life's a happy song [open]

[dreami]

TOORIE-

The mare didn’t belong, she didn’t suit the scenery that surrounded her. Part of the stubborn pony desperately wanted to find a way home, find a way back to her comfort zone while the part of her that had made her so great at what she did had convinced her to stay and prove her strength and skill. She had a strong stubborn streak, the two legged passed it off as being a pony or something along those lines and perhaps they were right it didn’t exactly matter. The fact was when Toorie got an idea in her head she was determined to see it through, despite possible repercussions. So now as she wandered through foreign territory looking completely out of place she did so with pride, slightly dished head held high and ears perked. She was attentive, well presented and looked like she might be lost but it wasn’t throwing her off. Her frame was compact but powerful, it was evident in her muscling alone. She was toned differently than the horses who were born in the wild and had grown there, her topline was more developed and her carriage reflected her training. Her hooves were tender, not used to being bare and the holes from the nails of ripped off shoes were a dead giveaway to her past. But perhaps the most pressing and noticeable feature was her mane, it was pulled quite short and thinned, along with a tail that was thick and full but banged at her hocks. She couldn’t help her appearance and she knew it was going to give her away but the driven 14.2hh mare wasn’t about to give up and head home. Her bravery and boldness had been noted over fences while her elegance and stubborn streak presented itself in the dressage ring. She was considered a pony, originally intended for children but she had managed to terrorize one too many before she landed in capable hands Most people considered her a joke until they watched her clear fences much larger than herself and nothing had brought her more joy than bounding over fences that challenged her natural and schooled talent. Well perhaps carrots and apples beat jumping, and just thinking of them made her hungry.

The chestnut mare wasn’t used to the whole grazing situation, she grazed for a few hours when she was turned out at home but that was all. She had learned quickly about things like water, sounds and smells but she wasn’t completely confident in her own judgement yet. She knew the seasons were turning; the cool breeze was both refreshing but frightening. She didn’t know the meaning of winter and it worried her, Toorie came from a land of blankets and warm barns and hot barn mash. The little natural instinct she had told her to graze as often as she could and there was a hunger that wasn’t really satisfied lingering in her gut. Snort passed her flared nostrils, she shook her neck and her short pulled mane scattered though fell neatly back to one side. Walking through the grass she convinced herself to stop, in the open yes but she knew how to listen for strangers. Grazing carefully she enjoyed grass as much now as she ever had, her nerves were settled by the chewing and she managed to relax just a little. In her week of freedom she had experienced just a few equines, she hadn’t struck any real luck in the friend department. The truth was Toorie was never a fan of others back on the farm, she hadn’t liked it when her human paid attention to the other horses in the barn. While she found others frustrating she had managed to compose herself and maintain a few conversations. As a herd animal she felt safety in numbers but didn’t always agree with the proximity others kept, she was not used to sharing the attention and was not excited to do so though she felt it might be vital to her survival and future in the long run.

Perhaps if she found a stallion that wasn’t an incompetent idiot she would be swayed more quickly but the truth was, that at the moment she wasn’t concerned. While the seasons were in a change yes, she wasn’t expecting snow tomorrow so it gave the mare some time to consider other potentials. Standing grazing her mind still ran, looking over to one of the streams she composed herself and strode off – keeping an active driven trot while listening for anything really. Halting square at the waters edge she took a cool sip and savored the sensation and taste alike. Toorie hoped that out there somewhere there was potential for her, the promise of safety and some friendship. Stopping a few feet short of the stream she took the last few steps towards it in a tender walk, the ground was hard on her bruised feet. Drawing in a deep breath she enjoyed the taste of the cool waters, satisfying herself she backed to the grass again just a few feet off. Resting a hind she was alert as she grazed, though her mind was slightly muddled with the overwhelming situations and stress that was wrapping itself around her. The powerful little pony had made up her mind, she was staying though just not clear on the details yet. Red neck with her short mane was pulled up to scan the surroundings, light brown eyes scanned the scenery and found herself alone. An odd sight for the natives to this land, a saddle fit, show pony with the attitude and all would most likely draw some attention and perhaps a few questions as well.

occ:
first toorie post,
shes uncertain but determined - hopefully it will get better.
oh yess and open!

[Tiggs]

“Uwan! Just this once, would you listen to me?” The voice was pleading but soft and overall pleasent. The owner was clearly exasperated, and used to the feeling.

“Oh Tinar, stop being such a wet wombat. I just want to say hello!” Came the reply of a more masculine voice with the lightness of youth about it.

“Brother, you say hello to every mare and filly we catch a scent of. Have you ever thought they might want to be left in peace?” Tinar replied, voice louder now as the pair’s hoofbeats drew closer.

Uwan gave an indignant snort, “I’m just being polite. Besides, it beats running in the other direction at the first sight of trouble.”

Tinar’s reply was a grumble, and the pair stepped out of the bush and onto the open banks of the Crackenback. One of the brumbies was a lean and dainty horse, clealy feminine, with a deep chocolate brown coat. She had a slightly darker mane and tail, a rump spattered with white and a perpetually worried expression. The other was primarily white, with ginger spots scattered liberally over his rump and flanks, with roaning around his legs, shoulders and face. He was the widest of the pair and while the same height as his sibling, showed the lankiness of youth in his proportions.

It was the white and ginger colt that spotted the chestnut mare first and greeted her with an exuberant nicker. The darker sibling looked away, clearly embarrassed by her brother’s forwardness. Ignoring Tinar, Uwan trotted over to the chestnut mare, his ears perked and tail carried high. “Greetings mare,” he said, bobbing his head. She was an intriguing thing. Her short stature and barely-grown mane suggested she was young, but Uwan knew all too well not to judge a brumby by her looks. It was her scent that gave her away, as did Tinar’s.

“I am Uwan, and this is my brother, Tinar,” he said, nodding to his delicate sibling. Tinar might look for all the world like a pretty young mare, but he still carried the scent of a stallion, albeit a not very mature one. Ears saddled in indecision, Tinar bobbed his head politely but otherwise kept his distance. While he could see the attraction of the shorter, well-muscled mare, Uwan was the one who dreamt of a herd. Tinar avoided mares in the hopes that he would not provoke their stallions, one of which he sure would be around. The older brother kept an eye out, while Uwan pestered the poor mare. One of these days, he was going to get a kick for his efforts.

OOC: Whee, spots! Don't mind Uwan, he's a pest XD And sorry to be a spoilsport, but I have a lot of trouble reading size 1 font D8 I'm going to try and put in a new code soon so everyone can read posts at whatever size they like without distorting the site ^_^ But for now, could you use default to save my poor old eyes? Thanks ^_^;

[byrch]

Staring off into the distance, Narahdarn snorted. She was homesick, and wished to be back with the nightrunners. She had tried returning again and again to them, but the mean stallion had just chased her away. Deciding to travel the high country to widen her expertise in other brumbies, she now found herself by the Crackenback river, so similar to her beloved Moyungal river, yet very much different. There was no mist here to block the sun away, the trees seemed to part for the sun, worshipping it with open arms. Narahdarn hated it. Sure, she had gotten used to traveling in the day, but she hated how it glared in her eyes, gave her nose a beating, and gave her away to any horse within sight. Hiding in the day was much more complicated then hiding in the dark, she had to think about the different shades of bark of the trees, hills and many other things.

Walking in the shade of the trees, she looked out toward the river. Her amber eyes were still getting used to all this color. Noticing three horses, she melted into the brush, spying on them. Two looked to be mares, and a colt not much younger then her. Could this be a family with no stallion? Of all the horses she saw, the stallions guarded their mares with a ferocity that rivaled even the great nightrunners. One mare was small, but was built beautifully, if not just a tad to delicate for the outback. She bore a star on her forehead, and was the color of the raging sun just before the dark took over. The other mare was of darker color, like the mud during a rainstorm, with splashes of white on her rump. Narahdarn snorted to herself in disgust at the darker one. She seemed to be shy, and to quiet. The colt was mostly white with spots of red wood on him. He could have potential, when he grows a bit.

They hadn’t noticed her, but somehow, she wanted them to. The dark one gave her a strange feeling, as if something were out of place. She narrowed her eyes, watching them closely. The colt seemed friendly, speaking to the chestnut mare in just a way that just seemed to irk Narahdarn. The nightrunners would talk to their mares, but she had never been on their friendly side. Instead, all she received were kicks and pinned back ears.

Half rearing, she charged down there without thinking, her ears pinned back, but only just. She wanted to know what these brumbies were like, and with no mature stallion to steal her, she felt safe to expose herself. She watched the others reaction, and as she got closer, she shortened her stride, and pricked her ears up to seem more friendly.