Troubled Waters [Iluka]

[Tiggs]

Spring was usually a time of joy and new life. The pale palomino mare drinking at the edge of Dead Horse Creek though was wary and tired. Her new son suckled, and the mare nosed his white-speckled rump with her damp muzzle. He first foal, Araluen was over the creek with the main herd, just visible in the distance. While they grazed out in Dead Horse Gap, Kurrin had come away from the herd to get her thoughts in order.

Maka, her colt, should have lifted her mood but it was his father, her mate Nepelle that troubled her. He had lost a succession of fights, and though his external wounds were not great, she knew that his spirit still bled. He was increasingly distant from her, and she did not know if their love could sustain them both any more.

She shook her head and stared into the rippling creek. Nepelle needed her to be strong, but she had helped carry his burdens for many season, and her back was beginning to ache from the strain of it. Nothing she did seemed to penetrate his sadness. What more, a pair of new fillies seemed to succeed where she could not.

They had joined the herd a few days ago when Kurrin had been away giving birth to their son. Mayrah was a dapple grey, young and full of life. Toolain was a dark bay, and doted on Nepelle every moment of every day. It was Mayrah who Kurrin was jealous of. The younger mare. The prettier mare. She could see something in Nepelle’s eyes that she never saw when he looked at her. It was the way he had looked at her years ago when they had found each other, when their love was fresh and new and beautiful. When their love was not dulled with time.

Kurrin’s heart beat laboriously when she thought of what she was losing, as if she had run for miles to catch it. She could not let Nepelle fade away from her, but she did not know how to stop it. Perhaps he was happier with his new mares… Perhaps he did not need her any more. She gave a shaky sigh, but was brought from her traumatic thought by a sound behind her.

She threw up her head, looking into the trees that bordered the creek. Maka stopped nursing, and copied his mother. He wasn’t sure why, but he flickered his fuzzy orange foal ears and discovered that he could hear something too! In his excitement, he whinnied and bucked, prancing around his mother’s feet. Kurrin flared her nostrils, trying to catch a scent but with Maka now drowning out any noise she thought she’d heard, she could not detect anything.

“Maka, my son. Quieten down. We must go back to the herd now; I think we are not alone here.” The pale mare looked warily into the bush once more, but was hesitant to leave. Her worries were less this side of the creek, and to return to the herd would bring them down to rest on her heart and slowly crush it. She did not think she could face watching Nepelle fuss and groom his two new mares. Not yet, at least.

[Ehetere]

Iluka trotted along happily, listening to the sound of calling birds in the trees and occasionally stopping to nibble at the new spring growth. It was possibly his favorite time of year – lots of new fillies fresh out of their herds and looking for adventure. And he was their man, of course. Who could resist his charms?

The palomino colt heard the trickle of a nearby stream - Dead Horse Creek? He’d spotted the men’s huts a short time ago, empty thankfully, so that must be it. His mother had always had an unknown yearning to stay in the higher mountains of the Ramshead, so he hadn’t gotten to this part of the high country often. Shame, it was quite pretty, and full of even prettier fillies.

The soft voice of such a filly could be heard from just beyond the tree line, and Iluka had not realized he was so close to the creek. He had been rather noisy too, silly him. Oh well, she’d heard him, so he’d better go and grace her with his presence.

Prancing out of the trees, not bothering to check for the herd just across the swiftly flowing creek, he arched his neck elaborately and flicked his tail about. Iluka was a big colt, with already evident muscles and the evident makings of a strong stallion in the future. Something he made sure to exploit to any fillies his age, since he was sure most of the other colts were all skinny and short still.

He stopped dead in surprise when he saw the filly was older than he’d first thought, and she had a foal too. But boy, was she prettier than he’d first thought. With a lovely smooth coat the colour of pale sand and an even paler smatting of white spots across her rump, she could have been mistaken for a Silver were it not for those markings. They actually looked similar to that of the ones on his mother and younger brother, but not quite the same. Not that it really mattered – the point here was that she was very beautiful indeed.

Bowing elaborately to show her he meant no harm, the colours of the herd over the creek finally catching his eye. Though Iluka was not the smartest colt to walk the high country, he at least had the sense to associate this lovely mare with the herd. And her foal meant a stallion.

“Greetings, O Fair Filly,” he said, offering her the compliment he had first thought of her. “Are you lost this fine spring day? That stallion who is across here creek must be a mighty fool indeed to let one so beautiful as you fall behind.”

Remembering his manners, he nickered a quick greeting to the red and white colt around her ankles. “Especially as you have such a fine young son at foot. Is he your first? He is very handsome indeed.”

[Tiggs]

Kurring flicked her flaxen tail and nudged Maka behind her. The spotted chestnut peered under her belly, too young to really conceive another brumby as danger. His dam was more wary, however, and her ears saddled hesitantly. She did not often see other colts or stallions – Nepelle saw to that – so she was a little unsure what to make of him. He seemed polite, though, so she ignored the niggling doubt and responded.

“My stallion Nepelle knows where I am,” well, she assumed he had noticed her departure unless he was that enamoured with Mayrah, “We came down here to drink. We’ll be going back soon.” A quick glance over the creek and then back to the palomino colt made her less anxious to get back though. She flickered her ears forward, and gave a polite smile. Some of the shyness that ruled her as a filly made a comeback, and she bobbed her head self-consciously.

“My son is Maka, and I am Kurrin.” Talking about her foals with a stranger was a little awkward, but she did not want to offend him. “Maka is my second foal. My first, Araluen is over with the rest of the herd.” She nuzzled the poll of her son’s head, fluffing his fuzzy orange mane. She smiled fondly over her son, and looked to the palomino colt again.

He was a descent size for his age, or he could be small for his age. She flared her pale nostrils and took note of his built and stature. He would mature to be a fine stallion, and Kurrin guiltily found herself appreciating that. His coat was a rich gold like sunshine, his face splashed with pointed white like his legs. It was a handsome effect, and Kurrin ducked her head so he might not see the sparkle in her eye that betrayed her interest.

[Ehetere]

Iluka had only ever heard whispers of a stallion named Nepelle, vague memories that were only half remembered. He heard the stallion had challenged the King, and had lost. That was the clearest of them. That however, did not mean he was anything less than a terrifying beast. Iluka would need to be very careful here.

His hopeful expression dropped a little as she seemed less than keen to stick around – why the hurry he might ask? Was his company not fine? Quickly regaining his bold manner he posed a little more so his golden coat would catch the light brilliantly, not pale like that of a Silver, far from it, but with a glittering sheen that mirrored a lake on a hot day. Reasoning she was wise to be wary until she gauged his character, his ears perked a little more hopefully as she did not begin to make a hasty retreat.

Bowing graciously once more, he smiled at the mare, reaching his neck out a little more in curiosity. “I am Iluka,” he said proudly, giving his annoying mane a shake to flick it out of his eyes. It was an awkward length, and Iluka did not know whether this would be permanent or not, he hoped for the latter. It was long enough so he no longer looked immature, but as he had demonstrated before it was not long enough to fall in such a manner it was out of the way.

“Your second?” he mirrored, genuinely surprised. Still, some mares bred young, obviously this one had. “I never would have guessed.”

Pondering exactly how to proceed here, he watched the creamy mare with bright eyes. He would quite like to go over and help rid her of her winter coat with a grooming session, but she was so shy! Not that this was a bad thing, just meant he had to be more cautious. At least she was not one of those appalling mares who point blank refused to talk to a colt unless his father was famous.

Opting for hopefully a safer route, he pranced forward a few steps to close the small gap between them, offering out his nose in proper greeting.

“Stay a little Kurrin, I beg of you. Though your stallion may miss your presence, I have barely been awarded the company of another brumby since autumn, though none so lovely as this morn, or you.”

[Tiggs]

Kurrin shied a little as he came closer, but her dark eyes stayed steadily on him. Maka felt no such reservations, and stood watching the older male with curious eyes. Kurrin nickered and nudged his rump, Just confidence in one so young. He had no concept of danger. The mare glanced at Iluka and wondered what danger there could possibly be. He was just a colt in search of company. Kurrin realised she could not leave him to graze alone, so tentitivly she stretched out her nose and touched it to his.

There was an electricity she chose to ignore, but she did not pull away. “I can stay for a while, but not for long.” She told him, voice soft. She offered a shy smile, and dropped her head to graze. After a moment, Maka followed suit though he played with the grass more than eating it.



Meanwhile, there was some more obvious flirting going on. Spring was in the blood and hearts of all the brumbies, and Mayrah and Toolain were especially excited. They had travelled alone for a long time, and meeting Nepelle had been an unforeseen gift. Since separating with Adoni, Mayrah had spent time travelling. On her adventures, she’d come across Toolain. After faring the winter together, Mayrah felt the pangs of herd life gnawing at her, and she had insisted to Toolain that they find not just any stallion.

Since the King of the time had been her father’s enemy, Mayrah had been keen to find a different yet no less spectacular stallion. Nepelle was all that she could want, and Toolain was happy to follow where Mayrah led. The pale dapple grey who pranced in front of Nepelle now was a far cry from the solemn filly of her youth. Mayrah was a mare now, and Nepelle had entranced her from the beginning.

Toolain had always aspired to find a stallion – any would do for her – but Nepelle was strong, brave and handsome. Although he had lost against the King, the fact that he still lived was a testament to his strength. While Mayrah teased, Toolain stood by Nepelle’s side and grazed. It was a rare thing for Toolain to be away from Nepelle’s side for long. She had spent too much of her adult life alone, and it showed in the way she clung to Nepelle.

Mayrah took advantage of her heritage, her long dark mane twisting and turning with her dance, her short but powerful legs taking her in sharp circles and her convex head held proudly. Within a few years, the darkness of her mane and legs would fade and she would be as white as the driven snow, a winter princess, proud to call the one great stallion Nevada her father.

She nickered to Nepelle, encourage him to play. She knew there was a weight that rested on Nepelle’s heart, and her instinctual response was to try and lift it, or at least share the burden. She called him again, voice sweet and low. She danced backward, somehow keeping her feet under her. Again she called, enticing him away from the herd and his thoughts to dance with her.



While she grazed with Iluka, her troubles began to recede to the back of her mind. Perhaps things were not as dire with Nepelle as she thought. Really, what was there to worry about? She was making mountains out of hillocks. Of course Nepelle loved her. He had said he always would. Was she doubting him?

She grazed in silence for a while, convincing herself that when she returned to the herd, she would talk to Nepelle and things would go back to the way they were. It was strange it took a colt like Iluka to remind her what it had been like to love Nepelle so strongly. She owed him thanks, even though he did not know for what.

She reached over to nuzzle his cheek with a smile. Her ear gave a flicker and she glanced over to the herd. Mayrah was calling to Nepelle, and the confidence Kurrin had built plummeted. She danced with such grace, how could she compete? Of course Nepelle would go to her. They would dance together and Kurrin would be forgotten.

The spotted palomino made a soft noise of despair and turned her back on the scene before she could see any more. Nepelle had not even noticed she was gone. She could run away now and her stallion would not notice, his attention so rapt with Mayrah. He had other mares much more beautiful than her to love, and she was deluding herself that he ever would love her like that again.

[Ehetere]

Iluka’s heart leapt when the creamy mare reached her nose out to his, and he was glad she did not run off to find her stallion. Her colt seemed in no hurry to leave either, which was just as well. Iluka knew that mares could be very protective of their offspring.

The golden palomino chose to ignore the mare’s insistence – she said that now, but then she hardly knew what she was missing. He snorted affectionately, breathing in her scent so he might remember it later on. She pulled away, and the colt took the opportunity to gaze in the direction of the powerful looking stallion’s herd once more. If he was caught… Well, he’d just have to hope he wasn’t.



Nepelle was completely distracted as to what his mate and the palomino colt were doing. Ever since his defeat by the black King, who had now passed away to prevent him any opportunity of a rematch, he had been more reserved, less cheerful. Even less so now that another younger stallion had foiled his attempt to regain his honor in a bid for the Kingship. The creamy mare had tried to lift his spirits, but the black stallion’s daughter only brought more pain upon himself. Oh how he had failed.

Now it was spring, the chestnut stallion was trying to drown his sorrows, so to speak. He’d managed to acquire two new fillies, who seemed all excitement and enthusiasm. They were fresh, new and most importantly not a black stallion’s daughter. One was a dapple grey, who danced so alluringly before him now, and the other was brown – not that Nepelle had ever discriminated because of colour. Both were an excuse for him to be in the right frame of mind once more, to forget his shame.

The grey filly’s shrill whinny dragged him from his thoughts once more, although he tried to keep them as few as possible now to save himself the pain. Lifting his head and trying to shake the dullness from his being, he glanced at Toolain beside him, giving her a comforting nuzzle before prancing after her friend. He was not the horse he used to be, the fiery stallion of his youth, and whether that be from age or dampened spirit he did not know. Even so, he did try – lifting his chestnut legs in a rhythmic dance to match the filly as she led him away. Oh please, let him forget.



Iluka meanwhile was in a constant exchange between wondering how he might persuade her he was more handsome than her stallion and being terrified of the great horse at the same time. His twitchiness did not outwardly show aside from the occasional flick of the ear or a cursory glance in the direction of the herd. They were a long way off… He just hoped it was far enough.

He nickered sweetly as the mare nuzzled at his cheek – would it really be that easy? Was he stallion such a cruel creature she would rather choose a colt? Iluka hoped not, surprisingly. He did not want to incur the wrath of a more ferocious, powerful, experienced stallion.

The creamy palomino gazed in the direction of the herd longingly, and the warmth of her expression evaporated like summer rain. Anguish flooded her features, and the noise she made was possibly one of the saddest the colt had heard in his short lifetime.

“Shhh,” he cooed, nickering warmly as she turned away. Lifting her drooped head tenderly with his own muzzle, he blew softly at her cheek, hoping she would not pull away.

[Tiggs]

Kurrin did not pull away, but she shook with indecision. Oh how she wanted to return to Nepelle and receive the warmth that he shared with the other mares, but she was sure as soon as she returned to him, he would become cold again. Having briefly watched him from here, she began to wonder f it was her absence that attributed to his good mood. Was she reason for his sullenness?

Beside her, Maka cowered nervously. He’d picked up on his dam’s mood, and was uneasy. The golden stallion was making him wary, and he almost felt the urge to run back to the herd! He felt his mother’s reassuring nuzzle, and with her insistence, he started to nurse noisily.

Kurrin craned her neck to watch her son, desperately not wanted to see the out of focus brumbies in the far distance. She must stop fretting for Maka’s sake. She was making the poor colt nervous, and that would not help either of them.

She straightened her neck and came face-to-face with Iluka again. He was another complication. She knew she should have head straight back to the herd on meeting him, but she had lingered, and now she not only had a reason not to go back to the herd, but to stay away also. The golden colt was a calming influence, and she reached out her dusky muzzle to touch against his. Pale whiskers brushed his, and her ears flickered back and forth.

Her tail gave a flick in her uncertainly, and Maka complained with a muffled whinny as it lashed his flank. So that was how she came to be standing stock still, her nose pressed to a golden stranger’s.