Darkening Skies [Nandalie Herd/Open]

[Tiggs]

Forboding had settled over Nandalie like a cloud. He had been in spar upon spar, and each one he had come out a little weaker. He was not as young as he used to be, and after the last fight, he had lost all but two mares and now sported a limp. All his joints were stiff, made worse by the cold weather creeping up from the south. He had returned to familiar ground, hoping he would be able to hide his mares away and survive through this winter.

But deep down he knew he could not last out another winter, and he was not sure which would be more heart-breaking, losing his mares or letting them see him slowly fade. The strawberry roan, almost chestnut in his winter coat, kept up a strong exterior, but his mares must already know what was coming. Aquila and Corowa were both wise mares, and it would be insulting to assume he was fooling them.

As the days darkened, Nandalie spent more and more time watching the skies, just hoping that the great eagle would return and spirit Aquila away before she had to suffer with him much more. He had done his best to look after her, but time was something he could not fight. One of his many regrets was that he would never see their first foal that she carried inside of her.

Corowa was another of his worries. She had been so loyal, and to disappoint her was a weight on his heart. As much as it would pain him to lose her, she deserved a doting stallion that had many more years left to love her. Yet another foal she was carrying for him, and he knew that come spring, that filly or colt would be growing up with a different herd.

With a great sigh, the old stallion shook his head and cropped at the short mountain grass that was still long around the boulders springing from the ground. His fate was inevitable, but at least he could see to it that his mares would not be left alone. Nandalie limped to them, pressed his muzzle to each of their noses. “I want you to be happy,” he intoned with a voice soft and serious, “so know that whatever should happen in the coming weeks, I want you both to listen to your hearts, and take a chance on a better future should it present itself.”

[rewind]

I LOVE NANDALIE Unfortunately, Kaihautu is a testosterone-jacked jerk.

Puffing air through his nostrils, the dappled stud had found the scent of a herd at last. A few mares and a stallion, who would be assessed all in good time. If he moved in on a strong, young stallion he might find himself beat and without mares but with a few new scars to add to his grey mottled pelt. He'd been scouting recently and had not found a herd and a stallion to his likings. He himself was not particular as far as the herd's size went; something small and easy to govern would make an excellent founding herd. From there he could steal mares or find lone ones to add to his ranks, and from his loins would come new foals in the spring. He'd fared the winter fairly well thus far, and had hopes that perhaps someone else had not.

Breaching a snowy crest he saw them, a small, tidy herd and a strawberry roan stallion. He breathed in and shot out the air with a powerful snort as he assessed their scents. He watched the stallion's movements for several silent, cruel moments. A limp. Tired joints. He tended to his mares, he could see the puff of breath where he was assumably speaking to them. A herd stallion he was, on a level with his mares. Possibly in his prime, Kaihautu thought, this stud had been a magnificent creature. But nature broke down what it also built up and Kaihautu's ears flicked forward. A chance was there before him, and stamping one heavy hoof against the ground the dappled grey stallion snorted, a heavy exhale of breath once more.

From his vantage point he arched his neck and perked his well-cut ears, eyes staring down at the small crowd intently, a whiplash flick of his tail splitting the air as he called out with a loud trumpet. A challenge, he called, and with a show of power, prime and grace he descended the slope toward the small group, intelligent head held high, poll arched, and long, thick legs flexing as he carried himself through the snow. He did not barrel straight at the stallion or attempt to shy the mares away. Instead, he came to a stop, squaring his feet and bidding them to keep still despite the adrenaline which coursed through his veins like battery acid. He watched the herd stallion intently. "A challenge," He called with a calm, deep voice. "For your mares, old king," He said, not without respect. For a stallion to have had a herd and kept his mares to a good age was an accomplishment and a credit indeed to the stud's excellence.

[Rivre]

Thackory had been watching his father for a while now, despair and regret colouring his usually placid features as he watched the stiffness with which the older horse moved. He had fought many a battle of recent and all of them had befallen him an injury - one that made each day that passed a misery and a worry for the red roan stallion. Thackory's own roaned hide had turned a darker shade for the winter - more bay than red now, coat grown in for the cold months, and yet he shivered as he grazed - gazing mildly to the south. He was almost three years old now but he still felt as if his place was with his herd despite misgivings that his sire or even his dam may harbour - he felt he had something to offer in the way of protection. He could at least care for his sisters while Nandalie bothered himself with keeping well.

The new chill day did not come with peace however, and Thackory - aware of his fathers movement and deep tones - was perhaps the first to spot the newcomer as he rose into the herd's sights. He was a strong looking horse, grey and lean, more muscly than even Penala, the stallion who had stolen Warriwillah away, but his challenge soon rang out across the snowgrass range, and Thackory found himself feeling an sudden strong dislike for the brumby. He would challenge a clearly wounded stallion for all of his mares?! It was unheard of to the chunky roan. Dark bay head thrown up and lobes pricked forwards, he only just stopped himself from uttering an angry reply - how could he not help? His father was weak, and all of his energy was consumed just from looking into the skys. Perhaps he was waiting for the inevitable?

After a moments deliberation, his hooves led him silently to the bulky roan stallions side, sorrow hidden a little by dark brown eyes, and touched his nose to the older horses shoulder. "I will stay and fight beside you, if that is what your wish. But my place is no longer here," I cannot push myself to watch your struggle, he added silently, swallowing the weight of his words carefully, trying hard as he might to force his doubts away. Every young colt must find his way, and he truly could not bare to watch such a noble leader suffer his final defeat.

[aquiladorado]

The chill of winter that could suck out a creature’s last breath also brought with it the slight stirring of life. A new life, that was growing stronger and more apparent every day – one that existed inside the swollen belly of a mare, who cropped the frosted grass silently on the rocky tors of the Brindle Bull.

The land was not far from the herd’s usual location, just a tad further south to be honest, but a bothersome uneasiness as to why they had not returned to the Bobong for such a harsh winter had settled into AquilaDorado’s thoughts like a mosquito that could not be swatted away. The icy stems that were being digested and shared with the foal she carried within did not generate the most pleasant of reactions, and the creamy mare snorted softly to herself as she felt the thing squirm. Not a thing, she corrected herself. A foal... a foal of my own. Our first foal. With those simple unspoken words, AquilaDorado couldn’t help but feel a quick rush of excitement. She turned her elegant head to gaze upon the stallion of the herd, her stallion, and slowly her grinding teeth came to a stop. The joyous feelings that coursed through her veins only moments ago vanished as she took in the sight of the noble roan stallion, and it wasn’t long before she was forced to avert her eyes once more.

Such had been the pattern of the past few months.

These times were supposed to be happy ones. After settling in with Nandalie many seasons ago, AquilaDorado had finally been granted the life she had never had. Her wishes were granted even further when she found out she was carrying his child. The natural motherly instincts she had felt towards other foals throughout her life could now be put to good use, and the young mare believed nothing could ever make her as happy as that single moment had. She no less expected that Nandalie would feel the same way; but she had been wrong. With every passing day, the smoky cream mare found it harder and harder to hold onto her happiness while the only Brumby she had ever opened her heart to was slowly wasting away.

Nandalie’s noble characteristics were now only a fraction of what they were before – his coat was shaggy and tattered, his handsome features dulled beneath the years that had taken their toll on him. A limp had formed in his movement; yet another portrayal of his age and the battles he had faced. Even the magnificent herd that he managed to maintain for so long had evaporated to little more than the grey mare Corowa and AquilaDorado herself. This burdened the creamy mare with a sadness she had hoped she would never feel again.

And as every day grew harder for her stallion, the foal that she carried grew in a more positive way. The creamy was large enough to have the foal at anytime, yet she had not left the herd. Something inside of her did not feel right – her instincts seemed to soothe the feeling by not pressing the mare to leave, but she knew deep down that there was more to it than that. The worry she felt towards Nandalie never rested, and although she would never admit it, AquilaDorado feared that if she left him to have her foal she would never see him again. There was no way she would ever risk something like that. But as it turned out, the great roan was feeling the same way. He approached with his lagging pace, a veil covering his eyes as AquilaDorado attempted to study them. She knew this could not be good.

“I want you to be happy, so know that whatever should happen in the coming weeks, I want you both to listen to your hearts, and take a chance on a better future should it present itself.”

Of all the things he could have said, AquilaDorado had never expected something so completely stupid to come from Nandalie’s mouth. She raised her wide eyes to his, taking a step back in shock. Her ears slowly tilted backwards as her shock was replaced with confusion, and then outright annoyance. How dare he! Here she stood, bearing his foal, and remained standing beside him after numerous options had presented themselves in the not-so-distant past. While some of the others may have left him, she had not. And would not. And she knew he knew why.

The smoky cream mare gave a curt shake of her head, tossing her silky mane about, before turning on her hindquarters and marching off in the opposite direction. The hurt clenched her heart as if it was trying to suffocate her. He would follow her, she had no reason to look back. And if he did not, then she would eventually return to him. But for now, the creamy mare threw her increased weight forward in an attempt to leave every bad aspect of her life behind. She was headed north – instinctively, due to the familiarity of it. And that was what she needed. Familiarity of the brief happy moments she had been granted with, to bring them back to her now.

It was an obnoxious cry that startled her enough to look back at where she had left the pair of Brumbies. Disappointment sunk in when AquilaDorado realized she had not gone very far at all – the extra weight really was a downer sometimes. But even more upsetting was the figure that stood a good distance away from her family. The next moments passed in a blur. A shadow of grey, the call of a challenge, the feeling of not being able to breathe... AquilaDorado trembled, her breath coming in short gasps, until her knees gave out and she collapsed awkwardly to the ground. She lay her head flat against the cool earth, closing her eyes and shutting out the rest of the world. Her life had become a dream, a dazed state that she needed to wake up from. If not now, then perhaps she would prefer to never open her eyes again.