Slice of Heaven [O]

[E!]

The springtime was not a particular favourite time of year for Burley, she prefered the snow - she was certainly not old enough to know the ache of the cold in her bones in the morning, her youth and constant energy making sure of that. So snow posed no issue to her but the issue of constantly wanting to prance and play in it. It didnt help, either, that Burley was as simple as the rocks her hooves pranced on. However, this helped her enjoy the sweetness of life - something she focused on. She was clueless but happy.

Paddy Rush's Bogong was usually an area that attracted all brumbies in the Spring - young, old, filly, colt. This was why Burley had danced and pranced her way to the Bogong, she sorely missed the company of others. Ever since she had wandered from Prisma's side - a decision she still wasnt sure she regretted or not, Burley had been alone.. save for her friends the kangaroos of course. She generally prefered it this way, she had no interest in joining a herd and becoming a mother - or rather, she didnt understand the need for it. Either way, Burley had found that though she had been alone now for both Summer and Winter, only now did she feel the desire for company.

Her mind had, of course, wandered to Omeo - a delightfully down to earth colt that she had met only once before. He would have been a good companion to have during the cold winter, she thought. Her easy going nature, however, had stopped her from actively searching the young brumby out. She was a rather pretty thing, with a coat of the palest cream, with four white stockings and a rather striking thick blaze. Her eyes, too, were quite compelling.. despite their obvious lack of intelligence. A deep brown, large and wet, surrounded by a thicket of dark lashes. Considered a prize, for her coat. Burley, however, was not one for staying in one place too often.

Prisma had found this, as she constantly wandered far from the herd, and eventually not returning at all. That didnt matter now, Burley thought, as Prisma hadnt bothered to seek her out - she wasn't worth the effort perhaps. Burley didnt ponder this, it wasn't her way to think too heavily about one subject. Instead, the pale cream mare gave a high, delighted neigh as she saw a brolga performing its queer dance between two redgums. Watching eagerly, Burley pranced, attempting to perform her own dance as a warm ray of sunshine heated her back.

[Corowa]

The mare stilled at the edge of the snowgums, one forefoot raised and mane and tail rippling silver in the morning light. There came the faintest wisp of movement, and Wilgee wondered if it was stockman or brumby that flitted so silently through the bush. She placed each hoof with care, moving without track or sound, sometimes invisible in between the rough trunks of the snowgums, sometimes seen in the faint outline of a head, or flash of silver mane.

Wilgee watched the Brolga as it weaved its dance beneath the spreading mountain gums. She felt a shiver go through her, for in its thrilling dance was the promise of excitement, of a glorious chase through the snowgums; of all the wild joy that is living. The mare moved slowly forwards, so transfixed by the sight of the great grey Brolga that for once she walked without care.

Then suddenly, Wilgee stopped in her tracks and gave a queer, shocked cry. There, dancing on a small flat of snowgrass was a beautiful creamy mare. Wilgee stood with head upflung, every part of her tense and questioning. Who was this mare that seemed possessed by the lightness of the wind itself? Wilgee felt her curiosity deepen, and in an instant, the mare gathered herself and sprang out onto the open.

She felt the snowgrass springy underfoot, and possessor of all that splendid swiftness that was Tambo’s, she stretched out into a gallop. Wilgee let out a playful buck and swung in a wide circle about the dancing creamy mare, inviting her to join her in a gay chase through the snowgums.

[Rivre]

Spring, summer, winter - what was the difference? The heat was intolerant, or maybe it was just him whose hide itched with anger at the very sight of skitish foals and opening buds. It just meant more fillies who would dance before him and the flit away again in that stupid silence they seemed so fond of. More mares, who were undeniably out of his reach and yet so plainly beautiful. Yileen had reached his fifth year of life, and although he wandered aimlessly, his swinging stride was purposeful, he had goals. Today, he would find himself a mare or two, win them if he must - but he could no longer suffer the quiet alone. Springy snowgrass stems and the promise of open country meant no place for those prancing brumbies to hide. Even if they did, he would stake them out, because today, he was in no mood to be messed with.

Smutty dun hide glistening as the rays of yellow sunlight spilt through a break in the single cloud blocking the burning sun, frothy black mane whipped up by the slight breeze and tainted black legs lifting high with pride, he went trotting out onto the Bogong. It couldn't be that he was ugly, far from it, he was beautiful! But maybe arrogance and the sheer rudeness of himself was what scared away so many of his subjects. Tossing finely chiseled head at the thought of being less than handsome, Yileen pulled to an abrupt halt, ears pushed forwards in his eagerness, every muscle tensed ready to leap away at the slightest inkling of movement. Some few herds grazed in the distance, but no-one he had spotted yet quite close enough to call. Oh well, what did it matter to him anyway? Throwing caution to the wind, he let one shrill call echo over the stretch of heather and snowgrass, throat contracting from the power with which he threw it and all the promise of wonder he could capture in it too.

Suddenly the intense gaze was focused, every limbed poised, curiosity and defiance written on his features - for there - in broad daylight, swung a glistening silver mare. If he had been able to, jaw would have dropped, but now his intentions were quite clear, his thoughts were one-track, he must have that creamy! But then there was another, the focus of the first who bucked and raced, another creamy. It was as if all the adrenaline could not be contained within his one too small self, and he let loose another trumpeting cry, this one more challenging, prouder, as he sprung forwards. There was no denying his sooty hide gleamed, his black banners rippled in the breeze he created, strong limbs eating up the ground as he thundered towards them. It was not of his nature to plan anything, not even his approach of two such sensitive mares, but his head seemed to calm a little as he went, and he slowed to a jolly canter. With another cry, he rose in a half-rear as he cajoled onwards, stride short and quipped by eagerness. How lucky he was to have found such things of beauty, and now they would follow him! How naive he was.

[E!]

Burleys dance was a thing of joyous, youthful energy - she didnt attempt to capture any of the queerness of the Brolga's own qualities, but added her own gay strength.. she wasn't wise nor intelligent like the beautiful grey bird, but danced with him all the same. So into her own cavorting steps, Burley was suprised when an odd, though friendly, neigh came from the other side of the clearing. Burley didnt stop her dance, rather pivoted and pranced to see whom might have been the owner of that suprised call.

She was not dissapointed, rather overjoyed, when a filly leapt from the treeline. A filly not unlike her, it seemed. A pale beauty, silent as a whisper and swift as Tambo himself! The energy of her new companions entrance made Burleys chocolate eyes light up in pleasure - finally, someone to play with! As soon as the mare had circled her once, Burley leapt forward, eyes alight. A loud, excited neigh left her lips and the creamy bucked and danced.

Whirling off to the right, silky mane flying in the air behind her as she dodged through the snow gums, Burley felt a great sense of companionship - after all, they could be sisters! What with their similar colouring, something Burley knew didnt occur too often. She gave an inviting call, neat hooves digging into the soft, springy snowgrass as she slowed and bucked again, mane and tail cascading around her. All of a sudden - and it seemed this way to Burley, for it was difficult for her to focus on two things at once, another call rang out proudly across the Bogong.

Propping to a standstill, incredulous, Burley searched for its owner, small ears pricked with curiousity. She was not at all educated in the ways of stallions and mares. In a flash, she had scrambled her way back to her playmates side. This did not, however, stop her sense of curiousity and playfullness. A stallion was coming swiftly toward them, strong and handsome. Burley slipped a look to her companion, brown eyes wide with interest. He did possess a strength and pride about him that was attractive - and his smutty hide was pleasing to the eye. Burley let out a loud neigh as he slowed, tossing her lovely head joyously.

After a quick glance to the mare beside her, Burley pranced forward slightly, half rearing and bucking playfully. She wasnt sure of how close she should get - he looked awfully strong. However, she was not one to be afraid of the unknown, and her eyes lit up again as she released another, sweet neigh. Her wide blaze stood out brightly in the warm sunshine, creamy hide sleek as she ducked back and forth, encouraging play to resume.

[Corowa]

Wilgee squealed in excitement and leapt away over the snowgrass. She dodged nimbly through the silver-grey trunks of the snowgums, a flash of colour between the trees. Wilgee caught the mare in the thick scrub, and she raced on, twisting and turning as she galloped, swinging neatly about the few gnarled snowgums, throwing her mocking challenge to the wind.

Just at that moment, a trumpeting call rang out over the flat. Wilgee stopped in her tracks and whirled about. There, on a rough outcrop of rock stood a huge dun-coloured stallion. The mare stirred uneasily, and she could feel her skin prickle with the uncomfortable feeling of danger. Then the stallion went up on his hind legs, and Wilgee watched, both fascinated and fearful, as he plunged down the slope towards them. He was a heavy horse, but could gallop, and soon enough he was close enough the mare could see the whites of his eyes. No longer able to contain herself, Wilgee turned and bolted.

The mare shot into the band of snowgums, feeling the sting of branches whipping her shoulders, neck and flanks, urging her onto a faster pace. She galloped blindly, on and on, until she was dripping with sweat and blowing frightfully. Only then did she pull up short on her haunches and stop to get her breath. Her ears flicked nervously back and forth, and she listened intently, suddenly sure that big dun stallion would burst out of the snowgums in an instant.

OOC: Wilgee is not a big fan of stallions so feel free to have Yileen chase her.

[Rivre]

The young cream filly was beautiful, in perfect proportion and with added white splashes, mane and tail a shinning silver banner as the sunlight fell to her also. Yileen threw his own darker head too, nickering invitingly, curious at this young one's side-stepping manner. It was true, he was a brute to other brumbies, and sometimes his temper would get the better of him, but to mares and fillies he could be nothing but gracious, forward yes, but still gracious. "You are as beautiful as the sun on snow o' pale fily of light and youth," he told her, gaze level but head held high at his compliments, none but those who were unworthy would doubt his charm and his attraction, "I am Yileen, named after a dream of a beautiful stallion - after a ghost." In the few words he spared, he tried to cram as much mystery and as much boldness into his deep tones, stepping forwards with short steps, nose extended to touch the creamy filly's.

Before he had the chace to pleasure such a thing, the second creamy, who was just as delightful and spirited, whirled away and off into the trees. A startled whinny followed her disappearing form, and fore-foot raised, poised. If he followed the older, more developed mare, would he loose the interest of this pretty filly also? No! No creature as handsome as himself could possibly be denied a beautiful herd - she would follow. Touching his nose quickly to the prancing silver's cheek, Yileen began to trot steadily after the other far gone brumby, neck arched and calling imperilously, for her return, and for the younger to follow the mystery of himself.

It did not take him long to enter the grabbing enclosure of whip-gums, tips of frosted wax leaves, leaving trails of silver upon his dappled dun hide, glistening. The wattle flower buds dragged slowly in the breeze he made, a wombat shuffling along the very same track scuttling out of the huge stallions path, little face crinkled with annoyance. Although he did not travel quickly, his constant speed and her brust of energy all evened-out to equal round-about the same distance, and he came skidding clumsily from the tree line and back into the open where creamy mare stood sweating. He wasted no time in offering peace, a gentle, reassuring nicker eascpaing slightly gaping lips. Even in her state she was a prize to be withheld.

[E!]

The reaction Burley received from the stallion was immediate and gracious, causing a bemused smile to ripple across the pale fillies lips. Compliments always escaped her, though she did feel a warm feeling of pleasure at being spoken to so beautifully. As he spoke, the dun beast stepped forward boldly, nose extended. Burley, being as spur-of-the-moment as a leaf on the wind, followed suit. Her white splashed nose extended, soft as velvet.

Touching Yileens darker nose curiously, Burley gave an excited whicker, speaking brightly. "I am Burley, named for the last star to fade at dawn". Without any other sensible words to spare, Burley let her sweet honey voice fade out to silence, her delicate ears pricked in interest. With a suprised whinny, Burley felt her companion whirl away, leaving behind the scent of fear.

Another suprised sound left her throat as an unexpected touch was felt on her cheek, her milk brown eyes widening. The touch was soon gone though, replaced with an imperious neigh, calling for her to follow as Yileen trotted swiftly after her fellow creamy. If Burley had been a more intellectually competent filly, she might have felt an inkling of jealousy or felt indignant at the prompt abandonment of her company for the other creamy.. but of course, being simple meant being unaware - and she was certainly unaware of any competition.

So she followed without complaint, if only to see why her playmate had run away so swiftly and without warning. She cavorted and danced behind the dun, eyes twinkling as she snuffed at a disgruntled wombat. She paused to blow at some wattle bushes, enjoying the bright yellow of the flowers. At the sound of Yileens friendly whicker, Burley lifted her pretty head eagerly, snorting as she pranced forward to stand slightly away from the big dun, watching her fellow creamy with curious eyes.

She lowered her head for a moment, snatching some of the sweet snowgrass, silky mane sliding over her eyes before she tossed her head playfully to remove it. Looking from Yileen to her playmate - whom she still did not know the name of, she wondered why the two were so quiet. Prancing slightly, and starting to feel a little nervous because of the tension, Burley let out a questioning whicker. What are we doing? With a snort of discomfort, the pale mare half reared and danced forward toward the other creamy filly. Why was she so nervous of Yileen?

[Corowa]

Something moved through the line of snowgums, and in an instant there was that dun stallion, seeming suddenly menacing as he slowly advanced. Wilgee shied sharply sideways, thinking that the stallion meant to drive her back out to that open plain. The mare squealed in surprise and anger, struck out furiously with her heels even as she swung around, out of reach of those strong hooves. Although she had no longing to run with any stallion, Wilgee hated the look of this huge dun stallion, for he was heavy, lumbering, not worthy of a mate such as her.

With a shrill whinny of warning, the mare pressed back into the snowgums. She could feel unseen eyes watching from somewhere nearby, and she stirred uneasily. Just then, that other creamy mare stepped neatly from the trees, a prize for any stallion or stockman, and Wilgee’s nostrils vibrated with an unspoken question. Will you go with him?

If she hurried, she could not hide her tracks, and though she might escape, he would find her eventually. A shiver ran through the mare, for perhaps she would be lamed or worse if she provoked him. Yet perhaps she might lead him on such a chase through the snowgums that she could wear him down, wait until he was tired enough that he could not catch her. If she trusted in her cunning, she might get away, for such a heavy horse could not go very fast for long.

Although every part of her urged her to go before this stallion could gather himself to follow, Wilgee found herself moving slowly forwards. The mare touched her nose shyly to his, and blew softly through her nostrils in greeting. “I am Wilgee, grand-daughter of Tambo and of Wanga,” she said, and the mare found herself longing suddenly for Illoura, with whom she could have mocked and teased this stallion until he was blind with fury. Wilgee would be nothing more than a teasing gadfly, would play gaily enough until finally she could escape.

Feeling a sudden sense of daring, she playfully nipped at the stallion’s shoulder. If he had been only a young stallion, not yet in his prime, she might have let him think he could hold her. Yet there was strength there in the proud arch of his neck, and he looked much fiercer than that dolt Thalera. Wilgee nibbled on his mane a moment, and then she turned curiously to him. “What is it that the currawongs call you O great stallion of the bush?”