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Post by aPPY on Jun 11, 2011 20:50:41 GMT -5
adalie!the playful one
» Soil shifts as her hooves sink into the soft ground. She takes a deep breath as she walks, taking in the smells of the trees around her. It was eerily quiet as the birds perched high in their nests. She lightly tossed her crown, her tresses flowing in the cool springtime breeze and tickling her ears. She snorted, transitioning into a slow canter through the trees, the low babble of a nearby stream echoing off the many tree trunks. She closed her orbs, relying on the sounds around her to keep her from colliding with the trees.The sunlight passing through the high canopies danced over her lids and made her smile softly.
» The sounds of the stream increased in volume and Adalie opened her eyes. She could see the shimmer of water in the midday sun and she slowed her pace to a steady trot. Her hooves struck the rocks along the shore but she kept her balance easily as she gathered her hind end underneath her and lept into the stream. The water splashed against her pelt, the temperature stealing her breath for a moment. She waded to the other side and trod out of the water, shaking her form before turning and lowering her head to sooth her scratchy throat. It was then that she realized she wasn't alone. Her head shot high into the air and her ears swiveled forward as she saw a golden equine standing in the stream. "Oh, hello," she said, lowering her head from the stiff, alert position it was in, "I didn't realize anyone else was here."
word count » 279
well. better than i thought i would do. nothing compared to your 1157 though. :)
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Post by Abba on Jun 11, 2011 21:14:00 GMT -5
Resounding Memories;;RastaAs a rapturous voice
escapes, I will tremble in prayer and I'll beg for forgiveness Rasta snorted once, ducking her head into the water quickly before allowing it to wash over her whole entire face and splashing it upwards. It created a huge splash into the world before she gently began to push her way upwards towards the bank. She felt the presence of another mare and snorted once, "It's fine. I was just messing around." she said, flicking her tail once and then prancing in place before shaking her coat to rid herself of the water. Her auds pricked towards this mare who had just quenched her thirst in this stream. The sun, beat down directly upon her coat, heating her up a bit and starting to dry her coat. Gently, she lifted her head up to the sky, loving the radiating heat that was presented to her. "I don't believe we have met before. I go by Rasta, you are?" she said, gently nudging her face out in greeting as her forelock fell over her face.
----------Behind the post---------- . 181 words . written while watching One Tree Hill season eight I believe . Dude. Totally didn't know what to put. XD Muse is just about gone again. -finds away to return it- [/size]
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Post by whiskey on Jun 12, 2011 17:42:39 GMT -5
Whiskey!
Whiskey slurped the cool blue water from farther down the stream. He took slow gulps enjoying the relieving sensation that the water sent upon his body. To his surprise, a higher voice was heard from farther up the peaceful spring. He rose his head in alert and took one step towards the voice. A short pause, then a reply was heard. Whiskey raised his tail a tiny bit and perked his auds as he began a quick walk towards the noise. The radiant sun beat its rays on his chocolate back while walking towards the noise. He began to feel as though he were chocolate, melting, fallen victim to the great ball of gas's heat. He picked up a trot and pushed him self into the cool water. Ears still forward, tail still high, nostrils wide to the sent of the air. Two females. He thought to himself, given the upper pitched tones and sent of the strangers in the air. To this assumption he gave in to a lope as he eased himself out of the water. He began to slow as soon as the shimmer of two female horse coats came into view. Aiming not to frighten the mares he rested to a walk, careful not to appear too close.
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Post by Abba on Jun 12, 2011 18:27:17 GMT -5
Resounding Memories;;Rasta
Dreams of his crash won't pass
oh, how they all adored him, beauty will last when spiraled down
Rasta snorted, picking up her feet and rearing up slightly before backing up a few steps. In her daze of welcoming this new mare in her area she had missed the incoming vibrations of another equine. Her nares flared open immediately, taking in the scent of this four-legged creature. A stag. Oh, this was wonderful. She pinned her ears, snorting once and then dropping her maw to the ground, snorting at the grass causing it to breeze away and then stand alert again. Moving her gaze back towards the other mare she swished her tail, her ears still pinned due to the presence of a male. Most of them now annoyed her, though she didn't neccesarily hate them. She just, really prefered most of them to not be messing with her area. So far, most had decided that it would be simple to take over the place where she lay refuge to those who were injured, just because she was a mare. But, all of those had suffered defeat. Quietly she twisted her head around, looking in the direction of which the stag had appeared, even though it aided her none in looking at his build and such. She snorted once, flicking her tail once again at him before back to the mare, her ears loosening as she faced her. He had slowed to a walk, possibly to seem less frightening and take it over easier. She shook her head, only a little and not very noticable as she thought this over, not offering him the same greeting she had to the mare which stood in front of her. [/blockquote] ------------Behind the post------------ .289 words .Written while listening to the same song as the first post, Miss Murder by AFI .Muse is slightly back. xD It likes to start coming back and then disappear a lot obviously. .Don't wanna really go too much farther without Appy also. ;3 [/size]
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Post by aPPY on Jun 12, 2011 19:25:28 GMT -5
adalie!the playful one
»Adalie shook her head again, her ears flickering back and forth to dispel the water trickling down and into her mane. The mare in the river splashed water onto her face and then walked to the shore before replying. "It's fine. I was just messing around." she said before shaking her form to release the water from its cling to her pelt. The warm sun, out in the open now and not obscured by the trees, beat down on them both and began to dry their slick coats. "I don't believe we have met before. I go by Rasta, you are?" she asked, nodding in her direction by way of salutations.
»"Adalie." she replied, inclining her crown before stretching her neck down and rubbing her nose against her leg. Her head shot upward then, footsteps sounding along the bank as another horse appeared. She snorted and stepped back a few strides as the bay stallion walked towards them. Her attention swiveled back to Rasta as she reared up and backed, her nostrils wide and auds pinned. Her own ears flickered back and forth, confused at her reaction."Hello." she said cheerfully to the newcomer, her body relaxing and her head dropping to a more comforting level.
word count » 208
still wish it was longer. D:
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Post by Abba on Jun 12, 2011 20:22:34 GMT -5
Resounding Memories;;Rasta
So what's your evil attitude
when you got me spending my time pleasing you
Rasta snorted once, still wary of this stag. She really didn't trust any stag on her land, though she let them stay. Most of the time, she attuned them to spies, from her old mate's land and she played nice, even occasionally flirting. But right now, she just wasn't in the mood to deal with something of this matter right now. Of course, she would feel stupid if this stag was just a wonderer. And maybe she would just shut-up and allow this mare to talk to him. Yes, it might be best after all, she could just watch everything and moderate. She bobbed her head once in greeting to this mare which was called Adalie before pinning her ears once again at the stag, backing up a few more steps in order to keep her spacing from him reasonable incase if he wanted to draw nearer to the mare. Yes, she may not know him, but she just didn't want any stags near her, not right now, and not ever. A southwind blew in carefully frolicking with her forelock and mane, causing them to dance along her shoulder and forehead. Yes, she was so very tired of dealing with this. And she wondered, if she might ever allow some stag to get close to her again. Just, once, and they not break her heart as they had a million times over... [/blockquote] -------------Behind the Post------------- .252 words .Done while watching the most recent episode of Army Wives .Muse still sorta lingering. ;3 .Now, not to move ahead of people too much. o.o [/size]
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Post by whiskey on Jun 12, 2011 21:52:09 GMT -5
Whiskey!
Whiskey drew one ear back, confused at the offense he had made. He lowered his head in respect to the two gifts he'd just been offered by life. He took only one step closer, moving swiftly again trying not to frighten. The palomino seemed jittery and cautious. He thought letting the mares have a few looks at him would ease the acceptance. Letting them examine him, his posture, his eyes, letting them figure out his desire was none other that to befriend. He inhaled deeply and let out a formal greeting. "Afternoon, mares. May I have the honor of accompanying you?" His deep voice was quiet, soft. He perked his ears, anxious for a response.
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Post by aPPY on Jun 12, 2011 22:28:53 GMT -5
adalie!the playful one
» Adalie watched as Rasta nodded to her but pinned her ears in acknowledgement to the stag who had appeared. The palomino mare stepped back too, furthering the distance between her and the male. She was very confused by the way the mare was acting and it made her wary of the new arrival. Did her new acquaintance know this other horse? Was he someone she should be afraid of as well? Her tension level spiked and she stepped back as well, her ears flickering and eyes trained on the stallion. She stood rigid, her muscles trembling and ready to react at any moment. The other mare must know something about the stag to react in such a way, right? Unless she didn't particularly like stallions. She relaxed slightly, considering the possibilities of the latter, and thinking it was probably the more likely of the two thoughts.
» The bay stag lowered his crown, taking a quick step forward. He didn't seem too harmful as he stood there. She relaxed another notch, thinking that if he was bad, something either would have happened by now, or it was too late to have much effect on the outcome. Her eyes turned back toward Rasta, wondering why she had acted the way she did when he walked toward them. She could tell he was trying not to seem threatening toward them, and he didn't mean them harm. She returned her attention to him as he spoke for the first time. "Afternoon, mares. May I have the honor of accompanying you?" he asked carefully. She looked back at Rasta before answering him. "I don't mind," she said, "but I'm not so quite sure about her."
word count » 285
happier with this one. my posts are slowly getting longer. (:
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Post by whiskey on Jun 12, 2011 23:01:04 GMT -5
Whiskey!
Whiskey grew more comfortable as he eyed the stunning bay which stood closest to him. He examined the palomino next who appeared to still be in her alerted stance. He took a few steps closer, probably about 10 feet away now, looking for any signs that would show the space was too small now. He looked at the other mare for a response, the silence grew intense. "Why thank you, and how about you young lady? Do you mind if I join?"
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Black Thorns
« Store Keeper » 
First Official Store Keeper
A writer starts a book. A reader finishes it.
Posts: 254
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Post by Black Thorns on Jun 13, 2011 20:53:15 GMT -5
Hoofbeats pounded into the spring grass rythmically, the pace matching the beat of the great stag's heart. The sound was muffled by the lush ground, aiding to his cover- though, seeing as it was daytime, he had little cover to begin with. His breathing was labored- from this, one could guess accurately that the stag had been running and traveling for some time. His midnight shoulder was coated with deep crimson, sticking and matting his short pelt. The blood was not all his, however; some was of his own vein, though much was from another, the stallion of the herd he once considered himself a part of, the herd of his false mother. He had left the lands he wandered through- as Scathashoun was not yet of a herd, though he longed for such- to visit his mother. The herd had lived in the middle of the bordering lands to the west; he had had to travel quite a ways before he met those of which he was concerned about. His body had already been weary when he arrived- not inside the herd, no, he wouldn't do that without full strength, but just outside of the lead stallion's territory- and was added to emotionally when he could just make out the faint figures on the crest of a near hill. He had crumpled underneath the oak tree he had adored as a young colt that night, falling asleep too deeply and too quickly for his liking. though he anticipated a fight of some sort, he had no idea of the extent to which the battle would go. That morning he had risen, setting off into the heartland of the territory. They herd always seemed to return to that very location every night, and so he expected to meet them that morning. What he did not expect to find the herd as thin as it was- the herd consisted only of a new leader and four mares. At first he felt as if he had been mistaken- his herd that he had lived in as a child was populous, enough that there were semi-dominant other stallions in the mix to control the young fillies and colts and to herd in the mares. Now, it seemed, many had died in battles with other herds. His mother- or his fake mother, his deceitful, lying mother- had been one of many- now it appeared she was an old, worn lead mare. He loped down the hillside, the wind pulling back his tangled mane, knotting it and waving his dark tresses in the air of the rising sun. His tail moved like a banner, tangling up with other pieces of his long, split-ended tail. His arrival was over rocks and pebbles; his canter was far from being silent. The stallion perked up his head, ears turned to face the approching stag. The stallion's testosterone kicked in, his ownership and need to lead. He snorted, angry, at Scath, arching the muscular neck of a mustang. Scath ignored the stallion, passing him with little care as he approached his mother. The mare glanced up, her blue eyes matching with the deep, near-black of his orbs. He moved over to her, his lope slowing to a trot, then slowing further to a leisurely walk. The stallion moved about anxiously- though he could do nothing at the moment- Scathashoun was much larger than him, younger, and more fit. He was sure to lose had he challenged at that point; Scathshoun reasoned that was why the stag made no move to harm him. The mare tossed her head, her multicolored mane swishing back and forth over her spotted neck. He continued walking until his dark nose met hers, breathing and exhaling eachother's air, the scent of horses thickly surrounding the two of them. His head suddenly jerked up and away as she began to speak. Her first words were not "Scathashoun" or perharps, "Why are you here?" Her first word Scathashoun had heard spoken to him in years, the first word that slipped from between the lips of the female, was a simple, three letter word... "Son-"
"You are no mother of mine," Scath hissed through his teeth. "You are no mother of mine." The mare's expression was one of hurt, one of shock and one of a slight amount of anger.
"I was more a mother than any mare you had ever known!" She snorted, her tounge sharp and her voice just barely frantic.
"And yet, you are none at all," Scathashoun replied cooly, his voice edged with steel, sharp as a knife. His words seemed to act as blade, twisting and cutting his mother's heart, slashing open her small, mustard-seed hope that maybe, just maybe her "son" could forgive her. She lifted her head up into the air, her pose one of strength and defiance. For a moment, Scathashoun saw her as he once though of her as a young colt; he saw her as a fearless, strong mare with a will of her own, without a need to be led. The mare who he adored, who he was stunned to be around, much as young child may respect their mother. However, this image was shattered as he glanced at her again; her body was thin, wiry; she seemed to be a bag of old bones who could hardly stand for herself, let alone protect an entire herd. The mares around her, however, were even older; as he looked closer, he found a young filly nursing on the wet teats of one of them. Surely the labor must have been difficult for her; it wa a miracle that the filly was still alive. The stallion was young, however; he was, obviously, so in need of a herd to call his that he did not care about what mare he used to start off his herd. He simply chose mares who looked as if the stallion wouldn't mind losing and that he found out alone without a single glance towards their age. Scath barely pushed his strong forehead against his mother, simply to show her that, yes, he was able to do as he wished; to his surprise, she stumbled in the direction he had shoved. She, obviously, was even weaker than he believed, if she couldn't hold herself steady against that. Perhaps, of course, she was surprised by it... He was brought back to his surroundings by a low growl in his ear.
"Don't touch my mares," he snarled, the stallion posing himself to seem larger, more threatneing.
"I can touch your mares however I wish, colt," he retorted, the stallions locking eyes, neither of the two willing to back down from the tension, the fight bound to occur. The two circled eachother, each trying to appear stronger and more powerful, the tension rising and thickening, almost a heavy blanket surrounding the area. It was so until the young stag lashed out, rearing high into the air, slamming down and aiming out for a bite at the stag, of which Scath avoided.
"Don't. Touch. My. Mares."
Scath let out a loud cry of defiance, rearing and slamming his hooves down on the ground. His bite hit the stallion in the flank, blood welling up from the marks he left. The stallion retaliated with a strong kick, nicking Scath's shoulder; the stallion had misjudged distance. Scath had been in a fair number of fights; the shining scars across his pelt told so, though they were hidden somewhat. He bucked, kicking out at the stallion with both of his hind legs, aiming for the stallion's jaw. The stag whirled away from the kick, dashing out to deliver a blow to Scath's shoulder. It hit him hard, slashing opnen his skin, blood leaking down and staining his coat. Scathashoun reared, slammind down onto the hindquarters of the stag, matting his coat with crimson on the way down. The stallion crumpled, pain rushing through his new wound. He quickly regained his stance, coming at Scath's injured shoulder. In anger, Scath kciked out madly, a flurry of teeth and hooves flying. Both soon found themselves covered in a sticky red liquid, though not all was their own. The stag whinnied in defeat, his mares staring at Scathashoun with hatred, loathing; with disgust. Scath turned around, fleeing the scene without a look at his mother. He couldn't bear to see her face; though he tried to believe he had no emotional attachment to her, he couldn't help but feel for her; she was his mother, even though his only mother was false...
And so here he was, running through the border into the lands controlled by the Alpha of Terra Septentrionales; however, Scath had never seen an Alpha, nor heard of their looks or what they were named. His flints dug into the earth with each hoofbeat, his mind racing with his body. His scent trail was impossible not to scent, at last downwind from him; the blood he left behind obviously left his scent with him- though it could easily be confused with the scent of the stag he had battled. Each breath of air sent scratches down his throat, little blades of gasses slashing his throat, keeping it dry with their wickedness. He swallowed, attempting to coat his throat in some form of liquid, though it was helpless. He had ignored the ache in his throat for quite some time; he must acknowledge it now,save himself from dehydration later. The sweet rush of a spring greeted his auds, Scathashoun's parched throat crying out for it, just a simple taste. With this sweet sound came the scent of others, of mares and perhaps a stallion. His mind cautioned him; he was still wounded from a battle, and had not the willpower or strength to fight at the current moment. His weary body slowed down almost instantly to a silent walk, his mane falling over his neck, his tail brushing the long, overgrown grass. It seems to be that as springtime approaches, the grass suddenly decided that it must grow immediately. The herds had little complaint to this; the grass would fill their hungry, winter-starved bellies. The sound of rushing water became louder as he approached, as did the strength of the horse scent. He moved up closer, his throat seeming to grow drier by the second. As he approached, he could make out the body of a delicate Arabian-build mare, her golden coat shimmering in the sunlight. Her voice was almost musical, he thought, as she conversed with the other horses, oblivious to his presence. He couldn't take his eyes of of the mare, stopping dead in his tracks. He wanted her; he wanted her badly. She was unclaimed; he found no stag-scent upon her, no scent of another horse. Her scent called to him, pure and true. He wanted her so very badly... His courage picked up suddenly, and he moved foward quickly, nipping the mare's hindquarters suddenly and without warning.
--behind the post--
1857 words
My muse is just barely there. o.O
BUTT BITING FTW!
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