AND the winds howled, [O]

[Corowa]

Boolee climbed slowly down the steep slippery slope, slithering on the ice beneath the snow so that twinkling white discs flew from beneath his hooves. His legs ached, and still the slope dropped more steeply down, far down to the hidden gully below. It seemed almost vertical; his hooves digging into the snow, for to lose a foothold here would mean to hurtle down this icy slope into the menacing darkness of the gully.

Gradually the slope grew less steep, for suddenly there was snowgrass beneath the snow, and the wind did not tear at the uppermost snowgums, nor rush through the shallow clefts of rock. With a soft nicker, Boolee turned back towards the wisp of a filly who followed so closely. The floor of the gully was criss-crossed with narrow creeks, and in the scrubby bush, a shadowy grey mob of kangaroos slipped off into the darkness. Aside from the gentle dripping of water, as it whirled about the rocks and vanished into the shadows, all was silent.

In this deep damp gully, blanketed by mist, the tree ferns stood dusted with snow and the stringybarks rose narrow and tall, an eerie forest at the foot of this great mountain. Ribbons of bark creaked and moaned in the wind, so Boolee felt the hairs on his back stand on end. Turning to Allirea, he pressed his sweaty nose to her shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent. “Here we will winter until the snow melts in the High Country, and the mobs of brumbies leave the Brolga’s country,” he told her, and lightly nipped her shoulder, claiming her once more as his. “Few brumbies know of this place, and it is too harsh a winter for there to be much fighting. But it will be a restless spring ahead, and perhaps then, I will fight for you.”

OOC: For Allirea and Yaruka's mares

[Ehetere]

The spirit of winter surged through Allirea's veins; filling her with excitement. This was a different excitement than that of being alone and free; this was new and thrilling for different reasons. Allirea had followed the grey wraith of a stallion Boolee down from Cascade Creek to the Broga's country; and the wild endless valleys seemed to be just waiting for Allirea to explore and make her own. Boolee nuzzled her shoulder, and Allirea whickered happily in response - it was good to share experiences like this with another. “Here we will winter until the snow melts in the High Country, and the mobs of brumbies leave the Brolga’s country,” murmured Boolee; his voice filled with wisdom and authority, “Few brumbies know of this place, and it is too harsh a winter for there to be much fighting. But it will be a restless spring ahead, and perhaps then, I will fight for you.”

A spasm of fear shot through Allirea. Although she had never asked; it seemed rude to pry, she was sure that Boolee was older than most of the other stallions in the high country, maybe that was why he was so wise. But be that as it may; a younger, quicker horse may maim the beautiful grey stallion, or even kill him; just to get her. She had seen him move with the wind; but a stallion in his prime would be so strong and full of life. Allirea involuntarily snorted with determination; she would do everything in her power to stay with Boolee; she was totally dedicated to him now. She would be a terrifying wraith of a filly as sharp and painful as a shard of quartz if any stallion tried to spirit her away.

[yaruka]

Despite the solitary nature of the gully the two horses were not alone in making it there home. A pretty and very unusual dun mare was just around a bend, hidden from sight and grazing on the wet snowgrass that still managed to grow so low down. A soft breeze swirled her mane around her face and startled, Cardinia looked up. The breeze brought the scents of other horses to her, a stallion and a mare. The strange layout of the gully distorted sounds so that, if she was far enough along the valley she was unable to hear what was at the top. This had never concerned her before, she hadn’t expected anyone else to find the gully. But now it seemed others had. Her curiosity peaked, Cardinia set off around the cliff wall, keeping to the shadows and slipping along as silently as one of those elusive silver brumbies. She wasn’t one, of course, but being pale in colour she had learnt her lessons on keeping free from her mother well. She stopped just out of scent range of the other two horses, keeping to the side so that she could see them but they could not see her. They looked relatively harmless, and she knew this gully better than they did, if the stallion proved hostile she could easily outwit him and escape. She was just about to make her presence known when a sudden clattering of noise from above distracted her and sharp bits of stone came raining down the cliffs….

It was cold. Bitterly so. The little painted filly trotted solo through the ongoing blizzard, eyes squeezed tight against the wind and sharp bits of snow that blew about her. She was desperate for some shelter; anywhere she could have a rest out of the storm. Her coat was ragged, and her fragile frame was bony from months of going without enough food. It had been a hard winter for Tyrilly so far, and it wasn’t even drawing to a close yet. The little filly had no idea where she was, she was trotting on blind faith alone, unaware of the sharp drop to her right. Nothing was as it seemed in the blizzard. Despite the slippery surface her neat hooves found solid purchase, the filly was as nimble as a goat. Still, the snow blurred the line between the cliff and space and a single misstep took the filly over the edge. Those goat’s hooves could not find purchase on pure air, scrambling the tiny filly dropped over the edge, her body sliding down the rough rock, legs churning uselessly. The heart-stopping drop was over in a matter of seconds, Tyrilly had fell onto a ledge, mercifully not far down and covered in sparse bacon and egg bushes. She lay there in shock for a moment as her mind caught up with her body then slowly she pulled herself to her feet. She stood on the little ledge, shaking from a combination of terror, shock and cold. Looking down she felt her equilibrium swung way out of balance, experiencing a sudden onset of vertigo. Terrified, she back away and clung to the cliff wall. She looked above her; there was nothing but sheer rock face for a good 10 feet. Someways to her right she could just make out what looked like a faint path upwards, but she was separated from this path by another gap, this one about five feet in width. A desperate whinny of fear escaped her body, she could see no way off this ledge that had saved her yet now imprisoned her. The beautiful filly seemed doomed to die here.

[Corowa]

The grey filly clung close to him, and Boolee rubbed his head against her wither. Flank to flank, stallion and filly stood, and when she gave a worried snort, he turned and nuzzled her gently. Slowly the pounding of his heart quietened, and the stallion pawed lightly at the snow. Nibbling at the snowgrass, he moved further down into the gully where the roaring, tearing winds could not follow. When a long ribbon of bark swung about in the wind and fell with a crack, Boolee stopped grazing to listen.

With a rough nip, he left Allirea hidden in the sheltering fringe of trees. Here, the nimble filly could duck and weave between the trunks of the snowgums; here she would be half-seen and half-heard, a lissom wraith slipping silently through the trees. With that proud swinging step, Boolee walked on through the thick forest of black sallee hung with old man’s beard, shying when those damp curtains of moss brushed his flank.

Slowly the trees became more wide-spaced, and the gully widened to a grassy flat, the snowgrass wet and spongy underfoot. The spine of the ridge dipped sharply down below the line of the trees, and Boolee advanced more slowly. Suddenly, there on the high edge above him, a brown and white filly stood clear against the snow. Boolee gave a sudden, shocked squeal and swung about, ready to fade into the shadows of the bush.

The filly was too far up the gully to help, and seeing she was no threat, the stallion crept closer. Half-blinded by the wind-driven snow, Boolee could not see how the filly would get down. There were no hoof marks in the snow, and he smelt no stallion, so surely the filly was alone. His anxiousness vanishing, Boolee’s call was muffled by the moaning winds, but there was no further sound. Ears flickering nervously, the stallion urged the filly downwards from the steep edge; worried she would fall to her death, or perish in the snow and gale.

OOC: I’m assuming Allirea’s going to be disobedient and follow him, and since Cardinia’s hidden, he hasn’t seen her yet.

[Ehetere]

OOC: You know Allirea so well...

Boolee led her to some snowgums and nipped her; telling her to stay put. Something had made him want to go alone, and Allirea wanted to know what it was. She threaded through the snowgums after him, her feet not making a sound on the snow dusted ground. Boolee came to a flat, where the snow was a little more heavily on the ground, and Allirea crept up to the fringe of the trees.

The flat then dipped well away, and Allirea knew that she had spotted the filly before Boolee had. She was perched precariously atop a frail looking ledge in a sheer cliff face; how any horse could be silly enough to get themselves into such a predicament Allirea did not know. She snorted quietly, and Boolee then finally threw up his head and noticed the brown paint filly. He squealed and turned back in her direction, and Allirea tensed herself to disappear as quickly and as quietly as possible. But something made Boolee stop, and then creep closer to where there filly was clinging on for dear life. Boolee then called to her; much to Allirea's astonishment, and started urging her down.

It was not that she wanted the paint to perish up on that slope, it was more that she felt that Boolee should be hers, and hers alone. It was not fit for a stallion to have only one mare, but maybe it would have been wiser and safer for an older stallion to have only one, making it easier to hide and escape without notice, and less stallions to fight. Any mare a stallion had in his herd may be desired by another and by having a larger number of mares, the chances of a stallion liking one of them enough to fight for her increased. Still, maybe, just maybe, she all by herself would cause more trouble than this new mare or any other mare that Boolee decided to collect. It then occurred to her that Boolee may not actually want this mare; he may have been helping her out of kindness. Allirea thought that perhaps she should be more kind too on occasion. No, it was too much trouble to be overly nice all the time; Allirea would just try not to be particularly mean spirited. But sometimes she could not help it; she liked attention and hated when it was diverted from her.

[yaruka]

A faint squeal, distorted by the wind, from below sent another spasm of terror through the filly’s lean body. What horrors lay beneath her? She daren’t move closer to the edge to look and see. Gradually she calmed as another sound, this time much more familiar met her ears. A stallion was calling to her. And another horse too, perhaps one of his mares? The stallion was encouraging her to climb down the steep rock face, urging her to move out of the terrible snowstorm that swirled above. “I cannot” whinnied Tyrilly desperately “I see no way down the cliff.” But the stallion’s encouragement had strengthened her resolve, she would find a way, she must. Cautiously she crept to the edge of the cliff, dished head tucked close to her chest to avoid the worst of the gale. Her slender legs struck out, carefully, dainty hooves feeling the surface before she placed her full weight on it. Finally she came to the edge, and, nose to the ground, explored her situation. From where she was she could see another shelf, not too far below. And it seemed like another shelf was below that one, and another, a pattern of shelves at varying distances to use as stepping stones to make her way down. If she could just make the first, the farthest away, she should be able to make it down to the valley. Normally the filly wouldn’t have hesitated at the challenge, she was as surefooted as could be and enjoyed daring herself into making difficult leaps and climbs. But the fall down the cliff face had really shaken her, not to mention the thin coating of ice on half of the shelves. Snorting nervously, Tyrilly backed up. She looked around her for some other way down but knew before she had even started searching that there would be no other way. Taking a deep breath she moved forward to the edge again and then, tensing her nimble body, leapt for the ledge below. The wind swirled around her, causing her mane and tail to fly up above her and almost tossing her lean body off course. But some how she made it, landing with a startling jolt, the impact of the landing forcing her to fall forward on her knees. She stood up quickly, knees raw pink and bleeding from their contact with the rock. Still, it could have been worse. Slowly she made her way down the rest of the cliff, jumping as gracefully even inspite the circumstances. Eventually she made it to the last ledge and, with a final effort, launched herself off of it to the ground below. There her legs finally gave way under her and shaking, she collapsed to the ground. Struggling, she stood up, standing with long legs braced wide apart, trembling in her effort to keep standing. She raised her head, strangely vibrant blue eyes gazing bravely at the stallion and mares before her, wondering what would happen now. Her bedraggled patched coat clung limply to her skinny frame, making her just about the most pathetic sight most horses had ever set eyes on.


Cardinia moved forward as the stallion and mare did, keeping a few paces behind them so as to avoid notice but, drawn as they were, to the source of that sudden noise. What she saw shocked her, surely that was not a filly clinging to rock face, buffeted by wind and snow? But what else could I be? For it was surely no ghost. The little horse’s frantic whinny confirmed it as a living being, Cardinia was quite sure that no spirit would have sounded so terrified. But what was she doing there? And more importantly, how on earth was she going to get down? Though not one to fret about many things in life, Cardinia was not a cruel mare, she was worried for the poor thing. The grey stallion was also obviously concerned, calling to the filly, encouraging her to come down. Pacing agitatedly, Cardinia flung her head up to add her own call to the winds, long creamy forelock swept over her eyes and two-toned mane blown in the sudden gust of wind. She cared not if the others noticed her, but she wanted the filly to hear her. “Be brave little one,” her voice echoed off the cliffs. Then she stopped her pacing, large frame poised and faintly trembling, ears pointed forward to monitor the filly’s progress as she made her way down the rock face.

[Corowa]

Dropping his head, Boolee nosed the filly. Breathing warm air into her nostrils, he softly nipped one of those brown ears. The filly was very cold and wet, brown coat darkened still by snow and rain. Nostrils quivering with the gentlest of nickers, he urged the filly to find her feet. There was shelter in the ghostly forest of black sallee, shelter from the beating, cold snow and wild winds.

From further down the gully a mare’s call rang out, and Boolee swung about, for it was not a mare he knew. Between the smooth grey-white trunks of the snowgums, he saw the gleam of creamy hide, and his ears pricked forwards, chest vibrating with a throaty whicker. He did not see Allirea hiding in the shadows of trees, as he floated like mist over the snowgrass towards the pale coloured mare.

With an imperious neigh, he told the brown and white filly to follow. In luring her away from the steep rocky edge, Boolee felt responsible for the filly and he wanted to. When she matured, she would be a beautiful mare, for she was fine-boned and fine-legged. Here on the bare snowgrass flat, the brumbies were vulnerable, and Boolee was aware of the sunlight dancing on his silver and white coat.

Skin prickling; the stallion flitted through the snowgums. Silently he walked, each hoof placed carefully so as to leave no track. For there in a small glade, the elusive creamy filly stood. Breathless with excitement, he whinnied a soft greeting. Ears flickering curiously, he boldly stretched out his nose. “I am Boolee,” he said, with a proud toss of his head. “I am named for the whirlwind, for my swiftness and strength. For what were you named, fine filly, for you seem a daughter of Thowra himself.”

[Ehetere]

OOC: I think Boolee has just given Allirea a hatred of silver horses lol... or maybe just mares who want to join his herd in general

Allirea watched with growing anger how Boolee snuffled at the filly, just as he had snuffled at her. She had got here first! Why was Boolee paying so much attention to this other mare; it went far beyond the lines of courtesy and concern for her welfare. Allirea snorted again, louder this time, her breath clouding the air around her head. Just then, the call of a second unknown mare met her ears. Boolee replied with a throaty wicker, and trotted towards the trees from which the mare's call had come, calling the brown and white filly along with him. Allirea shook her head in an annoyed manner and trotted out of her cover of the trees and silently followed; her pale coat almost blending with the snow.

Allirea crept up behind them, a little to the left, and saw in a glade a creamy mare, just standing there waiting for Boolee. Boolee himself held his nose out to the mare as he had to her. Allirea was incensed; how could Boolee do this to her? What was worse was this creamy mare, who was trying to be beautiful as if just to spite her and steal Boolee's affections. Unable to contain herself any longer, Allirea backed out as silently as she had come, not wanting to have to watch another minute. She went back out on to the icy plain again, and trumpeted her mysterious call to the sky, and more specifically to Boolee. He had come to her; she had not waited for him; and she was going to remind him of this fact.

She flung he hooves into the air; showering her coat and mane in glittering crystals. Then she began to dance in the snow; pivoting and rearing until Boolee emerged from the trees. She would not care if the cacophonous amount of nose she had produced scared off the creamy, or even the brown and white, but she must have Boolee. Allirea was waiting for when he emerged from the trees and could see her properly, a shining silver statue against the snow. She would remind him of her her namesake, a shining, glittering crystal.

[yaruka]

Trembling, Tyrilly was nonetheless grateful for the stallion's gentle touch, doing her best of ignore the huffyness of the mare behind her. Swaying only slightly, she followed him into the nearby grove of trees to where, it seemed another mare was waiting, though she could have been a trick of the light for all Tyrilly was aware. The mare, if she was there, was indeed golden, merging with her backdrop of swirling snow catching the first light of the early morning. As soon as Tyrilly reached the shelter of the black sallee she let her legs fold beneath her, resting her small head on the ground, and fell asleep. She dreamed of a silver stallion in a halo of light, who greeted a golden mare, a mare of the dawn herself.

Cardinia was indeed a mare of the dawn light. As the low whicker of the grey stallion met her ears she looked at him curiously, taking the measure of him in the soft light of the snowstorm. He was handsome, impressive almost, even to Cardinia's critical eyes. He floated towards her, and though she could of, Cardinia made no attempt to flee. She had been alone for quite sometime now. She was impressed by his silent movements, the way in which he left no tracks, something she herself had learnt from her mother. Perhaps this stallion would be a good one to run with, for he was not only handsome but clearly wise. The stallion whinnied a soft greeting, introducing himself and reaching out to her with his muzzle. Cardinia hesitated a fraction of an instant, before reaching out with her own nose to touch his.
“I am Boolee,” declared the stallion, “I am named for the whirlwind, for my swiftness and strength. For what were you named, fine filly, for you seem a daughter of Thowra himself. Cardinia was about to comment on the stallion's 'modesty' when his compliment caught her off guard. A filly of Thowra's? That was new, and the mare was quite flattered. For though she did share a similar colouring to many of Thowra's descendents, her build was much heavier than the ghostly stallion of myth or his noted progeny. Not to say she wasn't beautiful, her larger frame suited her, she was conformationally sound. But she showed nothing of the dishyness of Thowra's face, or the slimness of his legs. Still, she was slightly smitten, and ducking her head shyly took a moment to respond. "I am no daughter of Thowra's" she said honestly, feeling no shame as she did so and meeting the stallion's eyes dead on, as an equal. "But I am a filly of the light nonetheless. I am Cardinia, named for the dawn." Beyond the stallion she caught sight of the grey mare, impatient as seemd per usual for the lovely filly. Snorting softly in amusement, for Cardinia was not one to seek attention, she nodded pointedly in Allirea's direction "I think perhaps your mare requires your attention," she said matter of factly. The filly Boolee had rescued off the cliff, bringing him up in her estimations, was curled close by the stallion's feet. Cardinia longed to go over to the sweet thing, to lick her ragged coat dry with her tongue so that the poor thing would not freeze to death. As soon as the stallion was otherwise preoccupied she would do so, for now she was afraid that the poor filly would get trampled if she was surrounded by two horses. The night had been full of surprises so far and Cardinia was not taking the chance of one of them startling and crushing the delicate thing.

OOC: soooooo shabby I'm really sorry.

[Corowa]

The brown and white filly had followed him willingly into the sheltering fringe of trees. Standing on shaking legs, the filly dropped to the ground, and Boolee’s ears flicked back as he suddenly gave her a hard nip. For although the snow fell only lightly, he was eager to hustle the filly off into the bush at the mouth of the gully, close to where he’d left Allirea. Yet there was still this exciting creamy mare who stretched out her nose so shyly, and Boolee nickered, striking out playfully with his foreleg. “You are a beautiful mare indeed,” he said, for though she was not of Thowra’s lineage, she was still possessed of this rare creamy colour. Fascinated, the stallion moved closer, ears pricked to signal good intentions while he curiously sniffed her flank.

From further down the flat, a sobbing call rang out, and the stallion stilled. There, dancing gaily amidst the snow heavy trees was Allirea. Lit up dramatically by a shaft of sunlight, the grey filly glistened bright in the pale hours of dawn. With a squeal of pure outrage, Boolee lunged towards the filly at a full gallop. He burst from the trees, a furious pale streak, and hurtled down the flat. With a wide sweeping motion, he swung round the filly, in a fierce gesture of dominance.

Rearing up, he reached over, biting the grey filly’s neck, pushing her with his shoulder and broad chest. His ears were flat against his neck, and his eyes rolled. “You were to stay in the trees Allirea where you would be hidden,” he snapped, his agitation tinged with fear, anger coursing hot and furious through his veins. “What if another had seen you and sought you out? You are no foolish filly; you are a mare beautiful as the snow itself, and for that you must listen.”