brumbies of the night, beautiful white mares led on by a fierce ghostly stallion. Perhaps you are descended from such brumbies, though it has been many years since the high country has rung with loss, and many have forgotten the old legends.” Werrilah gave the young white stallion a playful nudge with his nose and nipped his wither. Just then, he tossed up his head and struck out lightly with a foreleg.


“But tonight is no night for half-remembered stories and tales of brumbies long forgotten.” Werrilah said, and he stirred impatiently, looking longingly towards the lightly timbered ridges of Yarraman’s Valley. Every part of him felt filled by such a profound urgency, and Werrilah intended to see if Myrrina had returned to Tingara, for surely, the great black stallion still made his bimble there.

“Come, let us make the currawongs sing of our legend,” he snorted, and then the young stallion sprang away, swift and sure, galloping headlong through the thin belt of bush. He propped and swung around one of the big old snowgums, and then he was racing on through the blackness of the night, calling to the other young brumbies to come.

[yaruka]

Kurrawa, a natural leader, had never been one to heed the call of another, but Werrilah's rang with such a promise of excitement and adventure that he felt himself caught up completely in it and bolted after the pale ghost of a stallion. He had long admired his sister's mate, his honourary brother, and to be part of one of his adventures, not in a game, but in life greatly excited the colt. He ran with abandon, head thrown high and fine legs churning beneath him at a reckless speed, thankfully making little noise along the creekbed for the colt had certainly forgotten all of Taworri's teachings that night. He was followed by his sister, Boorana, a pale wisp of smoke in the moonlight, at her heels the queerly coloured foal. He knew not what had become of Iuk, though he assumed the other pale colt had followed, after all, who in their right midn would give up such an adventure?
-------------
Boorana's blood raced with excitement as she raced after the two males, her mate and her brother. She was lucky the two got on so well, her two favourite companions, for she had missed Kurrawa deeply-how sincerely she had only just realised. As Werrilah's call ran out from ahead she dug her hooves into the ground, springing ahead faster still. But soon it became necessary for her to slow down, for Pirnbial, though a swift colt, was hardly able to keep up the same pace as the more mature horses. Snorting in furstration, she ducked her head and gave a tense buck, she had never been slowed down by anything in life, but having a foal meant she must think of something else ahead of her own impulses. Her gallop became a collected, yet swift canter, restricted for the sake of the foal, his little nostrils flaring as he galloped to catch up, his narrow sides streaked with dust.

[E!]

The pale colt was growing more certain and fond of his fellow ghost and even pranced a little, ragged skin sagging against his shoulderblades. His wide eyes shone in the moonlight, looking like a yearling that had found something that seemed impossible and amazing. He followed the elder stallions gaze and watched Kurrawa greet what was obviously some family member of his, Iuk felt a deep sense of sorrow and loss grip his wretched heart and he felt like staggering underneath the sudden weight of emotion.

Werrilah, as Iuk now knew his name to be, spoke suddenly of a legend that stirred further emotion in the poor young two year olds scattered brain. Could he possibly be descended from these horses? He felt almost certain of this fact, and set his heart upon it, making it his history, his life before loss.

At the nip upon his wither, Iuk felt a sudden want to be in the past - to be that ghostly stallion leading his pack of wraiths over the High Country. He imagined instead of this, however, being the ghost stallion leading shadow horses through the land. Wraiths, he was not interested in. He stood out too much himself, and to have a plain black mare would be a sweet melody to his own brash heartbeat.

His blood thudded heavily in his ears, his hooves thudding lightly on the earth as he skittered impatiently. He needed only Werrilahs first move and Iuk was after him, his raggedy made brushing the handsome stallions rump as the two burst into flight. They would indeed, look like ghosts running in the moonlit night. Iuk was a poor comparison to his companion, all skin, bones and dirty white - but he held the mysterious appeal of a ghost horse. The sweat was soon pricking behind his ears as adrenaline galloped through his system.

A high, odd neigh left his lips, rough but compelling as it echoed into the quiet night. They were a ghost herd, moving through the night and making a whole new legend of their own.

[Corowa]

Werrilah plunged blindly up the steepening slope, up through the rough scrub and broken outcrops of granite. The blood pounded wildly in his veins, and the stallion’s throbbing call shattered the stillness of the night. A snowgum branch, only half-seen in the blackness of the night whipped his eyes, and through the wide mountain gums, there were the remains of an old stockman’s track and the fence that ran alongside it.

Werrilah propped and shied at the sight of that high fence. The stallion swung around, pale coat darkened with sweat and breath sobbing in his chest. He was only half-aware of the hushed stillness of the bush, for every part of him trembled, listening for the sharp crack of the stockwhip, the ring of shod hooves on rock.

In the shadows of the bush, there were signs of movement through the narrow-leaved tea tree, a gleam of brown hide, or glistening silver mane. The wind moved through the topmost snowgums, and it seemed to call his name. Filled with a trembling excitement, Werrilah hurtled down the slope, barely checking in his headlong gallop as he threaded his way through the snowgums. Then suddenly there was Boorana, and with a glad neigh, Werrilah sprung forwards to gather up that brown mare and her queer-coloured colt.

Werrilah could feel the colt’s breath, hot on his flank. Pirnbial was blowing frightfully, and Werrilah pulled up suddenly on his haunches, calling to Boorana. He reached over and gently nipped at Pirnbial’s shoulder. “Slow down young one,” Werrilah said with a snort. “One day you will be swift enough to race the wind itself, but for now you must grow strong on your mother’s milk, and soon enough the rich snowgrass of the high country. Surely, one day you will become a great stallion, perhaps even as great as your grandsire, King of the Cascade brumbies.”