What's Left

[yaruka]

The sun was just beginning to set behind the mountains, slowly bringing night to the little lake below. The golden rays of the dying sun touched the backs of a small group of horses, huddled together in the sudden coolness of the evening. The tallest, a blue roan mare, raised her head to watch the beautiful sight, ears flickering attentively as she kept watch on the little band. The others slept or rest, waiting their turn to keep watch. It had been a couple weeks since they’d been without their stallion or the other half of their herd. In fact, it was truly a miracle that this many of them had managed to stay together. But where was Dilali? Baramay? What about Durroon and Brael? Birubi, Calca, and Mayrah were also missing. These thoughts lay heavy on the minds of the little group, even the youngest, the bright red and usually light-hearted filly Wyralla was concerned. Sighing softly, Jannali turned her head to look into the brush, soft eyes combing the darkness for any sign of threat. Her half-sister, Kala stood next to her, her chestnut head drooping with weariness due more to stress that physical exhaustion. Wyralla lay by her feet, peaceful in her sleep at least. Boorana was also unusually subdued, her slate grey coat seemingly dulled with concern. But none were more anxious that the delicate chocolate filly with the silver mane and tail. Taworri stood next to her beautiful daughters, eyes round with sadness and concern. She worried for the other members of their herd, and their brave stallion Nevada who had somehow got separated from them as they had fled the drive. Though she knew that the entire herd had managed to get away from the brumby drive relatively early on in the run, they had still been split up in their efforts to avoid the men and their dogs. Mostly she worried about Yarran. Though not her biological son, she loved the mulberry grey as though he was her own. And he had set out the day before the drive, dancing proudly away from his birth herd to begin a life of his own. She didn’t know if he’d been caught up in the worst of the drive and she prayed that somehow he had managed to stay free and unharmed. Poor Yarran, he was all alone. At least they had this little family to keep themselves company. Though it was not her turn to keep watch Taworri still monitored each of them anxiously. She loved them all so much, and with no stallion to guard them they were more than vulnerable. Taworri had not been getting much sleep lately as she took more than her share of shifts, refusing to sleep until she absolutely could not avoid it. A sudden breeze swept across the lake and the group shuddered at the cool air it brought. But with the breeze came more then chill air, a strange scent met Taworri’s nostrils, almost answering her fears it seemed. The stiffening of Jannali’s pose told her the blue roan had smelt it also. A second later she realized that the scent belonged to a mare, alone it seemed. She relaxed a little, surely this new horse would bring no harm with her? Jannali was not so easily calmed, the roan stared at the new figure as it emerged from the shadowy brush, her pose almost hostile. Being alone had made her unusually suspicious of strangers. Her eyes were not cruel, but they were not overly welcoming either as the stranger approached.

It had been days since she’d seen other horses and Boorang was tired. Tired of never being able to fully sleep in case danger crept up on her, tired of keeping herself company, and most of all, tired of not understanding this nagging pain in her swollen abdomen. The usually spirited mare was uncharacteristically downtrodden as she came upon the little group. Perhaps they would let her stay with them for a few days? Then she could regain her strength so that she could shake off whatever was wrong with her. Stopping a few feet away she stood uncertainly, not quite sure who was the leader. She was aware that there was no stallion with them, otherwise she would have made a much more impressive entrance even in spite of her discomfort. In fact, she had a feeling that a good game of stallion baiting would have cheered her up immensely. She loved to tease the often arrogant male species and lead them on a chase through the mountains…But now was not the time. Lowering her head she demonstrated her unthreatening posture, looking to the blue roan who she decided seemed to be in charge. Jannali watched her for a few seconds and finally decided she seemed to pose no thread. Stepping away from the herd of mares she approached the strangely coloured newcomer. “Greetings,” she said, eyes sweeping across the other’s unique colouring. Blue eyes, how strange. “Greetings to you, my friend.” Answered Boorang “I wonder if I could rest with your band for a few days? I would not be any trouble and would be on my way as soon as I have recovered.” Jannali looked to the others, who nodded their consent, all fully awake now. Taworri’s soft eyes glowed with welcome and sympathy for the newcomer and gracefully she stepped over to see if she could be of any assistance. “I am Taworri,” she said sweetly, “My friend here is Jannali, and Quinja, Bindaree, Kala, Wyralla, Bindaree and my daughters Biara and Boorana are also here.” Boorang nodded to each of them, wondering what had happened to result in a fairly large group of beautiful mares being left alone. She could almost taste the sadness in the air, and with a shock noticed the somewhat haunted expression of the mares ahead of her. Clearly they had lost a lot, or at least they feared they had.


OOC: Tiggs, I lumped Quinja in with my charries, hope you don’t mind. I figure she would have stayed with Jannali as she’s pretty young still. If you want I’ll rewrite this and omit her

[Corowa]

Durroon had not been caught up in the brumby drive. When the men had come galloping up the grassy slope, the mare had been grazing quietly in a belt of scrubby snowgums. Wise to the ways of the bush, Durroon had felt her hide prickling with dread. All morning there had been the queer sound of wood striking wood, and the sound filled her with horror.

Then the men had galloped over the ridge, and trembling with fear, the mare had frantically whinnied, calling to the mob of mares and stallion grazing peacefully in the wide grassy basin. Melting back into the bush, Durroon had stood, heart thumping with fear. Further down the slope, there had been several terrified whinnies, and an angry stallion’s scream. Suddenly, the mob of horses burst into view, and unable to contain herself, the mare had given a ringing farewell.

A dog leapt from its master’s side to worry at her heels, and a man on a brown horse tried to swing her around, towards the mob of galloping brumbies. But Durroon had silenced his dog with a vicious kick and turned for the scrubbier bush. The mare heard the whistle of the rope, felt it bounce off her rump, and then she was dodging and weaving through the trees her breath sobbing in her chest. The man drove his horse for some way through the low branches, yet as she galloped nimbly over the great rough, rocks of the spur he was forced to pull up, his horse lame and soaked through with sweat.

Creeping on and on through the bush, unable to stand still for more than a moment, Durroon moved north, towards the Brindle Bull. The ghost of a silver-white stallion haunted her, vanishing into the fading grey light of night, half-seen through the mist wreathing the snowgums and candlebarks in the high reaches of the Crackenback. There had been sadness in his kind brown eyes, and Durroon had been filled with sorrow.

Northwards, northwards, the wind had whispered, and so to the north Durroon had gone. There had been murmurs of a moon filly up around the country of Lake Cootapatamba, and Durroon wondered whether it had been the timid and beautiful Taworri and her fine daughters. Durroon longed for the gentle mare’s companionship, and so it was that she followed the pull of the High Country, followed it further into the mountains, even when the first snows of winter fell.

The small mob of mares and fillies clustered together against the gusting south winds. With a sudden joyful whinny, Durroon plunged carelessly down the steep rocky slope, faster than she had ever dared. Then she was amongst them, sniffing the new mare with curious interest, ears pricked good-naturedly. There was Taworri, and her daughters, and though there was no white stallion, Durroon was glad to have found the others. “How did you come to escape?” she demanded, slyly nipping Taworri on the withers. “I thought you captured, and yet the bush told me otherwise, and your daughters here too. But tell me, what of Nevada? Was he captured, for I have heard nothing, and yet his ghost follows me still?”

OOC: Ignore the longwindedness of this post. I just wanted to set up some back story for you.

[yaruka]

OOC: It¡¦s all good please excuse my short reply, I really should be doing homework¡K.*guilty look*

A sudden joyful whinny brought the second change of the night. The little herd spun around as one and with a surge of joy and relief Taworri recognized the familiar figure of Durroon. Whinnying in welcome Taworri stepped from the little group to greet the grey mare. Boorana got there first. At the sound of Durroon¡¦s joyous call she had leapt forward to greet the older mare, bounding over to her and snuffling her curiously. ¡§Now Boorana, give Durroon some space,¡¨ said Taworri but her chocolate eyes sparkled with happiness and amusement at her daughter¡¦s antics. Boorana danced beside Durroon as the grey mare made her way into the midst of the herd, mingling with the others. The other mares gave little snorts of welcome as they greeted their old friend, another one of their number had returned. Boorang stepped back uncertainly at first, she didn¡¦t really belong here, intruding on this private moment. But the new mare was friendly enough and she soon felt her body relaxing and returned the grey¡¦s greeting.
How did you come to escape? demanded Durroon of Taworri. The delicate mare paused before answering, not quite sure how they had managed to get away from the men. It had all been such a blur, it was more luck than anything that had allowed them to escape. ¡§We ran as fast as we could, and good fortune was with us. We managed to loose the men in the snowgums. The tame horses cannot run as fast as us with men on their backs.¡¨ She answered finally.
¡§Taworri¡¦s being modest,¡¨ inserted Jannali, ¡§She was a no more than shadow and moonlight to them, a horse of no real substance that they daren¡¦t believe was real. She was more nimble and swift than any of the mens¡¦ mounts and quickly distracted them from the rest of us. Her daughters too, ran with the wind in their blood.¡¨ ¡§We are very fortunate,¡¨ said Taworri softly ¡§But I do not know what became of the others.¡¨ The sadness in her eyes that had momentarily been masked by her sudden joy at Durroon¡¦s arrival returned. ¡§I do not think them captured but we have no way of knowing for sure. The bush has not spoke at all of a grey stallion.¡¨ She sighed softly and turned to nibble her friend affectionately on the withers ¡§I am so glad you found us,¡¨ she whispered ¡§And I can only hope the others will make it back also.¡¨

OOC: wow. This is sloppy. I¡¦m sorry! ƒ¼

[Corowa]

Durroon had missed the beautiful filly, and she lowered her nose and touched it to Boorana as gently as if the filly were her own. Blowing softly through her nostrils, she rubbed those brown ears fondly. Tossing her head, Durroon lightly nipped the rump of the mare standing nearest to her. When the other mares and fillies gathered around, she returned their warm greetings. Yet she was tired, worn out with worry and sorrow, and her ears flickered anxiously when Jannali the blue roan mare stepped forwards.

“She is a filly of the moon,” Durroon replied wisely. “She is elusive as the night, inheritor of all the moon’s mystery. Men cannot capture a ghost horse, one who flits through the snowgums, nothing more than a half-seen, half-dreamt wraith.” Playfully, Durroon nudged the filly, who stood illuminated in the soft moonlight, for she sensed the sadness in her friend. When those cold winds gusted from the south, the mare looked towards the bare snowgrass ridges, spreading shadows in the darkness of the night. Stirring, she turned into the wind, listened as it told of a long dark winter ahead for the wild ones.

A flock of black cockatoos flew towards the Pilot, and the cacophony of their weird cries, echoed round and round the shallow basin of the lake. The moaning of the wind grew louder, howled through those rough granite rocks, growing to a roar as it rushed south to the Ramshead. Shivering, Durroon pressed closer to Taworri, for the hairs on her back stood on end and every nerve seemed to tingle. “We should move to lower country, down to where surely he will be waiting. To the Bogong, where the snows will not fall so heavy on the ground and the wind will not drive us to our deaths.”

OOC: No worries. Mine's a bit scrappy, but at least it's done for you.

[yaruka]

Taworri jumped at Durroon’s playful nudge, so preoccupied was she with her thoughts of their still missing companions. Abashed, she nuzzled the grey mare affectionately before following the mare’s gaze across the lake. As the night wore on the winds had picked up, and now the sudden gust of chill air set her fine hair on end, making the delicate filly shiver. She too, saw the flight of the black cockatoos, and shivering, wondered what it meant. Durroon pressed closer to her side and Taworri was glad for her closeness, the night was suddenly bitter and eerie.
“We should move to lower country, down to where surely he will be waiting. To the Bogong, where the snows will not fall so heavy on the ground and the wind will not drive us to our deaths.” said Durroon. Taworri nodded, the time had come to move to lower ground where they could survive the winter.
“Wise words,” said Jannali, her voice breaking the stillness of the evening. Biara jumped and Boorana stilled in her playful dance about the clearing. Kala nickered her consent, her little chestnut filly pressing close to her mother’s roan body this cold night. Boorrang said nothing, she had no say in the ventures of this herd. They were doing her a favour, and she would go along with them for as long as she saw fit. No doubt that each one of them knew far better where to weather the winter than she did.

OOC: your reply was totally fine, much more impressive than mine

[Corowa]

Beside her, the filly stirred restlessly, and Durroon gave the softest of nickers. Her anxiety upset Durroon, for every nerve told her to go down to lower country, quickly while the snow still fell in light drifting flakes. The mares and fillies, dark shadows in the fading light, stood silent, watching and waiting. Durroon felt responsible for the small mob of mares, and there was a deep affection between the wise old mare and beautiful moon filly. “When the storm has blown over, it will be time for us to leave for the south. I know of an old drover’s track through the upper Crackenback, and it will take us to the lower country of the Bogong.”

The wind grew stronger, bitterly cold, and the air seemed full of snow as it was spun round and round on that howling, moaning gale. Durroon’s ears twitched nervously, and when the pale streak of a filly bumped her shoulder, her skin tingled as if a flicker of electricity went through her. The darkness of the night seemed suddenly menacing, and the mare pressed closer to Taworri, for the wind told of nothing but anguish and sorrow.

OOC: Ok, this can be the last post in this thread. We’re dragging it down into the Crackenback to meet with Myrrina/Nevada. You can post first with your mares if you’d like, but I don’t mind if you want me to go instead.