Returning to the Lake

[river]

She had finally reached the Lake. It had been 3 days of travelling and she was tired. The roan had come here because it was her favourite lake. The one she had grown up around and she had planned to return here one day. She finally had.

It felt so wonderful, coming down the ridge to see the broad waters of Lake Cootapatamba spread out before her. So many memories. Tossing her head happily, the roan paint broke into a choppy canter and rushed towards the lake edge. She was foolish not checking for danger or other horses, but she was to excitied at being "home".

Reaching the waters edge, the mare strode in. Cold and chilling, the icy waters rose up her legs and over her flanks. Covering over her back as she wadded deeper into the Lake. It was cold. Freezing almost. Winter was closing in after all. Nostrils flared pink, the white blotched mare swam easily back to shore. She stepped out lightly and shook the water from her coat. It was now a dark iron grey.

Lowering her muzzle, the mare drank deeply from the cool water, standing knee deep in her lake.

[tingara]

The journey to the lake had been a forlorn one at best. Tingara sighed as he neared it. This was where last winter he’d danced with Myrrina in the snow. Now she was missing and the black stallion was desperate to find her. He stopped walking and called out, listening intently for any hint of a reply. Just like that last hundred times there was nothing. He dropped his head and carried on, the summer sun shining harshly off his black coat, darkened with sweat. He noticed one of his forelegs was beginning to give him trouble, he’d be grateful to reach the lake to soak it in the icy water.

Nearing the lake, Tingara’s ears picked up the sounds of another horse. Suddenly filled with hope that it was indeed his lost mare, he raced forward, his heart pounding in his ears. As he drew closer he stopped, heart sinking with disappointment. From a distance the other horse looked like Myrrina but Tingara knew it wasn’t her. The new painted mare didn’t move like her, didn’t dance like her. Well he was here now; he might as well get a drink and ice his foreleg. Tingara made his way slowly through the scree of the bank to the water’s edge. Quietly he watched the mare play; up close she was extremely pretty. With an air of grace and kingly authority, Tingara whinnied in greeting.

[river]

River hadn't noticed the stallion's arrival. She haad been entertaining herself by blowing bubbles with her nose. She was quite content to be here. Happy to be somewhere familiar again. Even more pleased that of all places it was her beloved lake. She wondered if anyone she remembered was here. Her old herd mates. The ones she had left behind. Somehow the mare doubted it. She didn't mind though. River was finally home.

With a sharp break from her thoughts, the blue grey mare thrust her head up sharply and looked over her shoulder. Seeing a black horse so close made her swing her white rump round so she could face him. She stood neck arched and legs square, as though daring him to make a move. One nip on her blue hide and she would give him the beating of his life! River could be rather moody at times.
Though his nickered had seemed gentle enough, River was still prepared to bolt. Though she gave a very tentative answer in return. A low greeting of her own.

[tingara]

The mare was incredibly flighty; every inch of her was tense, ready to run away from him.
“Please, you don’t need to fear me,” he said quietly as he made his way to the edge of the lake. The water that enveloped his front legs was indeed as icy as he’d thought it would be, maybe more so. It may have been cold but it felt good against his injured foreleg, masking the pain and slowing the swelling. As he moved around he made sure not to give off any body language the older mare might deem threatening. Tingara was a little taken aback with the painted blue roan mare; her body language almost seemed threatening.

A small thought of ‘doesn’t she know who I am!?’ lurked at the back of the black stallion’s mind, after all he was king and other horses should respect him. Tingara gave an undignified snort at his thoughts; he’d sworn to himself that he would never think like that, ever.
“I’m looking for someone, perhaps you’ve seen her?” he quickly redirected his thoughts back to why he was here.
“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself yet, my name’s Tingara and I’m here searching for one of my mares,” he bobbed his head in greeting before looking at the scenery around the lake. Last time he’d been here the surrounding mountains had been covered in snow and he had been dancing with the most intriguing mare he’d ever met.

[Corowa]

Tingara's scent had blown northwards, carried by the winds that whispered his name. For the King of the High Country had come to Lake Coopatamba to claim his mare. Head upflung and ears straining forwards, the wise brumby mare Myrrina, did not throw a call to the winds, an answer to the great stallion himself. Melting back into the snow gums, she stood silent. A queer coloured brumby mare, alone without stallion or herd, drank from the waters of the lake. Trembling, Myrrina stood and watched, watched the noble arch of the black stallion's neck, the King of all the Cascade brumbies. For there was this other mare to be pursued, a prize that any stallion would find worth seeking.

Watching the two brumbies, her hide prickled and she was filled with the queerest of feelings. Unable to contain herself, the mare called to them, her ringing neigh full of loneliness and longing. And then she was galloping down to meet him, as swift as the winds for which she had been named. Tingara, the winds sighed and then the mare was hurtling into space as she leapt forwards, trusting in her swiftness and her nimbleness. The snow grass was soft and springy underfoot, and it did not hide the tracks a brumby might leave behind, for man and his tame horses to find. Gently, Myrrina nuzzled the stallion, nosing his shoulder and breathing deep of his scent. There was strength here in this stallion, and goodness too, he of whom the mopokes spoke and the currawongs sung.

OOC: blah, just wanted it to be done :]

[Valatone]

The spirits of snow could be felt, but not seen. The nights were felt to be longer, but not noticed. Autumn had come in the High Country, but Winter was nearing. This sadly reminded Valatone of the deep grave in her life. Sometimes the mare could sware a little, tiny foal was dancing along the ridges like Thowra himself. But with a sigh, the perlino knew that she was either finally going crazy with pain, or the snow was playing a trick on her. Valatone had seen her foal, known it was dead from the very moment she laid eyes on it. And now she hadn't seen Cobalt since Summer.

The mare hadn't purposely stumbled close to her leader's location. She had been wandering alone, just for some time alone. Valatone liked being alone with her thoughts and the cold, Autumn wind. But she heard a quiet whinny and knew he was nearby. So she gently trotted up in his area, standing a few metres away from the lake and grazing. Valatone was so muddled in her thoughts she hadn't noticed the two mares.

Ooc: It feels good to be back xD

[tingara]

Out of nowhere the very mare Tingara had come searching for bolted from the gums. Quickly he wheeled around, almost forgetting about the stranger in the water. When she finally reached him Tingara let out a sigh of relief. Feeling her soft muzzle against his own was when the fact that she was ok finally sunk in. He’d lost three mares mysteriously; he doubted whether he’d have been able to handle another.

“I’m so glad to see you again, for awhile I was very worried about you,” he whispered warmly as he gently nibbled her neck. This mare was unlike any other he’d ever met. Wise and mysterious, Myrrina always kept Tingara guessing at what she was thinking and what she was going to do. Her unique and amazing personality only made the stallion care deeper for her. Before Tingara could turn back to the stranger a familiar scent wafted on the breeze. What was Valatone doing here?

He let out a sharp call to locate her, to see if she would answer.

Ooc: Made of fail but I am alive, huzzah! xD

[Corowa]

With a sigh, Myrrina rested her head on the stallion's withers. In her bones, the mare felt their paths intertwine, like the roots of a snow gum set deep within the earth. For not even her beloved mountains would call her from his side. "I am sorry for my foolishness. I sought lonliness, for I was fearful of that which I did not know," she whispered, words filled with shame.

Restless and fitful, the mare pranced towards the deep waters of the lake, neck arched proudly, beautiful in the grey light. For Myrrina wove a dance around Tingara, much as she had done when mare and stallion had met in the depths of a winter storm. Fear and forgiveness entwined, for from it, the wise brumby mare bound herself to him. With a graceful levade, Myrrina ended her dance and returned once more to Tingara.

"I will be yours for as long as the Ramshead stand in the south, and the great Crackenback river flows," she said, dark eyes full of promise and contentment. A faint wind stirred, and with it, carried the scent of a brumby. Myrrina threw up her head and her call echoed that of the stallion beside her, for neither mare nor smell were strange to her. It seemed Tingara's lost mares were returning, borne on the winds that had scattered them like seeds. "She will come to you," she said knowingly, turning to the stallion to nip his shoulder playfully. "As I have returned, so too shall those whom you seek."

[Valatone]

Valatone looked up from her position as Tingara called to her. She let out a small nicker, just to reassure him that she was aware of his presence. He was just fallowing her stallion, what was wrong? She shook her head, creamy mane flicking around. The thought of her stillborn foal had disappeared in her mind, and she only thought of grazing for the time being.

(Sorry, writers block with a headache D8)

[tingara]

Tingara’s heart couldn’t help but swell with pride and love at Myrrina’s words. As if on cue the snow began to fall as he watched her weave her dance once again. He couldn’t help but laugh, the bush and all its magic had made this moment almost perfect. There still was the matter of Valatone and the stranger.

Something in his white mare’s answer told Tingara that she wanted to be left alone and that worried him. Ever since she had lost their foal last winter she hadn’t quite been the same. Although recently more of the old Valatone was showing through, the black stallion couldn’t help but fear a relapse. Telling himself that Valatone would be ok, his eyes turned to where the strange mare had been standing.

It was a little disappointing to see that she’d silently disappeared, as if born away on the wind. The sight of Myrrina dancing soon made him forget the stranger. Proudly the king of the brumbies began to prance like a yearling for his mare in the water. It was now his turn to dance for her. Tingara held his tail and his head high, attempting to weave the same spell she had placed on him but his dance paled in comparison.

Through the increasing snowfall he called softly to Myrrina, prancing to her through the water. When he was close enough he gently nuzzled her nose, drinking in her scent and positively tingling at being so close to her.