Just A Dream . [Thorny]

[paddeh]

I was thinkin 'bout her, thinkin 'bout me,
Thinkin 'bout us, where we gonna be...

Aria lifted her cranium, eyes scanning the horizon, the sun starting to peak over the casting mountains, reflecting off her exotic coat. She picked her way through the brush carefully, and proud. She lifted her tail, which dragged along the ground, yet it was still smooth as silk. Soft birdsong reached her ears, spring was nearing, and the temperatures were rising. It was some of the last days of winter, and she would finally be out of heat, annoyed by all the stallions that could find her easily. She shook her long mane, gliding forward silently, easily, her mane and tail flowing behind her in what seemed like slow motion. She rocked back on her hindquarters, rearing up briefly, whinnying out. She whisked her long silvery tail, her audits flicked forward. Oh how she could really use some company. Even if it was a high-testoserone stag, it'd be better then being alone. She paused, ears straining for a sound, yet not reaching any.

Aria lunged forward again, sharp small hooves digging in the melty snow beneath her. She burst out from the forest, coming into a small open clearing. The snow had melted, leaving behind dewy lush grass. Aria leaped forward, snatching the grass up greedily. She raised her head, munching the grass slowly, flicking her long silvery tail absent-mindedly, her eyes unfocused as she thought about the war. The war she was so destined to win. Yet, suddenly she just couldn't go on. She had snuck away and fled to the neutral lands. Rama had never paid any attention to her anyways, he most likely wouldn't notice. She snatched at the grass, ripping it from the roots. She watched the sun rise slowly, the sun becoming a wide range of colors, looking as if a fairytale. She dug at the ground, lowering her nose and sniffing the odd smell. She excused it and walked forward, her eyes drooping sleepily. Staying up all night never did her any good. She pinned her ears in annoyance, blinking. She lowered herself to the dewy ground, ignoring the chills it gave her, it was nothing compared to the winter storms. She rested her dished face against her powerful hind legs, curling up and closing her eyelids.

Aria looked at Ramaskith, almost level to his height, her eyes glinting, narrowed, her heart thundering in against her ribcage. He hissed, speaking, yet the words didn't register, she couldn't focus. Demanding her to do his bidding, as always. He twisted, kicking out at her, and she sidestepped easily, rolling her eyes. She sprung away, flicking her long silvery tail in his anger-filled face, and she bolted, stretching her long powerful legs, pulling away from his twisted form easily, snickering, he couldn't catch her, she was a bird, free, flying, independent. She felt as if she had wings, faster and faster, she leaped off a rock, reaching closer to the other one, yet gravity was taking over, pulling her down, fear flashed through her eyes, stretching, clawing the air. She connected with the ground, a loud crack echoing through her ears. She couldn't move, frozen... paralyzed. She tried to call out, her voice hoarse and weak, blood seeping across her pretty exotic pelt. Ramaskith stepped forward, a mad glint in his eyes, 'You didn't think, you could actually escape me did you?' A vicious laugh came from her parted lips, and she wanted to snap at him. Yet she couldn't, Rama stepped forward, striking at her ribs, her breathing becoming restricted, tight, painful. He circled her slowly, eyes scanning her dangerously, he stepped forward, looking down upon her. 'I cannot spare traitors. No matter how beautiful.' He gave an evil wicked smile, sarcasm dripping from his lips. Suddenly he reared up, landing upon her cranium, her blood splattering upon his filthy coat.

Aria's head shot up, panic flooding through her body, shaking. She exhaled, realizing she had fallen asleep. It was nearing noon, and she slowly stood up, watching the few birds that were starting to return, wondering why she had that as a dream. Did it mean something?

. 741 Words

Yehhh, a post. Idk, I was just trying to make it long.

Just A Dream - Nelly

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[Black Thorns]

Scathashoun could not tell if what he dreamed was a nightmare or otherwise.It was sweet, warm, safe, comforting, joyful as he slept... yet when he woke he felt a desperate longing, an ache incurable no matter how hard he tried to eradicate it with others, with bloodbaths and with devotion to a cause he didn't support. He hated those dreams- yet he couldn't keep himself from wishing they would occur each and every night. They were his few moments of peace, of rest that he ever got. Even here, even indulging himself in pleasures of the flesh, of the rage inside of him, he could find no comfort... So he sacrificed himself to these dreams, his addiction...

"Scath?"

The voice was soft, quiet, hardly even loud enough for him to hear. Yet that voice was impossible to mistake, and yet he couldn't believe his ears. Nobody else would dare call him anything but for his full title...

"Scath?" it came again, imploring, as if she wasn't even sure herself. "Scath, why are you all alone?"

He turned, slowly, hardly able to believe his eyes as he caught sight of her. She seemed almost to glow in the sunlight, pale strands of her mane illuminating in a halo. She was so small... and she bore no scars from whatever terrors he had caused her. None. She wasn't hurt... she hated him... why was she here? He furrowed his brow, trying to figure out why she chose now to appear to him. She laughed lightly, before reaching up to stroke his face gently. "You shouldn't be alone. It's not fair, is it?" Scathashoun shook his head, dipping it lower and nuzzling at her neck. His missed this, her soft skin, her warm body... He missed the beautiful melody of her voice, the soft caresses she gave him- and the innocence of which she gave them, expecting no reward. It wasn't for giving a stupid foal some stupid training he didn't know how to do, it wasn't falsified affections and kind lies that he was told. When she had loved him, when she had thought of him as an equal... He had never doubted the sincerity of her words. Not once.

"Rasta, I... Why are you...?" he struggled for the words, eventually giving up and resuming his tentative caresses. Losing her wouldn't happen again. He wouldn't let it happen...

"Shhh, love, does it matter? I'm here. That's all you need to worry about."

He woke slowly, that feeling of bliss surrounding him as he could almost feel the last traces of the cool, summer breeze and of her barely-there touch... Reality hit him hard, thrusting him into a cold world of hate and bitterness. This was where he belonged; he was bred a cold, ruthless murderer even if none in the herd had known it. Why else would their horses suddenly start to die vicious deaths after he left? Scathashoun had no love and no emotion but for hate and rage. He didn't need a soft, welcoming little mare to change that; he didn't want it changed. As long as he said so, perhaps he would begin to believe it himself.

He lifted himself from the ground, regarding the two sleeping ones near him. Vici lay curled up by his mother; both of which showed no signs of rousing in the near future. He cast a quick glance at them after contemplating his method of escape- and, after finding them still sleeping, set off in a steady trot to the place he though was safety. He could leave, head to the neutral grounds and not have to worry. He needed out. He needed to get out of this suffocating air... He couldn't breathe here. He couldn't heal.

Perhaps if he-

No. No. He couldn't do that.

Scathashoun shook his head, continuing his journey. He couldn't help but wonder why he even allied himself with Rama- likely because it was opposing Rasta, he believed, but he hardly spent any time at the battlefields. It wasn't as if Ramaskith was angry that he was gone or anything- he couldn't care less if Scath was there or not. Why did he feel this clinging loyalty, then? It would be best of him to sever all of the ties. Yet he was bound to Sheba- if he was, at the moment, MIA- who was, in turn, bound to Rama. It was pointless to believe he could simply ignore any ties to Rama- or to Rasta for that matter. He could lessen them, however- or perhaps he could simply let himself be alone again. Solitude wasn't altogether that horrible; he'd suffered it a million times before.

That idea was swept away as he caught sight of a sleeping mare in the lands. It was foolish of her, he had to say- even the neutral grounds were no longer safe. He stopped, watching from afar for a while. She stirred not, her slumber deep and likely difficult to disturb. Perhaps he would use her? Or kill her? Set her as an assassin? He had no idea. She would be no more than a temporary amusement. He had none but for throwaways...

She began to rouse, rising slowly from the ground. He hadn't noticed- but noon had already come to them. He smirked, tssing back his mane as he trotted into the clearing.

"It seems our sleeping one has finally decided to wake up! SHe should know that nowhere is safe for a deep sleep such as hers... not even here, where no horse is supposed to claim it. Fat chance that that'll stay active, during this war anyways. So, little sleepyhead, what's your name?" He didn't want to be too cruel, not now anyways. The last remains of Rasta- or, well, dream Rasta- still cling to him. Not altogether the best thing- but certainly good for this mare. He didn't care if she was beautiful, sweet, or ugly, wicked; he wouldn't let himself feel anything for her. Hatred, kindness- none. Nothing. She would die if she dared to threaten those emotions to stir within him.


--behind the post--
THERE. THERE IS YOUR POST PADDEH.
1022 words.

[paddeh]

Old friend, why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light.

'It seems our sleeping one has finally decided to wake up! She should know that nowhere is safe for a deep sleep such as hers... not even here, where no horse is supposed to claim it. Fat chance that that'll stay active, during this war anyways. So, little sleepyhead, what's your name?'Aria's ears flickered to the collected, cool voice. Her blue eyes darted over to the tall, dark figure. He seemed familiar. Maybe a bit too familiar. Yet, she couldn't remember. But she knew she had seen him before, somewhere. She went over his words again in her head. The war. Yes, the one she had snuck away from, from Ramaskith. She hated him, she didn't know what came over her that day when he had showed up. She wanted to kick herself for it.

"My name is pour moi de savoir, et vous pour découvrir." Aria said calmly, still a little wary of him. But as his eyes flashed as she used that language, she suddenly knew. It all came back to her. He was part of Ramaskith's army. But, he wasn't there now. Had he fled just like her? Away from Rama, the one who she couldn't bare. "Aaah, monsieur, forgive me," Aria said, whisking her long tail. It was summer. One of the worst times to be alone with a stallion you didn't know if you could trust. Her lips curled up into a small smile, her eyes watching him calmly, not giving anything away. Should she trust him? Play him? Work him, see if he submits like all the other lovestruck fools? No. She wouldn't do any of those. At least not yet.

"I fled from Ramaskith's control. I can not stand that that little power-hungry, asshole." Aria said, spitting his name and dragging out the last word. She tossed her forelock out of her eyes, watching him. Waiting for a response. Should she trust him with her name? It couldn't hurt- could it?

"My name, you ask? Well, I expect yours in return," Aria said, her eyes flashing to his as she requested his name, this tall handsome stranger- well, not really a stranger anymore.

. 438 Words

Comments- Replyyy ^^
Status- Finished
Muse- Medium
For- Thorny // Scathashoun

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[Black Thorns]

It would be utterly foolish for Scathashoun to deny his attraction to this... thing, but he did so anyways. Certainly she was gorgeous, but she had so very many faults. Why, he could spend his life picking out every detail about her that wasn't perfect! He wouldn't, though, not when he had other matters to attend to.

Her initial reaction to his question was to retort in the Ancient Language- trying to impress him? - that she wouldn't reveal his name. Her strong refusal seemed to sway, however, when her next answer slipped from her lips. His name? She wanted to know his name? Didn't they all, though? His toys never were satisfied with a nameless tormentor. Yet it seemed only t aid in causing their fear- why, names held power! The power to manipulate, to destroy, to crumble away... If everyone knew his name, its power would lessen until it was nothing but a wisp of smoke from what once was a wildfire. Ramaskith could never understand it. He practically painted it on his side, his warriors throwing about his title as if it was worthless. Scathashoun would never make that mistake. He would keep his warriors in the dark, only Sheba allowed knowledge of his name. Yes, that would keep his warriors in line. Fear of a nameless leader would force them to keep on the straight and narrow. He could only hope that his darling Sheba could be bothered to recruit warriors for him. And for her. He never remembered that she was in the plans, too.

liar liar pants on fire

Scathashoun rolled his eyes at her. Yes, nice Scath was certainly not the way to go. Perhaps he would have more of a pleasing reaction from the mare if he used harsher language. He moved closer, his hot breath burning into her skin. "Listen. I don't have to be rude, I don't have to be cruel. I love it, vertainly, but I don't have to be that way. You, however... I'm rather happy with the thought of striking you down at my feet. Dare you keep secrets from me? After all, I am leading the revolution against all alphas of Forma Silvestris... Perhaps you doubt me, foolish one, perhaps you think me incapable. How happy am I to prove you wrong, in the end. Ramaskith does not stand a chance- and his name no longer holds power. Do you understand that?" He pressed his face against her own- though she may be taller, his sheer aura crushed her own. Not to mention how low she held her head in comparison to his own odd posture... "If I was to tell you my title, I would lose some of that power. You, however, will not need to worry about keeping power in a name. I do. Thus it makes sense, then, that you share your secrets-" Scathashoun paused, pulling back to look her in the eyes, "And that I should keep mine."

Yet, as the summer breeze shifted through the air, one of her secrets was already being revealed.

Damn him for being so male.

[paddeh]

I can't decide if I'll let you save my life,
Or if I'll drown…

'Listen. I don't have to be rude, I don't have to be cruel. I love it, certainly, but I don't have to be that way. You, however... I'm rather happy with the thought of striking you down at my feet. Dare you keep secrets from me? After all, I am leading the revolution against all alphas of Forma Silvestris... Perhaps you doubt me, foolish one, perhaps you think me incapable. How happy am I to prove you wrong, in the end. Ramaskith does not stand a chance- and his name no longer holds power. Do you understand that?' He pressed his face against her own, their breath mingling. She was not intimidated by him, even if he held his head high in a odd posture, she was still taller then him, and she wasn't afraid of stallions.

'If I was to tell you my title, I would lose some of that power. You, however, will not need to worry about keeping power in a name. I do. Thus it makes sense, then, that you share your secrets… and that I should keep mine.' Aria snorted, looking him directly in the eyes. "Monsieur, I am not intimidated at all by you. And while I see your point, if I share my name I do lose some of my own power. Power of freewill, cause with a name its like sharing every secret you have, and the holder of that name can pull strings to manipulate one. I will not be a puppet, and you will not be my puppeteer. I have no trust in you… yet." Aria said, her voice unwavering, "Yet, if you tell me yours, I will tell you mine." She finished, swishing her tail and holding her head slightly higher.

Yet, something clicked in him, just the slightest change. Ah, so he had learned one of her secrets.

. 389 Words

Comments- Bleh. No fighting. I don't want a fight. She can reason xD
Status- Finished.
Muse- Medium/High
For- Thorny // Scathashoun

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