Searching Through The Snow...

[Ehetere]

OOC: Still in winter, this is for Tingara and Crayola to meet up before spring...

Nepelle snorted, lifting his head from the ground where he had been sniffing around. He had been leading the mare Crayola, her filly foal Castelle and the pale golden filly Kurrin back in the direction from which he had come, since he did not know what lay in the other direction. All he knew was that Crayola was seeking her stallion Tingara, and although he had no idea of who this was or where his usual haunts were, Nepelle was not going to leave the three fillies to fend for themselves out in this cold snow. Now matter how much he wanted to lead Kurrin away either, he couldn't find it in his heart to leave the spotty mare and her oddly coloured foal alone in the wilderness, since they were more lost than he. Besides, Kurrin wanted to go with her mother, and wherever she went, Nepelle would follow.

The snowstorm had died in the very early hours of the morning; but there were still many lingering clouds in the sky. They were not heavy with snow, but they did obscure the sun, which disappointed Nepelle a great deal. He would have loved to dance with Kurrin in the golden rays of the morning sun; to have his coat set on fire and have the ice he threw into the air glitter like diamonds. Then he too, could see the splendor of Kurrin in the light; she had been beautiful and mysterious in the storm but surely she would be superb in the golden rays? Never the less, Nepelle had been considerate of the pretty if oddly coloured filly Castelle. She could not travel very fast through the snow, so Nepelle had contented himself with dancing and prancing with Kurrin; all the while amusing Crayola from behind with his imaginative, graceful movements. They were now in a rocky area that Nepelle had found out from a passing wallaby was called the Brindle Bull, and this had seemed a interesting place to explore. Nepelle had spent almost a week roaming in the Bull, and had thought that although he had found a good number of excellent haunts and hiding spots, there were assuredly more to be found.

Presently, he found wandered into the area he had passed through just before he had moved down into that boggy country, a little glade that was well sheltered and still had a few shrubs with nutritious seed pods on them; and Nepelle had thought that they would make good pickings if he could find no grazing anywhere else. He then stopped, and broke a hole in the pool at the centre to allow them all to have a drink and rest before they continued on. He walked over to where Crayola was standing and asked her as casually as possible, "So I have not been in these mountains long, certainly not long enough to know any horses. Tingara, who you mentioned was your stallion, who is he?" Nepelle had to know how old and strong this Tingara was before he met him in case he had to make a run for it or even fight him. Not that fighting him would be entirely justified; he had after all just led one of his mares out of a snowstorm, but all the same.

OOC: Sounding familiar Caity???

[Tiggs]

The spotted mare followed happily after the chestnut and slurped noisily from the pool of water he had uncovered. Spotted nose dripping, she turned to Nepelle with a brightening expression. “Oh Tingara is so handsome! He’s black, not like you, you’re like…” Her short tail flicked against her rump as she thought. It took a while, but she finally found the description she was after. “Like a bushfire sunset.” She looked pleased with herself. “He’s very kind to all his mares – there are a lot of us. I think I please him – I’ve bore him a son and two daughters. I hope we find him soon, I would like to have another son in the spring.”

The mare continued to ramble, keeping an eye on Kurrin and Castelle as they played by the frozen poolside. “He’s always very busy. I think it’s because of the other stallions. They don’t challenge him often, but they are always coming close. He doesn’t like them when they get close. Once one came to talk to me and Tingara didn’t like him much. I think he was a little jealous. There’s a white stallion that comes by from time to time. Don’t tell anyone, but I think Tingara is worried he will steal Myrrina. Myrrina is his favourite. I don’t mind. Being his favourite must be nice though. Tingara looks after me though and he gives me foals. I like foals. Prisma is gone now though. He’s black too. I’m very proud of him. He’s just like his father. I think one day he might even be King too.” Typically unaware of the bombshell she had just dropped, she ambled over to a bush to nibble at the leaves and pods still clinging to it.

Kurrin meanwhile had been playing with her sister, finding a fun game in stomping the ice over the puddle. The brittle stuff cracked and shattered under her hooves, and she squealed each time water splashed up and speckled her chest and stomach. It was odd that there was water under there. She showed Castelle how to break the ice with her hooves, and they were still playing when Crayola had finished rambling. Kurrin paused for a moment, tossing her head up proudly as she looked over at the chestnut. In that moment, the bright sunshine of the day cast over her pale golden coat, water shining in droplets on the long winter fur like diamonds, she looked every inch a King’s daughter.

[Ehetere]

Nepelle began to grow more and more uneasy as Crayola talked about Tingara, her stallion. The mention of many mares indicated that he was clearly not a dolt of a stallion. She sounded like one of his favorites too. And then Crayola started talking about how her stallion received others.

“He’s always very busy. I think it’s because of the other stallions. They don’t challenge him often, but they are always coming close." rambled Crayola, still observing her two daughters who were playing near the icy pool. Nepelle was now starting to get really nervous. Challenge? "He doesn’t like them when they get close. Once one came to talk to me and Tingara didn’t like him much. I think he was a little jealous." she continued in such an offhand manner, and Nepelle was beginning to become more and more alarmed. He couldn't help but glance nervously around the clearing. His coat was beginning to prickle with fear.

"There’s a white stallion that comes by from time to time. Don’t tell anyone, but I think Tingara is worried he will steal Myrrina. Myrrina is his favorite. I don’t mind. Being his favorite must be nice though. Tingara looks after me though and he gives me foals. I like foals. Prisma is gone now though. He’s black too. I’m very proud of him. He’s just like his father. I think one day he might even be King too.” said Crayola; finishing her speech apparently and going to munch on a couple of seed pods that were scattered on bushes around the clearing. Nepelle on the other hand was frozen into absolute stillness. What had he gotten himself into? He had just been wandering the wilderness with one of the mares from the King's herd himself. He wanted to run off with the King's daughter, but he was sure that the spotty mare Crayola and her foal Castelle would follow him as they seemed to have taken a distinct liking to him. That would only make the problem worse.

Nepelle's mind was whirring; there seemed no easy solution to the problem he had gotten himself into. He desperately wanted Kurrin to be his, but he could see no clear way of achieving it; she was nervous as it was and Nepelle wasn’t even sure at this stage whether she would leave her mother to come with him once she knew that her mother was safe. Crayola had also mentioned that when another stallion had merely talked to her that Tingara had gotten angry; and now here he was with the same mare and two of her daughters. He was thankful that he had not done anything rash and tried to take her for his herd.

A squeal brought Nepelle out of his brooding; Kurrin and Castelle seemed to be breaking the ice on the pond and were splashing each other with the icy water, each one squealing whenever the cold liquid touched their hides. Their innocence touched Nepelle; it was extremely endearing. Just then the sun briefly emerged from behind the clouds; illuminating Kurrin in bright sunlight. Nothing existed for Nepelle in that instant except for Kurrin. She was the single most beautiful thing in the world; her golden coat spangled with diamonds and frosted with snow. How could he ever leave her to avoid another stallion; who ever that may be, King or not? He was no coward; and besides, he had done nothing wrong. He had cared for these mare and looked after them when there was n one else to. Was that such a crime? Determination surged through his body; had he not vowed that he would fight every stallion in these hills just to keep Kurrin. If the King wanted to fight; Nepelle would not back down. He nickered to Kurrin; complimenting her beauty, and was unaware of the sunlight burning on his coat and turning his mane to liquid fire.

[Tiggs]

Kurrin was brave enough to hold his gaze for a moment until her shyness caught up with her and she looked away. Her eyes moved, unintentionally following the line of his neck and body. The way the sun complimented his bright pelt was fascinating. His mane really was like liquid fire. Whatever he was thinking made his posture proud and determined, and after realising she was staring, she nickered to herself and looked away.

Crayola had moved to her daughters and began grooming Castelle. Kurrin peeked a look over at Nepelle and sidled over in his direction. She walked slowly at first, but sped to a trot and then cantered past him. She kicked up her heels as she passed, off-white tail almost hitting his nose. She moved across some open ground, stepping up a small rise to a ridge overlooking a snow-laden blanket below. She paused there; tail flagged, neck arched and ears trained forward.

Since meeting Nepelle, there were little voices niggling at her, and she couldn’t understand what they were saying. All she could determine was some sense of agitation and expectancy. Spring was important. But why? She cast a glance over her shoulder, a sudden wind catching her mane and whipping it across her face, breaking her vision into stripes through which she could just see the chestnut approaching.

She quickly faced forward, staring intently over the gully. Her hide prickled and that nervousness returned. What was it about Nepelle that wanted her to play and flee at the same time? Would she ever figure it out?

[Ehetere]

Kurrin came trotting over to him, and Nepelle just stood watching. When she was almost beside him, she cantered off, throwing her tail in his face and almost tickling his nostrils. Nepelle let out a whinny of joy and followed her close behind. Little puffs of snow were being thrown into the air by her hooves, and continued to get Nepelle in the face so he slowed a little so that he could actually see where he was going. Kurrin stopped atop a small hillock, and stood there poised, still and as silent and as breathtaking as winter wilderness around her. She looked back in his direction, a breeze lifting her mane causing it to whip around her face. Nepelle stopped, stock still in his tracks, marveling at such an exquisite filly. He called to her, his voice echoing through the surrounding valleys.

Spring could be coming soon; Nepelle could feel it in his bones, and if he could entice her to join him, convince her that no harm would befall her in his care; he would undoubtedly have to fight for her. One could not possess such a superb filly and expect to live in peace. Nepelle was not afraid of fighting, far from it; and this spring he would finally gain his full strength that came from maturity. This spring would be far from normal, and it would be exhilarating; he would finally be able to glory in the sound of his own voice and power and not be ashamed, or glorying for something he did not yet own.

Kurrin suddenly pricked her ears forward and gazed out over the open valley beneath her; and a sense of foreboding crept into Nepelle. Nervously, he trotted up to her side and looked out across the vast wilderness. He could detect no movement through the trees or snow, but he was sure there was someone watching then from far below. It could not be man; it was still winter, but it could be the King; Tingara, and then Nepelle remembered his call to Kurrin, and felt ashamed. If Tingara truly was near by, he certainly would have heard. Nepelle snorted rather nervously, as the feeling of eyes on his blazing chestnut hid did not abate. “Perhaps we should return to your mother and sister,” he suggested, suspecting that Kurrin also felt that she was being watched. Nepelle glanced back in the direction where Castelle and Crayola were sheltering, but the trees blocked his view and he could not see them or the clearing.

[tingara]

Amongst the ghostly wind-swept snowgums the whisper of black shape moved steadily east. Every muscle of the stallion’s body spoke of desperation and eagerness. The mopoke it seemed matched this stallion’s mood with its mournful cry to the stormy skies. For a moment, Tingara stopped the search he’d been leading for days and lifted his head up. His nostrils quivered as they took in the scents around him. Over the normal scents of the snow-laden bush there were horses, familiar horses. The signs were faint but they were there and getting closer. Before he moved off again he glanced around behind him. Muyan was there were she still where she had been faithfully since she had nursed him back to health.

“Are you all right?” Tingara asked softly, snuffling her forelock. He hoped that he hadn’t ignored her wellbeing in his pig-headed search for his lost mares. When he was satisfied that she was indeed all right he moved off again. A stallion’s call pierced the winter silence. Instantly Tingara was off, galloping as quietly through the undergrowth as he could. There was a steep ledge between where he was sure he’d heard the call and where he pulled up. His ears twitched straining to catch voices. This stallion may not even have any of his mares but he had to be sure.

Slowly Tingara crept to where the stallion’s scent was strongest, using his colour to his full advantage in the shadows of the trees. After what seemed like an age the stranger came into view and he was not alone. Overwhelming happiness took hold of the black stallion but he resisted the urge to burst from the trees to Crayola’s side. With a deep whinny he stepped proudly from his cover, observing the fact the other stallion seemed quite taken with Kurrin. He whinnied gently to Crayola trying to express how happy he was to see her without breaking out into a prancing act like a yearling.

“Greetings stranger,” he bobbed his head respectfully at the stallion the colour of fire. “If it is not too much trouble I am here for Crayola and Castelle and have no wish to fight for the mare and little filly that are mine,” Tingara motioned towards the appaloosas but deliberately did not mention Kurrin. If this stallion had done what he suspected and taken care of Crayola then he would gladly see his daughter off with him.

[Tiggs]

Kurrin watched Nepelle surveying the valley. She had not seen anything, but he was acting oddly today. Albeit she did not have much to judge what was normal for Nepelle, but his agitation was starting to rub off on her. She shifted her weight anxiously, and nodded quickly when he suggested returning to her mother and sister. She nipped his shoulder playfully and with her blazed head carried high, she trotted back toward the pool.

As the pale palomino reached her mother, a shadow detached from the trees. Kurrin was stricken at first but at Crayola’s loud trumpet of a greeting, she knew instantly not to be afraid. The trio of mares rushed forward to greet the black stallion, and Crayola fussed about with his mane, sniffing him all over to make sure he was alright like a doting mother. She was naturally oblivious to the politics, and set about grooming her stallion’s back with contented crooning noises.

Kurrin had not missed the second horse hidden in the trees. A dark grey mare. Nervous Kurrin pressed in close with her mother and father, hiding from the unknown mare and casting nervous glances in Nepelle’s direction. Her apprehension was growing. Had her father missed her name on purpose? Why? Or had he forgotten her? She shrunk a little, hiding her head under Crayola’s neck. She had been looking forward to seeing her brave father again, but she was saddened that he seemed not to remember her.

[Ehetere]

He and Kurrin were returning to Crayola and the pool when a dark shadow detached itself from the treeline. Nepelle immediately tensed, as did Kurrin, but then Crayola let out a trumpeting call in greeting. Nepelle felt Kurrin uncoil beside him, but he stayed tense, worried about how Tingara would receive him. But the stallion seemed overjoyed at finding one of his mares and whinnied in a low rumbling voice to her. Crayola seemed just as happy, if not happier to see him; setting upon him like a mare who had just found her foal, crooning to him and grooming his mane with her teeth. Kurrin kept on glancing between him and the trees for some reason, and it was then that he finally noticed a shadowy figure of another mare hiding amongst the branches. She had been so silent he had not even guessed that there had been another horse near them.

“Greetings stranger. If it is not too much trouble I am here for Crayola and Castelle and have no wish to fight for the mare and little filly that are mine,” said Tingara in a respectful voice; not the jealous stallion that Crayola had made him out to be. Nepelle bobbed his head at the older stallion in reply, recognizing that he had not mentioned Kurrin, it was almost like the King was giving him permission to take Kurrin away. Kurrin on the other hand, seemed to interpret her fathers message differently. Immediately her face clouded over with hurt and sadness; and she ducked her head under her mother for protection, even though she was now far too big to fit properly. She was such a timid creature, but Nepelle did not understand what caused her such anguish. He lowered his head so that he could see her face under her mother's belly and nickered to her softly, asking what was wrong.

[tingara]

Delighted at the attention and fussing from Crayola it could be said that if he could, Tingara would be purring. He whinnied softly at the beautiful spotted mare and then to the smokey grey one that was still hidden behind him. He wanted Muyan to meet Crayola, the mare that was guaranteed to accept her instantly. “I missed you so much,” he nickered softly, returning Crayola’s gesture and grooming her neck. “Crayola, meet Muyan. Muyan this is Crayola and our daughters Kurrin and Castelle,” he introduced cheerfully, trying to beckon the beautiful grey mare from her cover.

Kurrin’s expression when he did not mention her name did not go unnoticed by the black stallion. It was unpleasant to see his daughter hurt so and even worse to know he’d done it. “My dear Kurrin, I did neglect to say your name only because, if it is what you want I give you my blessing to run with this stallion the colour of fire,” Tingara said softly, moving to her and gently nibbling her forelock lovingly. She may be his daughter but he couldn’t keep her around forever, no matter how much he wanted to. It was hard not to be protective of his own flesh and blood but something told him that this new and strange stallion was someone who Kurrin would be well off with.

“Please tell me your name stranger so that I may know who to thank properly for looking after sweet Crayola and our foals. And so I know fully who my daughter may choose to run with,” Tingara turned back to Nepelle, his face beaming with joy and gratitude. He respected this stallion, he who had not objected to his presence and his want of Crayola. If he’d wanted the stranger could have challenged Tingara but he hadn’t which proved to the black that he was most certainly an amiable and noble horse.

[Valatone]

Ahh...Winter, coming at last. It felt much better than the last, where she'd carried a dead foal all that time. The perlino mare quietly flicked her mane, hoping that no stray stallions or colts where fallowing her. She loved this time of the year, mainly these lovely moments alone near a bunch of snowgums, nibbiling the slightly-wet grass. The ground wasn't quite covered yet, but the mare knew it would be soon. Making her move, Valatone stopped her snack and continued along her way, searching for her lost beloved.

The Brumby Run had been quite a horrific experience- the smell of fear flying through the air, men with horses on all sides. Valatone barely remembered how on Earth she had escaped. Shrugging off such murky thoughts, she knew she couldn't be far from Tingara. She couldn't wait to give him a surprise, that once again she was pregnant with his foal, This time she would take better care, and hoped it wouldn't be another stillborn. But that stage of her life was over, and things were looking up.

Letting out a flimsy call to her stallion, she suddenly felt rather faint, but was quite used to it after being in foal twice. The silly swings in the head, headaches and such. But, Valatone enjoyed knowing that she could look after a young son or daughter once again. She was so sure it wouldn't be like Arika. No, that was unlikely. Getting back to the point, she placed her nose to the ground, once again getting his fresh scent, along with a few other mares and past stallions.

Just up ahead, through the trees, she could see shadowy figures. Very quitely, the white mare made her enterance through the bendy eucalypt trees, nickering out to the dark Tingara and seeing more mares and some foals. Smiling slightly, she felt the faintness coming back to her head, but tried to stand as long as she could. Soon she could lie down and rest peacefully.