Luck Has Me [R]

[E!]

Winter had settled Bokara's need to travel, and the beautiful bay had slowly made his way toward the Tin Mine - knowing that even in the snowy weather there would be a fairly good picking in the low area. He had three mares now, three lovely, beautiful mares. Each dear and close to his heart, for different reasons. They looked beautiful together, he knew it, as, even though he had attempted to avoid traveling through well populated areas, stallions had eyed them as they went past, and it was not hard to see the thoughts that moved behind the watching eyes.

Luckily though, the need for food was more urgent for the other stallions than taking Bokara's mares. At least for now. As his thoughts swirled about his companions, Bokara paused to watch them as they each followed his graceful steps. Quinja, his first and most sweet mare, her grey roan coat thick for winter came first, and then Nukara and Wurrun, Nukara with her milky pale coat, and Wurrun, her pale grey pelt and stature so appealing to the eye. Bokara's warm brown eyes shined in pleasure before he continued, tall legs brushing the snow off of the frozen bacon and egg bushes.

There was a small flat area ahead, lying between two sloping hills where grazing was lush and pleasant. Bokara's step quickened, and he led his three mares into the small valley-like area proudly. As soon as the three were all in behind him, he turned and moved through them, touching each on the wither. He touched Wurruns nose gently, blowing into her nostrils before moving on to stand next to Quinja. His lean muscles flexed as he watched and waited for a moment, making sure there was nothing to fear from their surroundings.

His fine head dropped to crop at the grass - making sure his companions did the same, it was the most important thing to do. Bokara wondered if he would sire any foals next spring, the thought suprising him. He had grown up too quickly. Despite his suprise, a warm feeling spread through him at the thought of his sons and daughters. His shoulder pressed against Quinja's as they grazed side by side, sharing warmth. The warm feeling he felt seemed to melt into a sadness at the thought of his grey roan - for surely the great black king would find her soon and take her away from him. For now, Bokara knew the king would be too busy finding grazing for his vast herd to be seeking one mare, but no doubt come springtime he would be searching once more.

The call of a currawong made Bokara look up, his long forelock sliding silkily to one side of his fine boned face. Its call didnt tell him anything of sadness and loss yet, and this thought have the beautiful bay confidence, and once more his gaze moved from one lovely mare to the next, pride making him feel warm once more.

OOC; Reserved for Bokara's herd and Talgarno

[Rivre]

Nukara trailed animatedly after the great bay, stride swinging in her youth, hooves dancing a beat against the earth, but a quiet one as she pranced along; Quinja was a kind mare, a very loving creature - and she thought of her as a good friend within their little herd, and she traveled up ahead, leading Wurrun and herself. She had not had much time to greet the new mare to join their ranks, but she believed her to have a good heart, and so she was content to move along quite close beside her. It seemed odd now, to be traveling in the day-lit hours, and she supposed she would never feel totally comfortable after so many years of wandering at night, a shadow creature.

It did seem like she was more prone to wavering in the trees, the shade and the quiet of hidden silence, but she did not care of it - merely of the bay who led them on, south. She had not much been to the south before, and the journey excited her greatly, thick pearly hide quivering at the flank as she blew harshly through her nose into the crisp air. The sun had not deserted them yet, but she feared it would soon, along with the lush grass and plentiful summer, and she placed dainty hooves down with care, throwing her rump carelessly at any stallion who glanced at her. Once, she had been sure there was a great horse shadowing Wurrun in the trees, but after a swift kick in no certain direction, the disturbance had left it alone. She had to admit, the pale grey was a pretty little thing, and she felt somewhat responsible for her safe-keeping, at the back of their line where she could keep an eye on things.

Of course, it wasn't her duty to do so, but she liked the feeling of suppressed fearfulness almost as much as she liked the clearing to which Bokara had led them. She touched her nose gratefully to dark flank, rubbing softly against him as he moved on, the familiar tingle raising the hair on her hide as they parted; gaze fell once more to Quinja, and an unknown spike of jealousy entered her domain, surprising and frightening her, so much so that she almost jumped... almost. She smothered the hurt quickly, and let forelock fall to cover the blacker orbs that betrayed her as she dropped her head to graze. She would not let some petty emotion ruin a good thing like today, besides, she very much liked the grey roan, and she very much liked Bokara - the two made quite a pair.

[Tiggs]

Like a gradient of white to grey, Bokara had collected three mares that did look good together. There was Nukara, who’s coat was solidly white as snow. Then there was Wurrun, whose dappled coat gave her a slight darkness. Then there was Quinja, whose dappled and roan coat was still much darker around the legs, mane and tail, but becoming greyer as her winter coat set in. The darkest of the three stuck close to Bokara. She had been long used to having Bokara all to herself, and this was the way they had always travelled, side by side.

But now there were the other two lighter mares. At first Quinja had been worried and more than a little jealous, but Bokara had lavished her with the same amount of affection, and never once ignored her in favour of spending his time with the other two. So Quinja had relaxed and accepted the new members of the herd willingly.

Bokara had led them to new grazing, and the grass was good under the thin layer of snow. Quinja leaned against her tall bay mate while she grazed, grateful for his warmth and oblivious the rest of the world. She nickered once in disappointment as Bokara moved off to tend to the other mares, but she could be content for now.


Nukara had been right about the shadowy presence. A bay stallion splashed with white as if the snow itself had caked on his legs and shoulder followed the group at a distance. Once he had come close, but the palest of mares had warned him off and he respectfully retreated. Initially he had been eying the dappled mare, but the paler of the followers caught his attention with her brave and protective nature.

The mare up front was of no interest to him, she was blatantly infatuated with the bay stallion, but Talgarno would happily challenge him for one of these greys. Perhaps both, but Talgarno was not a greedy stallion.

Up ahead, the group came to a stop and Talgarno situated himself down wind. There was something that tickled his nose about the roan, but he could not place it. He shrugged it off, and concentrated on the scents of the two greys. Grey was a colour particularly close to his heart as his father had been the same pure white as snow. He wanted one of them, but which? Why not let them choose?

The stallion tossed his head, ebony mane flying and freeing the snow from it. He started forward, making no attempt to mask his approach. Once in the clearing, he stopped and surveyed the group. He eyed the bay, and then nickered to the two lightest greys. Should one of them reply, he would challenge the bay for one or both of them and hopefully win them in a fair fight. He and the other bay seemed to be evenly matched, so it might be a close thing. Should neither mare show interest, however, Talgarno would graciously retreat and leave the group to their grazing.

[E!]

Bokara's always kept a keen eye on his mares, but the pressing need to find food to keep him strong enough to protect them divided his attention, and as his strong teeth grasped the soggy snowgrass underfoot, Bokara failed to notice the shadow that lingered at the edges of the little clearing. Feeling the warmth of Quinja's shoulder on his made Bokara tingle with pleasure, and he lifted his head with a silly pleased expression on his kind face. The bays wide, liquid mahogany eyes scanned the clearing, not really searching for anything but out of reflex.

He froze. Approaching at a leisurely pace was a stallion, and he showed no intention of stopping before he reached them. Bokara turned warily to face him, nostrils flaring. The stranger entered the clearing and Bokara stood in silence, tall legs ready to move in a heartbeat. His eyes flickered over his lovely herd, and he sighed inwardly - there was downfalls to having such beautiful mares. Bokara had a fondness for the colour grey, which was evident in his small herd.. and obviously the stranger felt the same.

He gave a gentle sound toward Nukara and Wurrun and Bokara stepped forward in protest, eyeing this newcomer with a wary gaze. Would it be that Bokara had to fight for his mares now, when he had just aquired them? Silence echoed around the clearing, and Bokara watched his two greys, feeling the heat of Quinja behind him as he stood protectively in front of her. Time paused.

And then Bokara chose to defend the right he had to peaceful grazing with his sweet mares. It would not do to wait for a reply, if one would come - no doubt Bokara would feel hurt by this. He strode forward, calling to Wurrun and Nukara quietly. Hopefully Quinja would retreat with the two to the border of the clearing, with an escape route close. "Would you take these mares that are so obviously mine O' confident bay?" Perhaps it was odd to speak, to ask questions of this stranger - after all, shouldnt they have been fighting? But Bokara had never been one for mindless violence, and obviously he was not an expert in the ways of war.

[Rivre]

It seemed solitude did not bode well for the little herd. After only a few moments of peace, the once quiet valley was filled with the hauty call of a stallion. Palest grey lobes flickered back and delicate head was thrown skywards as Nukara size-up the intruder; a handsome paint, but not half as strong and noble as her own Bokara. She did not offer a reply, merely swung around in an arogant manner and pranced out of view behind the strong bay.

She would happily have had him dance for her beauty, but it seemed silly now, compared to what she could loose so easily. She just hoped the other grey would have the same sense, and walk away without answer. If it was up to luck, the meeting would surely end in a fight. Well Bokara was a big horse now, he could win his own battles as easily as he could loose them.

[Tiggs]

The painted bay gave a chuff, his breath billowing from his nostrils in the cool air. So all the mares were attached to the stallion? Talgarno was sure that would change if he were to challenge and beat their beloved leader, but like Bokara, mindless violence was not something Talgarno participated in without due cause. Rather than take offence to the mare’s reaction, he nickered again to them, and turned to the stallion as he spoke.

“It is the way of the bush for a mare to want to follow the stronger stallion. These mares are no more yours than they are mine. If they wish to follow you rather than I then so be it, but they should know I find them delightful, and would challenge for all of them if this were spring.” He lifted his noble head, arched the crest of his neck and flagged his tail.

He met eyes with the palest grey and nickered again. “You seem unimpressed. I think you judge me prematurely, lovely pale mare. I think I shall leave you with your stallion and hope you might ponder through the winter about the stallion that picked you from a crowd and gave you well-deserved compliments.”