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Post by fox on Nov 10, 2011 1:29:57 GMT
Zila
Delicate black hooves traveled through the mountain, the flowering edges, nooks and crannies. The lake nestled there was lovely, the sun glinting off the surface, and reflecting into her chocolate brown eyes. Long lashes shielded her eyes, ever so slightly, from the sun rays. Her strawberry roaned pelt stood out among the flowers and carpet of emerald grass. She tilted her elegant head, and looked around, seeing no one, proceeded down towards the lake. It was a different feeling in this land, this part of Australian outback that she had not been to before. The fauna was beautiful and flourishing, the many brumbies she had seen were unique, and once, she had seen even a silver palomino.
But nothing could tear her from the remembrance of he whom she had loved. Love. The word was foreign to the enchanting mare now, something she could no longer define. Zila had run off with him, been his lover, well, in a way at least. As much that a filly could be, more like highly affectionate friends. Then what had happened? He was torn from her, a dagger dragged roughly through her delicate heart. How could happiness be removed so easily, so quickly, and leave scars that wouldn't leave, that only stayed, and sealed up her heart like rock. She stepped onto the small slope that ended just at the foot of the mountain, her heart beating from her thoughts, her pondering disturbing her.
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Post by Li<3 on Nov 10, 2011 3:12:54 GMT
The young mares beauty did not go unnoticed. The roan stallion had been standing on an outcropping of rock above the lake all day, waiting for a pretty mare, and she just happened to be his cup of tea. Sure she didn't have that sought after creme coloring, but that just meant to him that less stallions would be interested in her. Pallarang snorted and smiled at his good fortune. He quickly surveyed the area just below the ground He turned and jumped up the slope a ways before turning back and looked down at the lake and the mare.
With a deep breath he went cantering down the slope, trying to make a grandiose entrance. As he reached the rocky ledge he jumped off the edge, letting out a loud whinny. Pallarang had quite the tendency to over do things. He quickly planted his legs and began running down in a jumping gallop. As he gets to the bottom of the mountain he skids to a stop near the lake only a few yards away from the mare.
The bay roan snorted and shook his mane out, walking to the waters edge and lowering his head to take a drink. He took in three long cool gulps of the water and pulled his head up again, snorting. He stood tall and regal, making sure not to look at the female, waiting to see if she would approach him and save him the trouble.
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Post by fox on Nov 11, 2011 12:47:25 GMT
Zila
She stood watching the crystal ripples of the lake, her eyes softly following the caressing movement of the surface, caused by a honeysuckle scented breeze. A loud whinny, almost shattering to her ears, exploded from behind her, and it's master came galloping at full speed towards the lake. His body was a blur, but she made out a roaned bay pelt, a thin mane and tail, who was obviously trying to look impressive. Zila tilted her head, curious about him, as he trotted down to drink from the river, and then, finished, he stood with a superfluous expression.
The question was why, of all people, he would seem to want to impress her. Of all mares, she had heard around this area they were only after the creme ones, the silver palominos, and mares would be crazy to find a stallion at all. Ah well, this was interesting anyways, even if she didn't have that much of an interest in him. Zila trotted up to him, her step graceful and at the same time, sensual. Let him decide if he wanted to attempt conversation. She lowered her dished head to the lake, and sipped quietly.
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Post by Li<3 on Nov 12, 2011 4:52:32 GMT
The stallion watched the mares movement's carefully, and to his delight, she approached him. Pallarang had never been accepted by a mare before. Probably because he had always been an ungainly colt who's legs were to thick and head to large for the rest of his body. But now he was a stallion who was filled out with fresh sinews of muscle.
The roan turned to her and nickered gently. He pawed the ground excitedly and held out his nose to her, breathing air through his nostrils gently. He flipped a strand of dark hair out of his eyes and gazed at her softly. "Good day ma'am," he said kindly. "Might I be graced with your name. I am Pallarang," he said his name with great dignity. It meant 'bow down' and he was very pleased with it.
Growing up with his mother and father had been great. They were a small herd and never needed much, but his parents had wanted great things for him, and he would never stop until he achieved his dreams and theirs. Pallarang pranced slightly in anticipation, waiting to hear the lovely mare's reply while keeping alert for other stallions lurking about with ears that were constantly swiveling.
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