Lost (Open)

[Tiggs]

Kurrin felt awash with shame as the stallion looked at her with such disappointment. She’d peeked her eyes open to look at him but she wanted to screw them shut again. She’d done something wrong to hurt him. She’d been thinking of herself, of her fear, though she hadn’t realised he would be affected by it like that. It was as if she had insulted him, and she ducked her head quickly in apology. She hadn’t meant it.

The palomino wanted to take back what she had told him. If she had stayed silent, Nepelle would not have been upset. It was strange to her that a stallion could even be insulted, they always seemed so confident in themselves. Were his emotions the same as hers? Were they really that similar?

He would not stop looking at her, and she was close to fleeing to escape that look. He was shifting, moving away then toward her. She skittered sideways, her flank suddenly cold in the bitter air. A small part of her then wanted to take back that closeness. His lack of words made the silence painful, and she nickered softly to fill the empty space.

The chestnut was extending his muzzle to her now. Had she been forgiven? Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his nose to her mother and sister sleeping so close. Nepelle’s expression was so earnest that she wanted to trust him. Why was that? Nothing had changed, he was still the same large stallion, but the offer of safety made way for a little of that need to trust him grow.

Without moving her feet, she tentatively stretched out her own pale muzzle to his. She stopped and started a few times and when her whiskers finally brushed his nose, she nipped him with a startled but soft bite and shied back with a toss of her head. Her feet shuffled in the snow, and she looked unsure. She knew she shouldn’t have nipped him, and she was scared she might have disappointed him again. Kurrin steeled herself and stretched her head forward, offering her muzzle instead. They could spend all day at this game and she would likely shy away each time but every attempt would bring her a little closer to trust, and a little closer to him.

[Ehetere]

The instant the pale filly's nose touched his; it was if an electric current had run through Nepelle's body. He could feel; with absolute clarity, every hair in his coat and every muscle and bone that lay beneath, but most significantly his beating heart. He had desired fillies and mares before; but nothing could compare with how he felt now. He had never felt so alive. The filly continued to extend her nose to him before springing back in nervousness, but Nepelle could tell that every time she sprang away, she was trusting him more and growing less afraid. He was also surprised that their prancing and dancing did not wake Crayola and her foal. Still, it was the golden filly, not he, who was doing most of the dancing in the snow, all the while sending puffs of snow into the air around her. In between her pattern of coming forward and moving back again, Nepelle reached his nose out again and asked as she paused, "You mother mentioned two names that I think refer to you and your sister, but she was not at all specific as to which was which. Are you Castelle or Kurrin?" He has used his, gentlest, quietest voice he could so as not to wake the sleeping pair beside him and scare the filly back into the cavern of fear she had only just hauled herself out of. He then blew through his nostrils, sending a warn cloud of air in her direction, prompting her for an answer and reassuring her at the same time.

[Tiggs]

This was becoming a game. How close could she get her muzzle to his without touching? Her nervous skittering was looking more like a dance. She paused to collect her feet, tossing her head up, nostrils flaring as if she wanted to call but did not want to wake her mother and sister.

Nepelle spoke, and she reversed nervously. Her ears flickered and she came forward with short nervous steps. She reached her muzzle to his, brushed it, and sneaked forward a little more to whisper close to his ear. “I am Kurrin.” She wheeled and turned circles. She dashed away so far that she disappeared in the falling snow. She bucked and galloped a wide circle before running back to Nepelle, her breathing deeper and less worried.

Unable to explain why, she came only as close that she could just see Nepelle’s rusty coat through the blizzard and she pranced there. Like a ghost on the edges of his vision, she turned and bucked, full of youthful energy and suddenly having the confidence to express it. She had not played so gaily since she had colts and fillies of Tingara’s herd to play with.

The pale silent wraith reared, throwing her head back and kicking her forelegs out. She felt looser, the tension concealed in her had been stretched out. She stopped for a moment, looking to Nepelle where he stood watching. Her own soft nicker, carried away from him by the wind confused her. Why did she want to call him? She was abruptly endowed with the knowledge that she could call him away. They could play together in the snow. The nervous buzz in her stomach returned and she shied away. He was still a large stallion. Playing with his would be dangerous, even if he would not mean it. He possessed an awesome strength, and one flailing hoof could hurt her more than any other horse her age.

She was almost nervous enough to melt back into the snow again, but then she saw the slight distortion of colour that was her mother and sister. She could not leave them. Plucking up her courage, she trotted primly over to the spotted mare and filly and stood beside her sister. Her dance had warmed her, and Castelle mumbled in her sleep and rested against the hot flank of her sister.

Kurrin looked to Nepelle, her expression wary. Ever so carefully, she gestured for him to join her. The invitation was bold for her despite its nervous delivery.

[Ehetere]

The pale gold wraith continued to dance around him, at times almost blending in and disappearing into the snow. Slowly and carefully, Nepelle edged himself away from the sleeping mare and foal to watch the filly dance so gracefully. Then in an act of boldness, she brushed her muzzle against his and whispered into his ear; "I am Kurrin" And then she was away again; as fleeting and lovely as the falling snow. Slowly, through her dancing, her confidence increased until she was bucking for joy and was even tossing her head and rearing. Nepelle did not think another horse could dance so gracefully. He wanted to tell her this; however he feared that any interruption now would undermine her confidence, so he stayed silent and watching.

She nickered to him, and Nepelle was over-joyed; perhaps he had finally won her heart? Then again, perhaps not. She had abruptly stopped and was looking at him rather strangely, and then an inkling of fear returned to her eyes, and Nepelle thought that maybe she would run away; to come so close and then to lose her now would be beyond cruel. She looked so delicate, so frail all of a second, he wanter to go over and stand by her, to tell her that he would always protect her from danger. But he didn't; because in her eyes he may be the danger.

Then a strange expression crossed her face again, and she trotted over, not to him, but to her mother and sister. She settled her flank against her sisters; warming her, and Nepelle felt selfish and foolish for leaving the little foal there to get cold. And then she looked at him, asking him to come and join her. Nepelle could not believe it; he had thought that she would maybe flee; and this was the completely opposite reaction. She kept him guessing, and it added the feeling of mystery to the air, the unknown could be scary, but also exciting. Nickering gently, Nepelle trotted over to her and even before he moved beside her he could feel her body heat - that dance in the snow had certainly warmed her. Or maybe it was just him, as she seemed ultra-sensitive of every movement she made and was hyper aware of her presence. He would stay beside her and keep her warm through the rest of the night and would now go wherever she did. If she wanted to follow her mother on her search for Tingara, the mysterious stallion who was her sire, Nepelle would go too, although would probably make himself scarce if they did end up finding the stallion. He probably wouldn't be too pleased to see another stallion, especially one like Nepelle, chasing after his daughter, or more importantly one of his mares. So Nepelle dropped off into a half waking sleep, never truly losing consciousness, and was always away of Kurrin's hide next to his, and electrically aware of her where they touched.