Alone but for the Snow [Open]

[Rivre]

Winter had all but claimed the high-country, and Thackory with it had wandered to the Bogong, fine bay head and roan hide stark against the white blanket of snow that had befallen the hardening ground. Nandalie's defeat had struck him like barrel to the chest and lay like a lead weight upon his gentle heart; but with every step he took he felt his memories of the old horse fade away into insignificance. Already he forgot the tone of his voice! Had it been deep or hearty? Strong or steely? How could he so easily forget - it had only been a few days!

Limbs stiff from the cold, he planted his hooves carefully in the snow, distantly aware of their numbness. His heart should have felt light after the liberation of freedom, but to Thackory - freedom meant loneliness. He was nearly three years old now, and although gaining some company would be agreeable, for this winter at least he suspected he would have to fend the high country alone. No fillies would be this high on such a wonderfully white winters morning. Brushing past the frozen wattle plant, he instead set himself against the harsh white carpet, pawing at it's surface in search of grazing, but finding none beneath it's icy clutches. Snorting despairingly into the crisp air, he moved on to the next hill, searching instead where the light seemed to fall better and the snow lie thinner. Here he was in luck! A few mouthfulls of snowgrass to nibble, not enough to sustain him, but he was hardly in a position to complain! Snatching at the slightly pressed stems, he watched the lower plains glistening for some while, content to forget for once - alone but for the snow.

After a while, his teeth began to graze the frozen soil, and thoughtful gaze instead wondered to the looming snowgums trunks, silver and leafless in their winter prime. He should at least try to appear approachable - if fillies were indeed traversing these dangerous heights and happened to spy him, they would not be happy to gaze upon such a forlorn character. Shaking out deep red mane and dispersing the flecks of snow that had half-landed on winter-thick red hide, he allowed himself also to shake thoughts of illness and regret from his mind, eyes clouding with a quiet determination as he produced a lonely colt's cry - one that shook him with it's intense longing for company.

[{ Opal }]

Welya shivered in the cold. Her coat was naturally thin, even in winter, and although it provided some protection against the biting wind it was not as fine as some other brumbies' fur. So Welya's normally placid expression was replaced with wrinkled eyes and mouth, a grimace of sorts that was not very appealing to the eye. She hated winter, quite frankly- her name meant summer, not winter, after all. It was the hunger and the death and the tension and the cold that turned Welya the wrong way, and you couldn't really blame her. But, the mare was resilient, and patient, so she trudged onward through the snow that seemed to triple every day. Her dun hide, a rosy, rusty red hue, stood out quite blatantly against the white background of snow and pale snowgums. She knew this, and didn't like it, either, for she was a social creature and felt the need for the protection and familiarity of a band. Her last band had been broken apart by the drive, leaving Welya on her own. She knew enough of the bush to survive on her own; more than the average brumby, perhaps. But she longed for company.

And so, when the terribly lonesome call of a stallion reached her ears, she lifted her head - which was quite elegant and pretty - and returned it with a cry that bore the same notes of loneliness, though it was more graceful and musical, the prevailing characteristics of Welya's voice. She threaded her way between the frostbitten wattle and snowgum trees, black tail brushing the top of the snow, legs moving in steady, persistent rhythm to bring her toward her fellow brumby.
At long last she broke free of the frozen bush, and stepped out upon the Bogong; it was a wide expanse of white for the most part, on occasion interrupted by a boulder or half-dead plant. There Welya spotted the lonely being, a young stallion. A sorry-looking beast he was, yet Welya could see he was handsome underneath his sorrowful exterior.
The snow began to fall, quickly, silently, as Welya watched the stallion through quiet eyes. It was good luck that they had run into each other; perhaps they could find renewed strength in their company, as brief or long as it may be. Welya took a step in his direction, moving in that slow but unshakeable way of hers.

[Rivre]

OOC: Sorry it's short - lacking in muse...

It did not take long for the high-country to answer his prayers, and a musical trill echoed across the open plains - quelling his lobes into stillness. A loud nickering whinny filled to silence in which he waited, his roaned hide growing slowly whiter as he stood - stock still and waiting for that mare, as he had depicted so from her reply, to make her promised enterance. Thackory was not picky about whom his company was to be shared with, in fact he felt lucky at all to have found any soul other than himself wandering so high up in the winter months. And when the gums final did part to reveal her fine self he felt even more obliged to be thankful, her tainted red dun hide thinner than his winter-thick pelt, he did not doubt that she must have been freezing.

For a moment there was silence as the two horses assessed each other from a distance, and then a warm nicker of welcome escaped his slightly parted lips, a snort distilling the crisp air and the snow from his whiskers as it began to fall thickly once again. Squinting to make out her blatantly obvious form, Thackory watched her careful approach and mirrored it with his own, stride eating up the ground in his eagerness to once again feel the warmth of another living creature beside of him. Hooves cutting like ice-picks through the harsh and somewhat frozen upper layer of snow, Thackory pushed his way over to the older mare, who was surprisingly pretty to be unaccompanied, touching bay nose softly to her dunned one. "Greetings o' lone mare of the Bogong - I am Thackory, son of Nandalie," he whickered, bobing his head politely, brown eyes full of a genuine warmth and friendship as he stood rather bedraggled before her.

[{ Opal }]

OOC: No problem. =3

The young stallion, a handsome chestnut roan Welya now saw, welcomed her with a hearty nicker. And then with a quick, easy stride he came to meet her, with his head and tail up and eyes dancing in his excitement. Her own enthusiasm was rallied by his, and she tossed her head in an enlivened manner, her black mane, dotted with snow, rippling like a dark ocean wave. Then the mare grew still, for now the roan stallion approached, reaching out with his head. Unafraid, she let his muzzle brush her own, though the touch sent a slight shiver down her now snow-covered back.

She gazed at him with clear dark eyes, as he introduced himself as Thackory. Son of Nandalie he said; that was a name she was unfamiliar with, yet she thought she may have heard it once. "Greetings to you, Thackory," Welya said in reply. "Please, call me Welya; for the warmth of summer I am named." She gave a humorous snort, and gazed around at the desolate whiteness. "And I must say, I am eager for summer to come." Turning back toward Thackory, she cast him a curious glance. He seemed a delightful stallion, not too flashy and over-confident like some his age. Yet, he had no mares of his own; it was indeed unfortunate, but Welya reckoned he'd have no trouble building a harem of his own.

The snow was falling rather hard, and Welya found herself blinking rapidly to rid her black lashes of the flakes. Her flanks shuddered with the cold; her pelt was becoming slick with the melted snow. She let out a long breath, akin to a sigh. "I do hate such weather; it seems to seep right into my bones," she lamented. "Perhaps it would be better underneath the trees," Welya suggested, spying a nearby copse that would provide better shelter from the elements.

[Rivre]

The mare was a good sort - Thackory sensed it as their muzzles brushed, a sort of warmth spread through him, a warmth that dictated he was far better off in company than alone and that this mare also, prefered to travel with others. Blinking furiously against the snow, his lashes almost fused together by the cold, mane and tail dripping and hide allowing rivulets of the melting white to run disjointedly down towards the snow capped ground, Thackory finally learnt her name - Weyla. It was an very fitting name, for the mare, and as she stood there shivering convulsively, Thackory's inquisitive brown eyes began to colour with worry - named for the summer she may be but built for the winter she was not. "It seems Weyla that we have been caught unawares by a winter torrent" he murmered in half-amusment, lips barely moving but the words uttered freely, calmly.

Silence hung between them for a moment; Weyla's gaze resting on him curiously as Thackory's own thoughts turned to finding shelter of some sort from the driving wind and snow, that now flung his soaking mane and tail up in a flurry of white and drops of water. It seemed his own discomfort was echoed in the dun mare however, and is was not long before she offered the idea of finding shelter herself. Nodding briskly, the winter bay colt began to push through the ice and snow once more - snorting in surprise as he realized a wall of the bleak stuff had encased him where he stood. Breaking the barrier easily he fought his way through the rising tide of white. It was harder to do so than when he had first made his way across to Weyla, and he willed the red hued dun to follow in his wake rather than try to push through herself.

Even in such pretty company, Thackory's thoughts never strayed from his task, only very rarely did he suddenly will himself to turn around and gaze at his companion, just to make sure she was not in fact a trick of the snow and storm that he had befallen. Finally, the snow gum branches frozen tips reached his sopping bay and red hide as he backed into their cover - gazing out onto the Bogong - which now seemed pointless as one could only see a few feet in front of them. It seemed Weyla had made it through and he welcomed her with a broken nicker - the cold and the wind stealing some of it's notes but allowing it to travel non-the-less. "If we stand side by side the wind will not be able to penetrate us that way at least, and perhaps I can warm you a little - for my hide is thicker," he offered, tones full of a genuine desire to help the shivering mare - even though she was in fact a few years older than his colt self - he was not one to leave a mare alone and so cold. It was as he stood waiting for her reply that Thackory thought suddenly they should be heading down. It was not wise to stay-out the storm in any case, but it was too late now, they were trapped up here until it passed and they were free to push a way through the frozen wall.

[Tiggs]

With every stride she risked breaking her legs. The ground was slippery and treacherous, and her small hooves barely found purchase on the packed ground under the freshly fallen snow. But she couldn’t stop. She had raced for miles, her little chest heaving and her flanks damp with sweat. Even the chill of a winter afternoon could not cool her as she galloped on. Her breath was labouring, and she knew at any moment now she was going to trip and that would be the end of her.

The thing she fled was not man nor his dogs, it was a stallion. A great golden beast, mottled with chocolate dapples and stark white stockings on all four legs. He would have a handsome face if were not for the ugly expression that marred it. He too was lathered, but his step never faltered. Every stride was long and steady, his stamina far surpassing that of the filly he chased. And what a filly she was! A beautiful pale red, with the most delicate white markings all over her body. Her dainty head and dipped in white, her eyes a pale blue. He just had to have her for his herd. He would not rest without such a unique specimen by his side.

But she proved elusive; at first trying to lose him between the trees and then running when she only had open ground. And to make matters worse, now the snow was started to fall heavily, filling her tracks as she went. It had been a quaint little game at first, but now Thalera was frustrated, and was about ready to thrash the little mare when he caught her. Her games were not appreciated! Couldn’t she see that he was a fine stallion, and she would do well to run with him?

Eumina had other ideas. She would run until she could no longer draw breath. Stallions filled the willowy red overo with a fear that consumed all reason. Just the mere scent of them made her tremble. She had lost her guardian, Ekala, in the chase and she just knew the stallion was gaining on her. She could practically feel his breath on the back of her neck. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with her, and the very thought of what he would do to her… Well, she just kept running, even though she knew it was a futile effort. Nothing could save her.

In reality, Thalera had lost her half a mile back, his calls of frustration were muffled by the blankets of snow. Eumina was slowing, her fine legs dragging in the building snow. There was a copse of trees up ahead. If she could only reach it, maybe she could hide, wait the stallion out. She ploughed on, using the last of her strength to stagger under the sheltering foliage. She was blind to the other brumbies sharing this space, fretting only about the stallion she still perceived to be hot on her heels. Her legs trembled, barely holding her up, and every breath was shallow and shaky. She looked utterly defeated. It was just a matter of time before he found her. She couldn’t hide forever.

[{ Opal }]

Thackory nodded in quick agreement, and turned to begin the trek toward the trees. Welya realized as he did that the snow had built up rather quickly around them; they were smart to find shelter, before the freezing snow encased the two of them! Thackory turned out to be just as strong as he looked, and it was a good thing, for without him clearing the way the smaller mare might have struggled mightily. But with the burly stallion’s help they made it to the shelter of the trees in good time. Welya slipped underneath the frozen boughs, and was relieved to find that the snow was not as thick as outside. She gave her hide a great shake, which upset some of the snow from her back. A cold wind had begun, and whistled through the branches; it gave Welya an unpleasant chill, but she was grateful for the greater protection of the snowgums. It would surely be much colder out on the Bogong.

Welya turned toward the stallion, a thankful expression growing upon her face. ”If we stand side by side the wind will not be able to penetrate us that way at least,” Thackory offered. Welya’s eyes shone warmly. “You are a true gentleman, Thackory,” she proclaimed, as she came up to his side. Indeed, it was less windy there, and Welya happily predicted that they would have no trouble waiting out the storm in such a fashion. Being well-acquainted with the weather and rather bush-wise, Welya figured the storm would be over before morning. She had seen the clouds and felt the wind, and made her judgment from these things. Glancing sideways at the young stallion, Welya caught a glimmer of doubt upon his face. Seeing this, she said, “Don’t worry about the storm; we’ll make it through alright.” Welya actually knew there was a chance their stay could be prolonged, but like a wise mare she knew that it would do no good saying this. And from the confident tone of her voice you never would have guessed otherwise.

All of a sudden the sound of heavy breathing and steps clumsy with exhaustion filled their little protected hollow. Welya’s head jerked up, her ears pricking with caution. What with the thick falling snow, she had been unable to pick up on the newcomer before it was too late. But Welya soon realized that there was no need to fear, for the stranger was but a fatigued young mare. Welya’s mothering instincts soon kicked in, and she quick-stepped over to the poor, frightened creature. ”Calm down now, dear, you’re safe.” Welya reasurred her, while quickly inspecting her sweated dun hide for injuries. She was healthy enough, though had run near to her limit, and was terrified something fierce. ”You just rest there a minute, and when you’ve caught her breath tell me what you were running from,” Welya instructed the filly. She was a beautiful young mare, with striking white markings and ghostly blue eyes; a prize to be fought over, for sure.

[Rivre]

Thackory's bay ears flickered at the dun mare's reply, nickering softly as she came closer and the whisking wind was forced from between them - instead a dull heat beginning to build in the small space between hides. "In my previous herd we used to huddle around the younger horses to keep them warm sometimes when the winter got rough," he chuckled softly, eyes glazing as the memories swept easily through him, disjointed but somehow more real now that the snow encased his vision, "In fact, it was me and my siblings mostly... What of your herd?" He was interested to know why such a mare would be alone this high up - and at this time of year, but again strong lobes pricked, flickered as a sound was caught on the howling gale; hoof beats, drawn from the snow and suddenly new life filled their little abode.

Head bobbing in surprise, Thackory watched in shocked silence as Weyla made her way towards the strikingly pretty young mare, snuffing her as a mother would her foal. Recovering a little from his shock, he instead added his own comforting nicker to that of the older mare's queries. But he doubted the youngster would reply - she looked too worn, too timid. Moving easily to the splashed filly's other side, he moved to press his own roaned hide against her paler one and then hesitated as memories of his own sisters clouded his thoughts and Weyla offered the sweet little brumby the oppotunity to explain what it was she was fleeing.

OOC: Sorry it's short :/ I have no Thack muse to reply with xD Never seen him in this sort of situation before, so I was a little nervous in case I did something un-thack-like xDD

[Tiggs]

There was a great flinch from the filly when her world of terror was amplified by close voices and warm flanks. The voice of the mare was a sudden and absolute relief, and her body flooded with the thought that she might now be safe! She submitted gladly to the inspection, touching her dainty pink muzzle to the older mare’s chest. It was as if Ekala were here with her, and all her troubles would soon fade away.

Her relief was not to last and soon there was a deeper voice, a terrifying looming figure, and then she was trapped! Her breath caught and she pushed as close to the mare on her left as she could, putting every available inch between her and the frightening stallion that had so craftily snuck up on her. She could run no more. She would never escape. Her shivering increased threefold and her eyes rolled wide, whites all around. Her heart caught in her chest, and it was all she could do not to close her eyes and hope it would all go away.

In actual fact, that sounded like a plan of action worth taking. The overo filly buried her face under the neck of the grulla mare, her ragged breaths being her only sound. She closed her eyes so tightly, and stood so very still in the vain hope that the stallion would just walk on by. Lose interest in her maybe. She gave another shiver of horror when she thought of what might happen when the golden stallion caught up. Would he and the chocolate stallion fight? Would they conspire to keep her trapped?

She made the barest of sounds, a piteous whimper that she quickly bit down on. She just had to hide. Had to escape. Had to get away from this nightmare. Her legs refused to answer her. She was stuck. She was trapped. She would never escape.

[{ Opal }]

The fearful filly's first reaction was to tremble in fright, but Welya's consolation seemed to be having an affect, and the poor creature's nerves began to settle. But just as soon as her terror had in part abated, it was flared up again, coincidentally just as Thackory arrived on the scene. From the filly's horrified look, which was aimed directly at the young stallion, Welya gathered that she had some sort of unusual dread of stallions, or had at least been fleeing one. "Thackory, will you be a dear and step back a moment, please? Thank you." Her tone was calm but authoritative, her crisp words not unlike the ones a brumby's beloved dam might have spoken. Her directions delivered, Welya trusted them to be seen to and presently returned her attention to the filly, who was still too scared out of her wits to think straight.

Welya made the tactical decision to speak no further, and remain a simple, quiet comfort to the filly; whom had already pressed against her as a foal would to her mother. And Welya would be content to play that role for the time being; they would keep each other warm, and listen to the snow a-falling, and the filly would no doubt come around and her flight instincts settle. Welya's manner exuded utter calm, and it would be quite difficult for this to not sink into the filly. This Welya knew, and so she stood in a solid stance, her eye relaxed and tail swishing in a very nonchalant way.