Like Father like Son Open

[yaruka]

In the beautiful, yet oddly deserted Yarrraman’s Valley grazed a small group of colts, two closer together and one farther off but somehow still connected to the group. The sheltered valley was the perfect place for wintering, a prize usually claimed by the current king of the High Country. Yet now it was empty save for these young colts. The black and grey, the two closest to each other, had come back to this place of their colthood, figuring it would be the best area to search for the rest of their scattered herd. But no one had came. Not even after the leaves fell from the trees and the wind swept through the mountains, brining the fears and trials of winter with it. The three colts had been unceremoniously shoved into bachelor life. The two colts were amazed that no other strong stallion had arrived to take over the valley, even if it wasn’t their father and respected king Tingara. No, the only part of Tingara that remained in Yarraman’s Valley was in the figure of Biangri, his son, a spitting image of the great king and in Baree’s noble and gentlemanly demeanour which recalled that of the King’s.
The colt who grazed a little ways off was not related to the other two, either by blood or by herd dynamics. He was Yarran, first born son of Nevada, arch nemesis of the other colts’ father. But in their common burden the three had managed to coexist, forming a sort of bachelor band to weather out the winter together. For there was definitely protection in numbers, none of them could deny that.
Yarran, like Biangri, was also taking on many of the characteristics of his father. His red dun coat had paled to a peachy white, though his mane and tail were still chestnut. He had the solid figure of his sire, though a dishier face than Nevada, courteousy of his dam, Brael. His legs too, were more slender than Nevada’s, though his hindquarters were just as rounded and looked to be equal in strength when he matured. His shoulder and neck were his father’s, as were his strong, neat hooves. As evidenced by his semi-isolation, Yarran was not quite yet comfortable with his position in the group, he was well aware that he was outnumbered. Still, he was quite certain he had nothing to fear from the other colts, at least not immediately. For the winter he would focus on getting strong, then he would start anew and begin to gather his own herd.
OOC: again, sloppy. sorry ;(

[Tiggs]

OOC: Sorry boys to inflict her on you but...

The valley was covered in patchy snow, dirtied and stale from a few frozen days without fresh snowfall. Fira, as per usual, was annoyed. The was a second stallion to disappear on her. She should of expected it from Tingara really, the blockhead didn’t have two brain cells to knock together to keep from getting caught. She had successfully evaded the men, leading her caramel-bay daughter free of the crush and to safety.

So far winter had been uneventful and on the cusp of its end, she and her yearling filly were in fair health. Currently she was moving to fresh grazing and with the absence of Tingara, she had come into his herd’s old haunt to take advantage of the sheltered grazing. While the wind might whistle above the valley’s ridges, the basin was relatively calm. A soft breeze with a hint of spring brought the scent of male brumbies to her nostrils. No mares. A bachelor herd? Some of the scent’s components were familiar, perhaps she would recognise one of them.

With her wild-bay yearling following, Fira led the way into the valley. She soon spotted the three culprits. One black and two greying chestnuts. The first she recognised instantly as one of Tingara’s sons. The pinker grey was an unrelated colt that had joined Tingara’s herd, but was regrettably dumb like his mentor. Pity, he might have turned out to be a decent colt without that sappy nature Tingara employed. The third was unknown to her and her ears flickered in his direction. He was quite striking with a pale body and chestnut mane and tail. Still, he was a year too young to be of any real use so rather than bother greeting him she dropped her head to graze.

Not one of them posed a threat to the chestnut mare, but she kept one eye on them anyway. They could get mischievous and she had her filly to take care of. They might get funny ideas about playing with her, and Fira was having none of that. No daughter of hers was mixing with those types. It was regrettable that the pretty young thing shared blood with the black King, but Fira maintained that she had inherited all her own best features and what scarce good points Tingara did have to offer, primarily his built and thankfully not his dull black colour.

[yaruka]

OOC: haha no problem, they need some excitement anyways and ouch! Baree’s one of my favourite characters!! Lol, I’d expect it from Fira though….

BIC:
A strange scent reached Baree’s nostrils and throwing his, now mostly white, head up he turned to look with wide eyes at the approach of a chestnut mare and a bay yearling. Scenting the air he realized with a start that he knew the mare, well not knew really but had certainly encountered her before. One of Tingara’s mares at one point, Fira he thought her name was. The mare sauntered into the clearing, not bothering to introduce herself, and dropped her head to graze. Baree snorted softly, typical Fira if he remembered correctly. Normally his good manners would have led him to go over and introduce himself but the mare’s attitude clearly said that she wouldn’t appreciate his show of gentlemanly behaviour. Baree decided to ignore her as she had them, though he did wish he could go over to introduce himself to the little filly, she was very pretty. He valued his own head too much to dare try it though.

Biangri too had raised his head and was gazing with his ears pricked forward at the two newcomers. Younger, and a lot less sensible than Baree, he immediately whinnied excitedly too the younger filly. Tail flagged high over his back, he had inherited that from his part-Arabian father, he pranced excitedly over to the filly, completely ignoring her mother. Stopping a few feet from the bay he extended his elegant muzzle to her, trembling all over and repressing a squeal of excitement with difficulty.

Yarran had noticed the mares’ approach a millisecond before the other colts, he was after all closer to them then they were. He raised his head and nodded politely to each of them then returned to grazing, picking up on the mare’s arrogant vibes. He felt his skin prickle as the mare’s critical gaze slid over his form but continued to ignore her. Like Baree, he would have liked to introduce himself but was choosing to avoid conflict. Just then Biangri’s excited whinny ran out and Yarran groaned internally. Typical two year old. He turned to watch anxiously as the flashy black colt made his way over to the chestnut’s young daughter.

[Tiggs]

Fira lifted her head as the black son of Tingara approached. Her nostrils flared angrily, and the insides began to redden as her blood heated. Fira was a temperamental mare, and quick to rage. The approach of a mere colt who she thought worthless was more than enough to set her off. She stamped her hoof in warning and when the little black did not back off, she stepped around her daughter and squealed.

Her head snaked out and she aimed a nip at the colt’s rump. “Keep your sorry little carcass away from my daughter. If you so much as look at her again, I’ll show you just how that King’s blood in your veins can decorate the ground I trample you into.” A little more graphic than usual, but she hoped it going the point across. She snapped her teeth again, lashing out at the colt.

At least, she thought, the other two had sense enough to try it. They went up a little in her estimation, and the polite yet aloof manner of the interesting-coloured grey put him on neutral ground. She mused again it was a pity he was young; he might make a worthy stallion if he had the years of experience.

The mare warned the black again, and took her filly away, closer to the interesting grey. She could at least amuse herself while she was surrounded by impressionable youths. Trying to be a little more personable – it was difficult, and did not exactly work – she sidled up to the young grey and greeted him with a nod. “Tell me your name, colt.”

[yaruka]

Poor Biangri was pretty near struck dumb by the mare's elaborate threats. His flagged tail seemed to wilt for a second, but soon raised again with the brash confidence of youth. She didn't mean it. Besides, he wasn't interested in the chestnut mare. He wanted to atrract the attention of the pretty filly. So, deciding to take another approach, he contented himself with prancing showly on the spot, tossing his fine black head so that his silky forelock alternately covered and then revealed his large star. He nickered once again, this time more quietly in the hopes that only the filly, who was a litltle ways behind the chestnut, would hear him.
Baree wasn't surprised at Fira's reaction. He'd expected as much. He did hope that Biangri would have more sense than to try again, but was soon disappointed. Sighing, he figured it that it wasn't really his place to intervene unless it got really serious. The black colt would have to grow up sometime, sooner rather than later with his abrupt thrust into bachelorhood after the division of Tingara's herd during the drive. Fira's approach of Yarran caught his attention, and he barely surpessed a snort of laughter at her ill disguised attempt at sidling up to his side. He shook his head with amusement, “Tell me your name, colt.” Really. Did she think that Yarran was that gullible? He sure hoped he the colt wasn't, for his own sake.

Yarran was rather taken aback by Fira's abrupt switch from bloodthirsty protective mother to suave stranger. Raising his head he glanced at her in shock before remembering his manners "Uh, I am Yarran." he somewhat stammered before recovering himself "Named for the lightning that strikes the earth during the storms. May I ask of you your own and that of your lovely daughter?" The mulberry grey barely allowed his eyes a glance in the caramel bay's direction, he didn't want Fira to take out her threat on him.

[Tiggs]

“Lightening, eh? Fascinating. My name is Fira, and my daughter is Alinta.” She couldn’t have hid her lack of enthusiasm if she tried any harder. “Look, Yarran, I’m in a spot of bother.” She glanced over to the black colt who was not-so-subtly staring at her yearling daughter. “The young Prince over there is bothering my daughter. You look like a fine young stallion, won’t you deter the little… nuisance?” It made her feel sick on the inside, but she made her best attempt to flatter him. It was really quite a strain to keep her ears forward like this.

She tossed her head, shooting a glare at the black colt. She shifted in front of her daughter to block his vision. What did he really think he could accomplish? At least the other colt had enough sense to keep away. “You’ll be a doing me a favour if you just put him in his place.” She added, resisting the urge to storm over there and beat the colt down herself.

[Ehetere]

Nepelle trotted briskly up Yarraman's Valley, his tail flying out behind him like flames, tossing his mane. Lit up in the sunlight he was magnificent, and looking for another mare to perhaps add to his meager herd of one. Not that his only mare was anything but magnificent herself, but for a 5 year old stallion, having only one mare was just a bit... well odd. Kurrin was well hidden up on the ridge above the valley, where Nepelle had first scented the mare, a filly and some colts. Now that he rounded a bend, he could see them all clearly. There were three colts, one black one, one grey and a strangely coloured peachy one. None of them looked over two years old, so Nepelle did not see them as major threats. There was a rather handsome chestnut mare grazing somewhere near them, and she had quite a pretty filly at foot. The chestnut mare had his curiosity aroused, so he lifted his tail further and arched his neck, making his mane dance as he trotted slowly towards her.

Once he was significantly near enough, he reared high on his hind legs, pulling his knees up past his chin, and trumpeted his glory to the sky. Oh how glorious the sun felt on his coat! It was wonderful to be alive and have such a lovely filly as Kurrin; but Nepelle felt that he should fight as well. Still keeping his distance he called out to the chestnut mare, who had a rather annoyed look about her face, "Greetings lovely mare of the Fire! Is it not such a lovely day in spring? May I ask your name and that of the beautiful filly who stands beside you? Surely she is your daughter, for she shares your looks." Nepelle danced and pranced for a bit, continuing to size up the colts and hoping to intimidate them with his size and obvious experience. He wanted both the mare and the filly who the colts were admiring to come with him. Would any of them dare challenge him for them?

[yaruka]

OOC. " It was really quite a strain to keep her ears forward like this. LMAO XD

BIC: Yarran shifted uncomfortably as the mare proposed he intervene, in other words, attack the smitten Biangri. Shooting a dirty glance at the black colt, he was spared the difficulties of refusing the chestnut with the arrival of another red horse, this one a gleaming stallion. Yarran had never been so happy to see a strange stallion before. Taking the oppertunity to distance himself from Fira, he slipped over to Biangri's side and gave the younger colt a sharp nip on the shoulder. Startled, Biangri jumped and glanced at Yarran with a hurt expression on his face. The mulberry grey just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the newcomer. Baree moved quietly to stand behind them, his focus also on the chestnut stallion. It was clear the other stallion was hoping to woo Fira and her daughter away, and to Baree at least, he wasn't sure it was worth trying to stop him. They'd definatly be better off rid of Fira, and he didn't see how any of them stood a chance to win the lovely Alinta. Biangri, at two years of age, was way too young to even consider trying to win and keep a filly, and Baree didn't want to get cut up in a fight he was fairly certain he would not win. Yarran was also too sensible to cause a fuss, choosing to ignore the stallion now that he had deemed him to be a non immediate threat. Biangri wasn;t giving up just yet though, he still had his eyes glued to the little bay. Trembling, his gaze flashed between her and the stallion, surely she was too young to go with the big brute? He on the other hand....well they would be a good age for each other. Extending his nose he nickered to her again, a gentle yet inviting sound.

[Tiggs]

Fira was distracted from young Yarran with the appearance of a chestnut stallion. He reared up and showed off. Fira was a little impressed, and then the red fog descended as soon as he spoke. The idiot was prancing around with no care in the world. Well, she’d give him a care. Squealing, she simultaneously swung her rump round and landed a kick to his chest. This was all too much. First the colts sniffing after her daughter, and now a cocky stallion. This would not do at all.

The angry chestnut mare turned to her daughter and upon seeing the dark Prince sniffing at her, she stormed over and barged the colt out of the way. She reared and kicked out, warning him. With her ears pinned solidly back, she herded Alinta away from the colt and stood between her and the two males fawning over her. It did not escape her attention that neither male was more interested in her than her daughter, and that was more than a little infuriating.

“Simpering fools! Neither of you are worth mine nor my daughter’s attention. If you really want to impress, have at each other! Spill blood! Only a real stallion deserves to even speak to us.” She shrieked, eyes wild and turbulent.

[Ehetere]

Apparently the little red mare wasn’t going to be such an easy target after all. The chestnut mare squealed in sudden anger and lashed out at him with her hooves; kicking him in the chest. And it actually hurt a bit too. Wow; who knew that such a little mare could pack such a bit punch? But regardless of his slight admiration for her courage; or was it madness, Nepelle could not have any animal, be it horse or man or dog, best him, and despite this fiery mare’s determination; he was going to have her, one way or another now.

The fiery mare then turned on the black colt that had been sniffing at the filly, barging and kicking. Nepelle then began to wonder if she was truly worth his while; she certainly was rather violent. “Simpering fools! Neither of you are worth mine nor my daughter’s attention. If you really want to impress, have at each other! Spill blood! Only a real stallion deserves to even speak to us,” screeched the mare in an almost deranged voice. For a second Nepelle even considered trotting over there and spilling her blood. He was no fool! All the same, Nepelle now was angry, and turned on the colt and roared at him in rage. If the chestnut mare was not going to comply the easy way, he was simply going to assert some dominance here and make her. She was after all quite a prize, and would look good with his coat. There was no point in collecting unworthy mares; and this one at least seemed… interesting. Nepelle put his head down and pranced towards the colts. They were either going to back down now or have to fight him. Perhaps if he drove all of them off he would finally impress that fussy chestnut mare enough for her to come with him with no further physical protest, at least.