Arrival of the King [open/mares/fillies]

[Rivre]

So much had happened since the spring that is was hard for Balaroo to see himself in the same light as before. His body was doused in pale silver scars, finer than the grain of his coat but sometimes still visible to the keen eye, and golden hide seemed more toned after the numerous confrontations. And still, to him, he did not feel any different than usual - he felt like it was only the title he had won; but he carried his head with pride, creamy wisps and mousy mane drifting as he made his way through the country, his country - towards the cascade valley. He didn't really intend on staying there all too often, but summer seemed like the appropriate time to gorge on the lush grass and grow strong again, after all he knew that mares where the next thing on his list. It was more the lack of company that bothered the young stallion than the fact that he was four and in the company of only himself... And King of the high Country.

His pace was brisk, trotting through the gums and breaking into a canter whenever there was a break in the trees, but now he was traveling down the much walked path into the valley itself, consumed by candlebarks and waxy leaves of the snowgums. As he gazed over the path's edge Balaroo was glad not to see any sign of the remnants of the fire's ash - it had all but gone from the bush now, only the burnt out tress further into the thicket would allow one to make assumptions. As he turned into the Valley he savored the feeling of soft springy snowgrass under tender hooves, gazing around for signs of other stallions he might have to scare off before he could graze in peace, but he was in luck. Cantering out into the glade he tossed his fine head and propped to a halt, rising in a half rear of salute to all the other kings that had inhabited the great Yarraman's valley, throwing his powerful challeneg to ring around the high country and be whispered through the trees - "Is is I! Balaroo! It is the arrival of the King!"

[Corowa]

The grey brumby mare moved quickly through the rough scrub. The High Country had sprung to life after the fire, yet here and there were the blackened trunks of snowgums that had been too badly burnt to recover. Noorinbee shook with fear when she passed them, remembering only choking smoke and roaring flames.

Barely pausing to stop and graze, Noorinbee headed in a southerly direction. She had heard whispers of a fine dun-coloured stallion having made his bimble in the lower country of Yarraman’s Valley. It was said he was King of all the Cascade brumbies, a stallion splendid as the sun itself.

The trees thinned to a few low snowgums. Noorinbee stopped still in her tracks and looked out over the open flat. It was at that same moment that Balaroo’s cry rang out over the mountains. The mare sprang forwards, bursting out suddenly from the overhanging branches. There, his golden coat burning in the sunlight, stood the stallion she had run with so long ago.

Seeing him, Noorinbee began to gallop. “Balaroo!” she called, filled with joy at the sight of his dear, familiar face.

OOC: Sorry Rivre. We can pretend they ran together briefly as two-year-olds if you want. Any younger and it isn't possible as Noorinbee was captured before that.

[Rivre]

ooc: I made Bally younger Corowa so he never had his previous herd So I'll have to reply as if they ran together as foals or something? Oh and to others who want to join, feel free to post you'll just be added to the end of the posting order.

Reply coming - have a driving lesson :L

[Tiggs]

She had been waiting for him. Struth, she’d been waiting all winter. She didn’t know what his name would be. She didn’t know what he’d even look like, but when she heard that voice echo across the valley, she knew it was him. It was the King.

Calca lifted her head, flaxen mane falling about her neck in a cascade of hair. Her heart felt like it was about the burst! She’d been waiting so long, she had almost given up hope! She had been beginning to think every stallion in the High Country had been swallowed by the fire. Composing herself, she arched her neck and raised her tail. It wouldn’t do for her new King’s first impression of her to be a lazy mare with no grace.

Taking a deep breath, she answered him with a call of her own. “I am here. I am yours,” it said. She was glad that her nerves did not betray her. Her call had been strong and clear. Now she just had to meet him. Picking up her hooves, the moonfilly dun took off in a controlled canter up the valley towards her new King, barely holding herself back from flying up the grassy meadow.

Two brumbies soon came into sight; a boring grey mare and—

Sweet ghost of Thowra... a sunstallion.

Calca stopped in her tracks, one hoof still raised. All her breath left her and all she could do was stare in awe. Her mother had told her of the ancient race of sunstallions and she had hung off of every word. They were the protectors and keepers of the moonfillies in their homeland. And here stood a brumby of legend in the King’s valley. This was Balaroo? Her King? Her stallion?

The mare could hardly contain her excitement. Her tail twitched in anticipation and she made her way toward the young virile stallion, dark honey eyes only for him. The grey mare could go suck on a wombat for all she cared. The King was here, he was magnificent, and he was hers.

She nickered sweetly to him, voice deep and full of anticipation. “Balaroo,” she breathed, feeling her nerves tingle at the simple mention of his name, “I’ve been waiting for you, your majesty.” She bowed her head, creamy forelock falling across her dark brown face. “My name is Calca, and I am destined to be yours.”

[Rivre]

He had known that his new title would attract mares, in fact it was the main reason actually, if he could beat off all other opponents his mares would be safe and content, the title only helping instill the image of strength and vitality; but he had no anticipated the almost immediate impression his call had, it seemed that the bush took a deep breath and threw every mare within earshot in his direction. He had only just dropped to all four hooves and looked around the valley for an area of shade, when a grey that seemed strikingly familiar came charging from the cover of the gums. Balaroo's ears pricked at her call and without attempting to contain his joy, whinnied a reply so eagerly that his nostrils quivered, cantering to meet the grey he had known since a two year old, nose outstretched to nuzzle the soft pale hide of his neck, "Noorinbee! How I have missed you, how much has passed between the north and south!" She was a plain but beautiful mare that had matured into a wonderful brumby, Balaroo did not doubt her sincerity either, she was truly a horse he could live in the company of.

He barely had time to draw breath before another call rang out, a mares, this one imperative and enthralling, so much so that he snorted quietly, turning fine head to peer in the direction it had come from. It took a few moments for anyone to appear and he began to feel a little on edge, as if he was waiting for the breath out; and who appeared from the bush but the most beautiful horse he had ever seen. Tail flagging and perfect chocolate dun tones rippling in the sunlight like the creamy locks flowing like a small creek. Balaroo had to blink a few times, ears pushed as far forwards as they could, neck arched and foreleg twitching as if he wanted to throw himself into a gallop. After a few moments the solitary mare began to make her way towards him and the golden stallion nickered a soft greeting, blowing quietly through his nostrils and glancing at Noorinbee with care, ears flickering as he wondered at his strong reaction. Balaroo began a proud high-stepping walk that was full of vigor and valor so that he met the mare half way, silver nose touching gentle to her velvety dark one. She introduced herself and her voice was rich and sweet like her scent. A moon filly! She was a legend in his own country, as was he.

"Calca is a beautiful name and I see mine has traveled on the breeze without hesitation," he chuckled, gazing into honey brown eyes that flickered softly with his own intense hazel one, "Destined indeed, the sun and the moon, stars of the high country, it's quite suitable when considering your beauty. You are worthy of a king." The golden stallion seemed to reign in his admiration, bringing his head up again with arched neck, nudging the grey beside him softly, "This is Noorinbee, she is an unsung moon" he offered kindly, gazing at the pale mare with some affection. It seemed his new position he leant him an unusual good will.

[Corowa]

Noorinbee struck out playfully at the stallion, showing him a clean pair of heels as she swung neatly round on her haunches. Confident there were no other mobs grazing this part of the Cascades, Noorinbee grew comfortable enough to enjoy the stallion’s attentions.

Quite suddenly, a mare called out. Noorinbee saw Balaroo go very still at the sound. There was something different in that strange call, something that sent a shock of fear through her. What was it that that the wind sighed as it curled through the leaves of the snowgums?

Balaroo seemed to hear it too, for the stallion struck off in the direction the call had come. Noorinbee hung back, staying a few feet behind, picking up on the stallion’s peculiar mood. A cold sweat had broken out over her flanks, and she had to fight the overwhelming urge to turn and bolt. Nervously, she followed Balaroo, nostrils flaring red as she walked faster, closing the distance between them.

Noorinbee threw up her head in surprise as a brown mare appeared only several yards away. She pulled up abruptly, her ears twitching back and forth, alert to the faintest sign of danger. Balaroo went eagerly forwards, careless in his excitement. Puzzled, Noorinbee watched the two brumbies, saw as the stallion stretched out a trembling nose, that there would never be any other mare but this one for Balaroo.

[Tiggs]

“I knew that when I heard you call your name, you were the one. I did not need to be told that you were the King to know you were the one,” she murmured, gently nosing his cheek. Her King had run to meet her, rushing to her call. His voice warmed her, coiling its hot tentrils around her heart and holding her tight. She nickered, revelling in his words.

They grey came forward, lurking on the edge of vision. Calca chose to ignore her, too enamoured with her newly found stallion to worry about introductions. But it seemed the closer the grey came, the cooler Balaroo’s demeanour. Calca glanced at the mare then as Balaroo turned away to nudge her, trying not to let the flash of ire show.

A simple grey was no moon, unsung or otherwise. This Noorinbee has no beautiful ancestors, no daughters of the moon nor sons of the sun. She was simply brumby. A simple, simple brumby. Picking her tail up higher, arching her neck and turning her gaze – warm now – back to Balaroo, she turned the conversation back to a more important topic.

“My beauty is that of my mother’s, and her mother’s before her. I am of the moonfilly line, just as you are of the sunstallion. While our kind used to live in secret, you are bold like the sun itself. You need no clouds to hide you! Your light and fire will be known across the High Country and I will always be beside you, as the moon and the sun share the sky, so shall we.” She nuzzled him once more, so gentle and sweet that she was sure he would not resist her now.

Calca was not usually quite such a self-indulged mare, but this was her time to shine, and no ‘unsung moon’ would steal her limelight now. Not at the moment, when she had finally found – literally – the stallion of her dreams.

[Rivre]

Balaroo watched the beautiful Calca with intense gaze, watching the ripple of her coat and seeing her resemblance of those he knew existed in the south, the leanness of her leg and apparent swiftness of hoof. Her voice was enthralling, a sweet melodious tune that caressed his flickering ears, his own creamy streaked tail picked up in a sudden pushing wind that tumbled down the right slope of the valley and swept across the glade. "Yes, the moon and the sun we shall be," he murmured quietly, nuzzling her soft silk neck in return, how sweet and dainty she was! He was curious as to how this brumby had escaped the wrath of flame, for it seemed she'd been here a while, but he restrained from bringing up the bitter topic, instead stepping back as the sunlight reappeared from behind a singular cloud, lighting golden flames in his coat, neck arched as he became aware of the brilliance of its sheen.

"Come, we shall run and romp in the sunlight so that we are only golden, silver and bright white blurs - the sun the moon and the stars!" His tone was slightly challenging, in a teasing way because of the sudden energy in his hooves he could not contain that made him side-step and prance, nostrils dilated. Kicking up his heels the great mass of stallion careened left and into a joyful canter. He could feel his hooves eating up the valley, the wind pushing locks back from his hot neck, picking up his legs higher he forced the impacts further into the springy grass, bursting into a gallop that stretched the whole of the flat. He slowed at the twinge in his shoulder and his stride faltered so that he had to resume his earlier trot, features streaked with pain that began to subside. "Fighting doesn't do ones health any good," he chuckled, assuming the two mares had followed his abrupt flight, "It's a good thing summer is here to gorge us on it's good grass and keep our coats thick and shinning, our hearts strong." It had been at least half a day since Balaroo had last eaten, and he felt the sudden pang of it in his stomach, dropping his head to begin snatching up mouthfuls of the sweet damp snowgrass, now slightly concealed by the shadows of the snowgums.

[KAREE]

Allunga sighed, wandering across the open land of the Valley. She stopped to nibble occasionally at the sweet grass, but it held little interest to the young mare as she waded her way through it. The sun was high in the sky, it's light falling on her muddy coloured hide and making her brilliant pale mane and tail shimmer. It was one fault that Allunga would always be very aware of...her muddy colour. If it wasn't for the dirty colour that laced itself across her legs and stomach, Allunga could have been a beautiful silver horse. She could have been someone worth looking for...could have been.

She chewed absently at her bottom lip, moving up a small hill. The wind blew past her, picking up the long strands of flaxen mane and sending it across her hazel eyes. Along with the wind came the sound of something else, as well as new scents. She could hear the distant hum of voices, hooves on the ground and possibly a nicker or two; her nose confirmed this as three different scents suddenly became apparent to her. The sooty palomino instantly froze, head tossed to the sky, nostrils flared as they tried to pick up more of the scents. From what she could tell there was a small herd here. A male and a couple of females. Allunga hesitated, should she go and see? Or should she just turn tail now and disappear into the snow gums? Curiosity got the better of her in that second, she knew that there was a new king, and surely he would be roaming these lands that were now his.

She moved across the top of the hill and began descending down it when a flash of silver mane made her look up. Right there, galloping and frolicking about was the most beautiful stallion she had ever seen. She held her breath, watching his mane melt into the skyline behind him and how the sun reflected off of his almost orange coloured coat. He looked magnificent. A small nicker escaped her maw right before she could hold it back and before she knew it, she was moving eagerly over to where he had now stopped; looking over in the opposite direction. Allunga paused, looking across to where he looked, she felt her heart drop in her chest at the sight. What does a beautiful stallion like him get? An even more beautiful mare. Allunga stopped fully then, her eyes darting between the two. The silver mare with the dark coat was indeed a incredibly beautiful, even more so than the grey one that stood not too far behind her. Though, Allunga knew that the grey mare was also very pretty and against herself, they would look ten times more beautiful...seeing as she was nothing more than a mud coloured horse.

ooc. hope you don't mind me dropping this lady in lol <3

[Corowa]

Noorinbee galloped after Balaroo and that jealous, brown mare. Generations of fine Thoroughbred breeding had given her speed, a floating, effortless pace that was so different from this hard galloping.

Noorinbee struggled to hold herself back, certain neither of the two brumbies possessed a speed to match her own. The longing burned in her bones, surged through her blood, consumed her so wholly, she could hardly contain it. The muscles in her hindquarters pumped like pistons, and she gained easily on the two brumbies, knowing she could have them in only a few strides.

Balaroo slowed, limping slightly. At once, Noorinbee forced herself to a stop. She wanted to keep going, but Balaroo showed no intention of going any further. Her neck and shoulders were flecked with lather, yet the mare could not stand still. Her blood was up, and Noorinbee stamped impatiently, moving off from Balaroo and the brown mare, towards the snowgums that flanked the open flat.

It was while she stood, flicking her tails at the flies, that a scent reached her quivering nostrils. Noorinbee’s ears tilted back, and curious, she swung her head around. A snort escaped her. There, only a hundred or so yards from where the little mob grazed, stood an oddly-coloured brumby mare.

Noorinbee watched her suspiciously. There were few stallions that would let their herd graze so close to that of the King’s. Where had this mare come from then? Puzzled, Noorinbee looked to Balaroo. Surely, no self-respecting stallion would miss the opportunity to add another mare to his mob