Without You (Open)

[aquiladorado]

The soft green blades of newly sprung grass swayed gently with the evening breeze, only to be folded over by the weight of the hooves that passed over them. A solemn structure strode silently across the valley, his valley, to a line of sheltering snow gums in the distance. He was lost – hardly in the sense that he was unfamiliar with the land, considering he had walked it many times, but the stallion was lost inside himself. Trapped inside his head. For this reason, the small creature that trailed after him went without notice.

How had everything come to be this way? Yunkara’s thoughts were sent up to the heavens in his total hopelessness. He no longer understood the world he lived in, no longer cared for it either. How had he earned his status of King? How had he been able to prove himself as a worthier stallion than the rest, after his mate’s life was unjustly taken; leaving him with their motherless foal? How was he expected to take care of a child, when he had already failed at taking care of a mare? Not once, but twice! How could he even take care of himself now that he had lost the one thing that had changed his life for the better?

The sooty stallion abruptly halted, having reached the snow gums, and allowed the dark strands of his forelock to fall over his eyes. He stood there, motionless, until the quivering breaths of the filly could be heard behind him. She came to a stand still beside him and dropped her head to the ground. The long legs that she had yet to grow into were stiff and sore, yet she remained standing. Yunkara glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noticing the effort the foal had to stay on her feet, and snorted. The filly sighed in relief at the small signal and collapsed to the ground.

Yunkara moved to hover over the filly. She was exhausted from his never-ending excursion, and he knew that, but he would not stop. For a full day the pair had wandered the lands without a final destination in mind. The once intimidating stallion who would pass through wherever he pleased no longer knew what to do or where to go, but he knew there was no point in staying here, in a valley haunted with death and regret. It was no place for the young filly, either. She was strong for such a young specimen, of a sturdy build like her parents, and she had not complained once despite the toll the journey was obviously taking on her. She’s a fighter, Yunkara noted with a hint of admiration. But the filly was so young, and getting so weak. She would not be able to fight for long. As much as he hated to admit it, the independent stallion would have to forget his nature and seek out another herd. And soon. But with the change of leadership among the brumbies, the new King had had no luck in finding another herd in these lands. Yarraman’s Valley was in no way reserved for the King alone, but considering he was not the most charismatic of stallions, it seemed as though others had kept away from its borders. Yunkara’s sides heaved in a deep sigh, the frustration of his current tasks wearing him down.

Zahira lay bundled in a heap at the great stallion’s feet, the meaning of her name put into effect as her silver dapples cast a faint glow on her dark body to distinguish her as a living thing. Her eyes had grown heavier and heavier until she couldn’t help but close them; creamy eyelashes and all. Yunkara was always made speechless by the beauty of his daughter, yet his gaze could never linger on her for long without stirring the painful memories that were still fresh in his mind. She reminded him so much of her mother, with her quiet and reserved ways, despite the fact that the filly had taken on many of his own traits. Shaylx had given up everything to give Zahira a chance – winter was a risky season for foaling, and because she had run into complications, the inevitable outcome was that only one could survive. The worst part of it all was that there was nothing he could’ve done for her.

Yunkara’s first reaction was to hate the foal that had torn his life apart. If Shaylx’s value was to be placed beneath that of a newborn...... impossible. The foal did not deserve a life then. And so he had left the filly, in the cold of winter, beside the lifeless body of her mother. Fueled by hatred and anger, and pain that had resided in him for many years, the sooty stallion went to seek out means to release his feelings. He challenged any stallion he came across, fighting as brutal as ever, until there was no one left to defeat. He had become the King of the High Country. The achievement woke him up a bit, the physical wounds preventing him from dwelling on his mental wounds, and a wind that possessed a familiar touch guided his broken body back to the small creature. It whispered her name in his ear, caressing his dappled pelt and hers, filling them both with hope and love. Yunkara knew Shaylx was watching them, looking out for them. And so he vowed to look out for Zahira – to raise her, protect her, and never leave her again.

Now, the stallion stood like a shelter over the filly and spoke quietly to the darkening sky. “Things might not have turned out how I planned, but she’s all I’ve got now. So I’m begging you, don’t ever do anything to change that. I won’t survive having another piece of my heart taken away.”[/i] On the verge of slumber, Zahira heard her father’s words but did not stir. They were not really directed to her, nor did she understand most of the words themselves, but the intent was clear in the stallion’s plea. The filly snorted softly. She would do whatever she could for him, which at the moment was following him around like a puppy dog until her legs would walk no further and she was devoured by her hunger. And although she felt odd during the night, much more awake than she did during the day, the young Moon Filly allowed the darkness to surround her and sleep to carry her away.

A quick nudge brought the filly shakily to her feet, eyes blinking sleepily to adjust to the pale light of dawn. After the stallion’s dark eyes ran over her two or three times to make sure she was alright, the pair set off once again, without a word. In half a day’s time they would reach the southern parts of the valley, and hopefully find new life so they could leave the haunting past behind - more bones to bleach in the legendary kingdom of Yarraman.

[Corowa]

The bay mare picked her way carefully down the steep snowgrass slope. A queerly-marked yearling filly followed at her flank, but her chest and shoulder were scarred and bloodied, her hind leg horribly swollen and stiff. Every now and then, the mare and yearling filly stopped to snatch a hurried mouthful of snowgrass or to listen to the cry of the currawong. On and on, Mulga hustled the filly, terrified Bootoolgah would soon be too lame to go much further.

The old stock fence had been strung up between the trunks of two massive snowgums. The once stout posts had been half-rotted by the damp High Country winters, and the wire buckled and sagged. It had long since lost the scent of man, but it had tightened around the filly as much as any stockman’s rope would. Frantically she had fought it, until exhausted and bleeding, she had collapsed. Mulga had nickered encouragement, pawing at the loose wire until the filly had been freed.

The threat of stockmen and the smell of smoke had driven her down, away from the hut at Dead Horse Creek. Already there were signs that brumby hunts would soon begin in earnest, and once, they had glimpsed a stockman and his chestnut horse, driving a mob of cattle up through the high country. The sight had filled the mare with dread, and she knew that Bootoolgah would be a prize indeed for those rough, mountain men.

Just then, the two brumbies stopped and stood suddenly alert. Far below them, a huge dun-coloured stallion was moving purposefully southwards. For a moment, Mulga watched the stallion suspiciously, feeling Bootoolgah standing, trembling at her side. Then she turned and pushed on upwards, aware of how exposed they were on this bare shoulder of ridge.

Further up, snowgums grew, and Mulga backed up into a clump of thick timber, telling Bootoolgah to come. The sharp smell of eucalyptus and ti tree rose around them, and the mare felt the sweat break out behind her ears. Presently, Bootoolgah stirred, and Mulga swung around sharply, her neck snaking, and teeth bared in warning. “Hush!” she told the filly. But it was too late. Bootoolgah felt those wicked teeth graze her neck as she sent her call ringing out over the flat below.

Edit: Here is what Bootoolgah looks like i54.tinypic.com/5es6kk.png

[aquiladorado]

The sudden cry brought both the stallion and the filly out of the hypnotic state they had been traveling in. Yunkara’s sooty head shot up, ears pinned back and nostrils flaring, and he planted his feet firmly in the soft ground. Zahira pressed her trembling body into his flank, but despite her overflowing curiosity, she did not answer the call herself. After a short silence, the large stallion took up the job himself. He sent out a warning on the winds, raised up in a half-rear, and then waited.

He was growing restless, the worry coursing through his body to show itself in the tightening of his muscles. Although the call was not very menacing, seeming to come from a younger Brumby, Yunkara feared that he might have come across a herd. Although that was indeed what he was hoping to find, other stallions were unpredictable – and especially after his recent promotion to King, the sooty stallion was only counting down the days until he would be challenged again. He had no intent to allow the filly to lay eyes on such violence, but he would do what was necessary to prevent some young colt from stealing away with her.

But she is far too young! Yunkara reminded himself, halting the build up of worst case scenarios in his mind. He was in desperate need to find a mare to provide for the filly, whether he had to confront another stallion or not. His decision made, Yunkara burst forward in an elevated trot. He cast a glance at Zahira as a caution to her proceedings, and then watched her urge her long legs into a graceful jog behind him. Satisfied, the buckskin stallion surged purposefully forwards and up an incline. At the top the pair quietly came to a halt, while Yunkara raised his nose to the wind. From a clump of snowgums a good distance away, the wind brought a rogue scent mixed in with the smell eucalyptus and ti tree. Although faint, it was unmistakably there.

Taking a couple careful steps forward to block off Zahira, the large stallion questioned the snowgums with a deep whicker. He remained standing where he was, his muscles still tense but his overall posture less menacing than before. His dark ears swiveled back and forth, ready to pick up the slightest sound of movement. The young filly's ears perked up, and she tried to view the clump of trees as best as she could from behind her father. And they waited.

[Corowa]

The stallion watched and waited. With each moment, Mulga felt their covering of snowgums shrink. Surely, he could see her there. A kurrawong called suddenly, from somewhere higher up, and the mare shied sharply sideways. The sight of this menacing dun stallion filled her with dread. Yet there was this strange longing for companionship, and it compelled her forwards, even as she shook with fear.

The mare stepped from the snowgums, every muscle tensed, poised to vanish as if the wind itself. Mulga could feel her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she watched the dun stallion. Behind her, Bootoolgah stood, still and silent. In this narrow belt of bush, the filly’s mottled rump blended with the silver-white snowgum trunks so that there was but the faintest suggestion of a brumby, pale as a willy-willy of snow.

Something moved, there by the stallion’s flank, and the old mare felt a prickle of unease at the sight of that queer-coloured foal. There was some mystery here, a sense of great and terrible loss. Mulga shivered, for where was the mother of this foal, the rest of this dun stallion’s herd?