And the livin' is easy [Dooloomai]

[Ehetere]

The wind rippled through her sparse mane, teasing the soft black locks with promises of secrets and mystery. Uralla breathed deep, so that she might inhale some of the wisdom and tales of her ancestors, and share in their strength. The bay mare had been separated from her brother in the fire, and had not found sight nor fabulous hair of him since. Wandering had not seemed such fun since then, though there was no denying the pull of the unknown. Uralla was a mare of the bush, of the earth. She went where the wind took her, and she very much doubted there was a force that could stop her.

Even so, the sweet mare did long for company. She longed for the warmth, the companionship. To share the wonders of the world with another, to marvel with them. This is what Uralla wanted. She was a wanderer yes, but she was not a lone wolf. She needed someone to come home to at the end of her travels, and with Tinar gone she found a gaping hole in her life that needed filling.

Sighing, she hopped nimbly off the knoll and onto more solid ground. The Brindle Bull was one of her favourite places, save perhaps the wilds of the Ramsheads and Kosciusko itself. Untamed, unexplored, exciting. She had spent quite some time on the mountain in spring and now summer, learning its nook and crannies. She’d played a few games of avoiding grumpy looking stallions with herds, melting away into the scrub and disappearing without a trace, but mostly the Bull had been rather empty save for the occasional mob of young colts and fillies. She felt she was too old for their games now, too big, for she was no small horse.

Tall and long and rangy, the young mare was built to travel and not be marveled at herself. Her movement showed more flash than her coat did, a plain and simple bay with little to recommend herself appearance wise. She was however a fierce and loyal friend, with a sweet disposition and a loving personality. The only problem with this however would be finding a companion who saw these things behind her colour.

[byrch]

Walking up the crags of Brindle Bull, Dooloomai sighed. He had left Mayrah with Ballook down in the Bogong. Mayrah had shown him around a few times, and Ballook was still too weak to travel far. Dooloomai missed the two mares, but knew that if he didn’t try to learn the countryside, he would lose them in the first fight he got himself into. That hadn’t happened yet, thankfully, but it was bound by the fates that someday, he would have to fight off a stallion. Sure, there were the occasional colts that were really feeling the snow grass that day, and would try to steal them from him. A slight shake of his head with pinned ears sent them all scattering, though, since he was imposing to look at. And with Ballook injured, he didn’t want her to be harassed by them, pushing and shoving her around. The thought of it made his blood boil, that stallions would treat mares like that.

A gust of wind blew. Stopping, Dooloomai raised his head high in the air, inhaling the refreshing air. The Bogong was beautiful, but being up here, away from all the other horses was refreshing. When Ballook becomes better, I’ll have to bring her up here, he thought to himself. Then freezing, he caught the smell of something that completely took his mind of the other mares. Breathing more deeply to see if his first inhalation was correct, he found it was. A mare. Turning his ears forward, he listened carefully. A few clattering of hooves on rocks, and he had her position known. As he took his first step, a thought occurred, what if she was already part of a stallions her? Then a bigger fear hit him, what if he was already on his way to tear him apart for being to close to this mare. Listening for just another cautious moment, Dooloomai figured she was alone, and if there were another stallion, he’d just run away.

He started to run up the slope, his hooves making their own thunder booms, only being silenced when they were on grass, but only just. Heaving his large body up the side, it looked like a challenge, but he hadn’t just grown into it a few days before, he’d been large his whole life, and knew how to move it when needed.

Reaching the crest, breath coming in fast in deep, catching even more of her scent, which was wild smelling, even for a brumby, but it also was mellow, and blended with the many other smells. He slowed to a trot, and gave a greeting whiny to her, ears pricked, his steps light.

[Ehetere]

Her black tipped ears pricked, picking up the sound of approaching hooves. The horse clearly cared little about cloaking or hiding its presence, but she was rather surprised to find anyone else up this high. The pickings were slim for more than a horse or two and that was being generous. More than likely, some colt or stallion had caught wind of her from down below and was overly eager to see what they might have found. Nimbly as a kangaroo or rock wallaby she quietly moved away from the open ground to shelter herself in the nearby scrub, melting away like a ghost as her bay coat camouflaged her perfectly.

The creature revealed himself as he hauled his heavy body over a ledge. She watched with a curious expression, assessing him. Such a big stallion to be travelling in a place like this - he was no lithe or swift horse. His face and legs were near black, fading to a strange roan grey on his body. There were a smattering of corn spots on his rump - signs of past fights. There were feathers about his hocks. Uralla had been raised in a herd with a lean stallion at its head, she’d barely seen whiff of bulk or feather her whole life, she herself was a thin and rangy creature without an ounce of fat on her frame. This stallion looked strong, different, unusual, and at his call she emerged from her hiding place, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Uralla was a mare who liked to travel, to explore, to discover all the wonders of the world. She would likely never be truly owned by a stallion, but she was also a sociable creature who detested being separated from the company of others for extended periods of time. She replied with a call of her own, noble head thrown up as she trotted over on long legs, weaving a pattern of brown and black. She reached her dark face out to greet him, offering a friendly whicker.

“Greetings oh strange blue stallion, what possessed you to traverse the Brindle Bull today when you might be elsewhere with your mares?” she asked cheerfully, with a hint of amusement. She was but teasing, and was immensely happy to have found another horse’s company.

[byrch]

(ooc: sorry for the shorter post)

After his call, Dooloomai snorted softly, happy to stop. She was very near now, probably only a few steps away. The gusts were much stronger up here.

He looked to his left, where the mare stepped out of the brush, giving him a neigh. She moved like the wind, being fleet and graceful, almost dancing over to him. She came right up to him, reaching her nose over to exchange breaths. Quivering, Dooloomai complied, staying relatively still, watching her. She was lithe and slender, but had strong muscles. A blaze raced down her face, and on either side was a darker color. Her legs had the black of night running up them, and her mane and tail were also dark like the night sky. Dooloomai took this all in within seconds. Hearing her question, he shook his head of her strange spell. It seemed any mare could weave their magic on him.

Greetings to you, oh nimble one. I've come from afar, and have settled into the Bogong, but need to learn the country side for the two mares that await me." He was still wondering at the mares of the high country, how many didn't travel with stallions. He had been to shy to ask Ballook and Mayrah of why no stallion had traveled with them. "May I introduced myself, I am Dooloomai, named after the thunder. A foalish spunk took over him, and he raised his forefront hoof, and pawed the ground. Quieting down a bit, feeling foolish for that strange behavior, he asked her "If I may be so bold, but what is your name, and why are you up in the Brindle Bull?" He hoped she wouldn't just snort and run off, laughing at his foolish behavior from before. This day was different from others, there was something in the air that had electricity to it, and it made him feel, different. More energetic, and spunky.

[Ehetere]

Uralla would have blushed at the compliments if she could - she was unused to them. Possibly because until recently her far flashier brother had stolen the spotlight, even if he did often get mistaken for a filly. She was not an unpretty horse in build, but certainly nothing remarkable, so she was very much flattered by the stallion’s praise.

”And I Uralla, for the running stream,” she replied with a polite bob of the head. Dooloomai, it was a handsome name. Certainly fitting too, considering the noise he’d made getting up here. She wasn’t sure she liked that - being able to move swift and silent had always been her goal, but she supposed that stallions had little need for it, unless they were hunted like Silvers. Besides, the blue roan could not help how he was built - he looked strong and vital, not lithe like she.

The young mare dipped her head and giggled a little when he pawed at the ground like a colt. Surely he was much older than some two year old, but his antics did remind her of her lost brother. With the memory came a feeling of nostalgia and comfort. She hated to think of spending her days with any stallion who was too serious or grouchy. “I come to the Bull to explore, to further my knowledge of the country. Admittedly, my travels have been lonely since the bush fire, my shoulder friend and I were seperated.” There was a melancholy tone to her voice, but she quickly shook it off. She was confident Tinar had escaped, and perhaps one day they would be reunited. Until then, there was little point dragging herself backwards and forwards all over the High Country unless it was for the sheer fun of it.

“What has put you in such high spirits?” she asked, returning to her usual cheery demeanor. He seemed abashed by his playful behaviour, but his energy was infectious, and she wondered whether she was too old to join in bucking and cavorting all over the top of the rocky mountain.

[byrch]

Her name, Uralla, for the running stream. Her color didn't match, but everything about her seemed to fit her name. She was fleet, quick of hoof, and nimble, like water over rocks.

Her giggling at his coltish antics somehow put Dooloomai at ease. Most stallions would have snorted at being laughed at, but Dooloomai seemed encouraged by it.

Clouds were coming, just covering up the sun. As she asked her question, he looked up at the sky, thinking back to the two mares he left in the Bogong. Mayrah was proving her worth in hiding, seeming to be a ghost in plain day. Even Dooloomai had a chore of finding their hiding places. It was getting late, and he'd have to trek down the ridge before dark.

Bringing his attention back to the present, he focused once more on Uralla. She seemed, different from his other two mares, but he just couldn't place it. Perhaps it was her color, just the plainness of it, that attracted Dooloomai. Or her fun personality, which seemed to emanate from her, almost like a waterfall.

The sadness in her voice, talking of why she travelled, made Dooloomai step a little closer to her. He wore a worried expression at her melancholy, she didn't look like she deserved to be sad. He slowly put his head by hers, almost touching, but not crossing an unknown boundary if she had one.

Playfully snorting at her question, he tossed his head, "Well, I don't really know." He looked around, at the vastness of the Kosiusko area. So many places to be. But only one was calling to him, the place where Mayrah and Ballook hid. But he was torn, to stay with this new mare, or go back to the others. He could stay here, for a little while. He would ask if she wanted to come, but a little later.

"It just seemed to be a good day for a little exploration. I need to learn much about the high country, but I am slowly getting there." Traveling less and less with each day, he thought to himself. "This is the farthest I've been from the Bogong." He told her, somehow thinking she wouldn't be impressed if she were well travelled.

[Ehetere]

The bay mare noticed the roan stallion’s attention was diverted, and she quickly flicked her black tipped ears about. Dooloomai’s arrival had distracted her, however foolish it may be, from the weather that frequently plagued the mountains. The wind had picked up, and with it brought the promise of rain. There might be a great storm in it, or perhaps just a miserable downpour. Either way, the unsheltered mountain top was no place she wished to be.

The stallion too seemed elsewhere, and Uralla realized he must be concerned for his mares, hidden away elsewhere. No stallion would wish to leave them alone with the promise of night and a wild storm. He would have to return to them, and soon. She felt rather sad, she would have quite liked to dance up here with him until the last rays of twilight faded from the sky and the moon and stars claimed their kingdom.

She stilled as he moved closer, barely daring to breathe. She wondered in a brief moment of foolishness whether he intended to herd her, that his playful demeanor was simply impatience and that he was nothing more than a cruel leader come to collect her. All the logic in the world would suggest otherwise however, and the feeling quickly passed as he moved with deliberate slowness, as if asking permission. She gently blew on his cheek as it came to rest beside hers, grateful for the company and safety that his presence brought. It was like his solid form could protect her from any howling wind and driving rain, that no force could blow his rooted hooves from the earth, or hers if she stood by him.

Uralla looked at the blue roan curiously, still not fully understanding that it was she that was unusually well travelled, and not he who had not seen much of the world. It was a strange thing for most brumbies to travel as far as she had, certainly in her three short years. But the life of travel was the only one that the bay filly had known from birth, and so Dooloomai’s admission seemed rather odd indeed. “Did your mother not take you exploring as a foal?” she asked, still ignoring the fading light and swirling wind. She did not yet want to leave.

[byrch]

Dooloomai scented the air. Rain was on its way; he would need to be going very soon. The descent would already be dangerous when dry; it could be perilous when wet and slippery.

Driving these thoughts away, he paid his full attention on Uralla. Her voice was soothing, water over rocks soothing. Feeling encouraged by her blow to his cheek, he blew on her cheek before answering, “I am not from the high country. I was born in a herd south of here, where mares were scarce and competition fierce. Mares were also very picky about their stallions.” Turning his head toward his rump, he gestured to his scars. His voice lost the happiness that was there earlier, “I got those from a high ranking stallion.” He didn’t tell the rest, he was chased for miles, blood rushing from his hindquarters. Staying away from other horses, and any that saw him, spoke cruel words to him.

He brought his head forward, but avoided eye contact with the bay mare, “My mother was a kind mare, though. She never strayed far from my father, lest some other stallion came to steal her. It was only when he kicked me out, that I started to travel.”

Mustering up some courage, he lifted his head to look her full in the eye. “I only recently came to this plentiful place of grass and mares. It was from some bachelor herd, far away who heard a tale of this place.”

He looked out to the ridge, at the sky. The wind was picking up its ferocity. Mayrah and Ballook would be wondering where he was. His heart torn, yearning to stay and go at the same time. He wanted Uralla to come with him, but thinking of her earlier question, she didn’t seem to want a domestic life of raising foals and grazing beside him. Shaking his head, he decided he would just ask, a little later. If she said no, at least he had that extra time with her.

Looking back at her, he asked “So, you have traveled throughout the high country?” He moved to her shoulder, and lightly began grooming.