// limits

[aPPY]

Sonalane fell to the ground, low sobs coming from her mouth, developing into ear-piercing wails. His ears twisted backward and if he could, he would have moved away. Tears started to fall down her face and he was so confused. Why was she acting this way? He wanted to twist and roll over, to try and stand, but the smallest movement sent pain through his leg and sternum. "Sona?" he asked, cautiously, his voice fading into her screams and left unheard. "No, no!" she called, completely losing it. He forced himself to move, suppressing a shriek as he moved onto his stomach and the pressure pushed on his ribs. "Sona." he said angrily, his voice firm; though she wasn't listening. "You can't be... you can't be... You can't be broken... You are everything! Everything! I just wanted it b-back... I just want to feel w-whole aga-ain..." she stuttered through her words, trying to get them out and only barely succeeding. "Sona..." he said, more of a sigh than an actual word. His eyes closed and his head dropped, his nose brushing the dirt. It's not like he wanted to be laying here, helpless. He didn't want this, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now.

"Why? Why can't I have it again? Why must everything I know, everything I want and need and everything I could ever want to have crumble away into the wind? Why must you take everything from me and leave me with this? This broken shell? These broken promises? These shattered dreams? Everything! Everything! Oh nothing will be right again, never! I am gone and so if everything I want and will want... Everything I had and will have... everything I needed and still need! Gone!"

He sat silently through her monologue, staring at the ground. He didn't have the answers that she wanted. He certainly couldn't make everything good again, return it to the way it was. And she was foolish for thinking that returning would put everything back in place and nothing would have changed. Of course it was all gone, she left it to disappear. It was her fault she was so lost, not his. He had nothing to do with it. She chose to leave, she chose her path. She seemed to think otherwise though, as she stood and stalked towards him, her fury like a tangible thing in the air. His head turned and watched her approach, unsure what would happen next. "You! You did this! It's your fault! Everything is your damn fault!" she screamed at him, biting at him and drawing blood before he could recoil out of her reach. "Everything! EVERYTHING! You ruined it! If you would've never hit your head on that goddamned rock! If you would just get it together and get back to where we once were, nothing would have happened! Idiot!" He winced at her words, knowing that it was partly true. He couldn't have avoided falling that day, but he shouldn't have hidden away in the first place. But what else was he supposed to do? He had failed.

He coughed, letting out a wail as her blow hit him in the ribs, breaking free the previously cracked ones and breaking even more of the fragile bones. His world grew hazy with pain as he slumped back onto his side. The kick had easily broken through his already thinned skin, the white of broken bone peeking through the red of tissue and blood. He focused on his breathing, each small movement hurting so bad that his mind began to beg for him to just give up. His stomach twitched with pain and he whimpered, not sure how he was going to make it out of this one. He coughed again, blood starting to trail through his nostrils. The flow was slow though, most of the red liquid leaking out of his side. His eyes strained to look at that stupid buckskin mare, her lips moving but he couldn't make out the words. It didn't matter anyway; nothing she said mattered. It was all either lies or words of hate and anger. He relaxed his head and neck, his eyes slowly sliding shut. There was nothing he could do as the darkness of his unconsciousness swam up and devoured him. At least he couldn't feel the pain anymore.

// 577 words without any quotes [747 full]

lalala. he passed out.
idk whats going to happen now. D:

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[Black Thorns]

Ramaskith fell still, unconscious beneath her blows. She flattened her ears in annoyance, before beginning to contemplate his wounds. They were numerous, and likely to be life threatening; where the hell was a place to wash them out? She lifted her head, her tantrum finished and her sense coming back to her. She tried to look through the trees to find something, anything resembling water. Nothing. Not a drop. She sighed, the cool breeze of the autumn air running through her pelt and ruffling her mane. If he was dead, or was to die, who would take over? When they had been together he had told her that she should lead... Would that promise keep? She closed her eyes, swishing her tail in happiness as she thought again of the power of ruling over an entire land. Everything would be hers! Everything! She dipped her head low, resting her muzzle on his sluggishly bleeding shoulder and not caring how it leaked and stained her pelt.

"You won't forgive me, I know that; and I also know that I will not forgive you..." she began, "Though I also know that just the right blow will take you from this world, and give me everything..."

She sighed quietly, curling up next to his unstable body. Her head rested on his barrel and shoulder, legs twining with his as warm crimson trickled over her, lulling her into the sweet oblivion of sleep.



--behind the post--
short. and difficult to reply to.
this is what you get. o.o
DEAL.

[aPPY]

Ramaskith's mind ran rampant as he fell into the darkness, floating in a numbness where he felt none of the pain. First they were memories as a foal, and the games he played and the fights he had. He was always a fighter, and a good one too. He had been able to see the slightest muscle movement and anticipate his opponent's next move, easily defeating who ever dared to challenge him. Though, he had his leadership qualties as well. Some might have called him cocky, not really knowing him personally and only seeing the bad parts, but he was always quite nice to others as well. He would help them improve, taking it easy when someone with little experience chose to step up, and encouraging them to get better and even giving them tips. He had always been one for someone to look up to, even if the other mothers weren't fond of how he knocked around with the others, pushing them to the ground and leaving scars on their young hides. There had always been a lot more than met the eye.

The memories fast forwarded, only skimming the sections where he was taken away, becoming an Alpha, meeting the others for the first time. Of course, they had been of different herds, bringing all of Forma Silvestris together under the rule of them all. Immediately he formed a dislike for the other male leader, as well as a distaste for the females. Why should they have to share their leadership? Wasn't the whole point in being a leader was leading alone? Making the decisions solely by yourself? They could never agree, or at least he was never on the same page as the others. He had a different mindset than them, and he was constantly clashing heads with them. It was infuriating. He was chosen to be a core element to this base of leadership, yet it was as if him opinions didn't matter. He grew angry, soon enough deciding it was time he did something about it. Of course, that's when he ment Sonalane.

She had been part of a side herd, one that remained strict allies to his own. She wasn't much younger than him, only a few months, and he had heard from others that she had shown great promise as a warrior as a child. Play fighting as he had as a young colt, ending the battles on top and leaving nothing to the imagination. She entered his ranks among the others that grew up this way, strong and experienced fighters already, with an eagerness to expand their abilities. He trained them, and then he sent them into battle against his enemies forces. They were no match for his ranks, though there were many of them. The fighting would go on for months and months, loosing lives and destroying them. Sona, of course, always seemed to escape her mortality, easily rising in ranks and ending up at the top. She was one of very few that had been there from the beginning, and therefore one of his most trusted warriors. She wasn't stupid, she knew how to fight and how to stay alive; she had proved it. Though she was young, just as he was, and they all had room for error.

Putting a mare at the top of the food chain was probably a bad idea in the first place, but a young mare was even worse. At the time it had seemed like a good enough choice, based purely on skill and success on the battlefield. So it was then that as he was discussing battle tactics for the next full force attack; in the beginning of spring, and she distracted him. What was he to do? She was practically begging him to. Though she was angry with him after realizing what that had meant. He ignored her, focusing on more important matters and just making sure she didn't happen to sneak off and try and fight anyway. That would be unacceptable. Though, both of the foals she bore were duds, easily killed off by their playmates before they even had the chance to get the taste of battle. It was strange, for their children should have been the opposite, more like them and conquering. He grew angry again, wondering if perhaps Sona wasn't worthy any longer and that she wouldn't provide the heir he needed.

Memories continued to pass through, brief images of fighting and battles, mixed with colorful sections of anger and training, his voice echoing off the faraway mountains. Heated words with Sona, exchanges from the both of them, blows thrown back and forth. They had never really beed a harmonious pair, he saw, not quite understand how she meddled her way into the position she did. And the end of the war, of course, was usually included in most of these little flashbacks. A reminder of his failure, repeating over and over. How had things gone so wrong? The plan had seemed flawless when he had initiated it, and once things were said and done, there were so many flaws. So many holes that the enemy found and used to bring him crashing back down to reality. How was he supposed to come back from this? There was no coming back without a complete and utter slaughter. There would be no rhyme or reason to the killing now; just everyone who stood in his way. They would all suffer. He only wished he could prolong their suffering, but dying quickly would assert his dominance and convice others to join him quickly before he destroyed them as well. It was a good plan, and he hoped it would work this time. He had the element of surprise on his hands, the odds seemed to be in his favor. Though, with these things it was impossible to determine the outcome.

The images transitioned into newer occurences. Wandering aimlessly and confused, unable to remember anything about his past other than his name and knowing that he wasn't allowed to cross the boundaries. An unexplained hatred for a stallion he had never met before; whom he had no name for or an image in his head to recognize the crature. Dealing with the crazy, bloodthirsty voice in his head that drove all of his actions for quite a while because he didn't know what else to do. Meeting Sheba, her escaping his wrath and making it out alive, and then again just recently. Coming into contact with Sonalane, the insanity of her words and the fear that they could possibly be true. And they must be because these memories were playing in his head and everything seemed to match up. The earthquake, and then the fight. His anger at the realization that she had left him to fend for himself and having no way to fully come to terms with that. Not being able to kill her and letting her choose to leave. Though, she didn't and now here he was, unconscious and reliving it all in his mind. Yet another failure to add to the list, and a quality he supposed he didn't possess: reading others. He could only foresee what his opponent would do if they give a hint physically. When it came to matters of the mind and decisions that they made that affect himself, he was at a loss. He wasn't a mind reader.

----------------------------------------

Ramaskith was beginning to wake up. It was several hours later, all sunlight gone from the land and only the moon and the stars to guide those who were lost. His eyes slowly opened, fraction by fraction. His body ached all over, the pain sweeping back and crashing down on his like a wave in a storm. The air was cold, a small breeze blowing through the clearing he lay in, whipping at his still open wounds. He sucked in a breath, his body convusing with shivers. Even though Sona lay next to him, her head resting on his body and her legs twisted up with his own, he was still very cold. Her body warmth was doing nothing for him. He shifted his head, taking a quick glance around the clearing, wondering absentmindedly if anything was lurking in the shadows. He tugged at one of his legs, trying to pull it out of this mess Sonalane had caused. Though, the motion strained at sore muscles and torn ligaments and he immediately froze, the tension causing sharp pains. He slowly let out a breath, letting his body go limp. He couldn't move without hurting anything! This was ridiculous! He then quickly snapped his head around, biting into the stupid mare's neck and then letting his head thud back to the ground as he waited for that pain to fade away.

"Get off me, you bitch," he hissed, all clever language lost to him as he tried to pull away from her. He didn't want to be anywhere near her, but he was so conflicted. Who else was he going to get any help from? He doubted she was going to offer any as it was, but she was the only one that knew he was here. Without her, he'd definitely be dead; probably dog chow. He squeezed his eyes shut as the world tilted and spun, nausea causing his stomach to twist. His ears twisted backward, his tail slashing at the air angrily. He hated being so helpless! It didn't suit him at all. He shivered again, his teeth clacking together a few times before he forced himself to remain still, his skin twitching. He let out a slow and steady breath, his eyes cracking open and straining to look at that stupid buckskin mare. "This is all your fault," he said, his voice a tad raspy and the words followed by a sneeze and a cough. He moaned, blood beginning to slowly trickle from his barrel again. He knew he was running dangerously low on blood supply, having been laying in a pool of it all night and the dizziness that was present in his head. He didn't have the energy to be angry any longer.

He didn't know what to do anymore. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he was a little scared. His chances of living were looking slimer and slimer the longer he lay there, even though he could heal rather quickly with the effects of the potion, his wounds now wouldn't have the time to heal because they would kill him before then. And actually getting up and moving someplace safer - warmer - was pretty much impossible unless he could get up. And he knew he couldn't. He was stuck here, in the middle of a forest, completely exposed to anything that happened to wander by, and defenseless. All except for the akhal-teke who could choose any moment to get up and leave him like she had done already. Yeah, he was just a little bit afraid he wasn't going to make it. Though the fact sat with him, in the back of his mind, he wasn't too worried about it. There wasn't much he could do to change his fate. Most of it rested in the hands of Sonalane, and with that note, things didn't look so good. Though, she hadn't left yet, so that must have counted for something he guessed. He sighed again, half wishing the spirit was there to give him some sort of advice. He wished he could return to that place of numbness again, his body protesting with each breath he struggled to take to keep himself alive. Numb sounded like a really good thing to be right now.

And what would happen if he died? Sonalane would probably take over in his place, happy to have her own land to rule. For that reason, he couldn't die. No one should lead but him. He had believed that from the very beginning. So he couldn't just leave the spot open for that stupid mare to take. But how could be possibly trust her if her future rested on his life or death. She had to know that if he died, she'd have everything, so why didn't she kill him already? Was she just biding her time? It didn't make any sense to him. It wasn't as if she actually cared for him. She never had. It hadn't been that sort of relationship in the least. He sighed softly, barely an exhale of breath, and winced as his expsed ribs ached. He was stuck in such a horrible position. What was he supposed to do? A part of him just wanted to give up, to stop failing at everything he tried. Of course, the other part, a very large part, was yelling at him to grow up and face the consequences of his actions. To get up and move on, and try again. And if he failed, then to deal with it and try something else. Which part was he supposed to listen to? One was very tempting, the much easier path, one without much thought. The other though, was going to be difficult, but the most rewarding. His eyes cracked open, looking at that stupid buckskin mare and wondering what her intentions were. Did she plan on killing him and taking his place? Was she actually going to help him? Or was she going to turn and walk away like she had that day. He closed his eyes again, twisting slightly and pulling his head against his chest. How had he become so helpless?

// 2302 words

:o my longest yet! :D

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[Black Thorns]

His heart pumped stubbornly, stubborn as he was, refusing to let him give up and fall into the promise of death. She could feel it as she lay there, that moment when there was not yet sleep but she was not yet in consciousness. She was trapped in those moments, able to hear, feel everything, yet utterly unable to move her limbs. His blood flowed thickly, at times threatening to slow. So warm... she was so warm. His breathing was hushed, even, taunting her and pushing her deeper, further into that unconsciousness as his beating heart faded from her touch, as his lungs were no longer heard, and his warmth no longer touched her.

She slept a night unlike one she had ever before, each moment of dreaming that she could recall ever the more vivid, more real, than she could have ever imagined them being. In those dreams she could hear, feel, taste, see everything...Memories, things that never had happened or would ever happen to her in her lifetime drifted through her subconscious. Some things she recalled were things she had never hoped to remember... and some she never hoped to forget.

The first thing she dreampt of was her first kill. She was young, very young, though old enough to understand what she was doing. She heard only the cheering of her peers, shouting for her to finish him, and the shouts of those who were trying to get the bloodied colt she fought to fight back. She struck out at him with all of the force she could muster, shoving at his ribcage and feeling the youthful bones splinter and break. They shouted at her, screaming out cries that she was doing it wrong, aim for his neck! Aim for his head! The colt struggled beneath her, and she felt it then. That need, that want, to see him stop moving, to feel him grow still and cold beneath her. She had been told to want it... but never had she wanted it truly before. She struck out at him, hooves snapping a neck, and to make sure, pounding in his skull. The crowd roared, some upset over the loss of the colt, but a great many overjoyed at her victory. She heard none of it, breathing hard and standing over the cooling body. The life had been gone, gone because she made it so, and she wanted it again. And again, and again! The older ones of the herd nodded at her, her mother lipping once at her in pride. She felt whole. They loved her when she killed... she loved to kill... she must do it! So she did; though one would think the herd should diminish, the massive herd seemed always to have plenty more foals to raise and groom to be the perfect killer.

A perfect killer killed not because they had to, but for the sheer joy of the loss of another's life. They mastered the art. They were the kill...

Years later. The war was imminent, each horse of the East itching to feel that euphoria over and over again. She trained, practiced, with such urgency and such need to perfect every aspect of her technique that many thought she was insane. She needed this. She needed this win. He was everying; the Lord would lead them all into a glorious new world, into a world where everyone not following the Lord would tremble in fear of them. She wanted only to serve him. She wanted only to follow him and know that they were the royal court and he the king... They who opposed them would be scum beneath their hooves! Losing was not an option; the Lord Ramaskith would win. He would be the only one who ruled Forma Silvestris. The only one... And one of them would be his queen; one of them would be able to stand by his side and command troops. She, like so many others, wished to be that one... But did she really want that? She wasn't sure. She wanted the power, the control... but Ramaskith, her Lord; he could wait.

At first she believed that, believed it entirely; but as the war raged on, as she advanced through the ranks, she began to grow into her emotions. SHe saw him as her lord; and she saw him as her teacher; overall, she found him an attractive, strong, stable stag. He was the focal point of her world. She had grown up believing in him; and she believed in him still. He would bring them to glory; and now, above all, she wanted to stand at his side; she wanted to be his equal, his mate, to command and direct all of those below her. She wanted, needed, craved that absolute power. He would bring her that power; she would take it with all of the enthusiasm she could. She would use that power, she would reign it in and, one day, overthrow her Lord. He would someday bow before her; someday he should stand in the masses and part as she moved. She would rule. She would be the ruler of Forma Silvestris. Every ounce of power would be hers... Every heart would beat for her, each breath would happen only if she wanted it to hapen. She would be the Queen- no, no! SHe would be their Goddess...

Now. This couldn't be true, wasn't true, she couldn't see it happening! She dreampt that she woke and he was still, cold, she drenched in his blood. She couldn't do anything, couldn't move, only able to lay there with him. As she lay, time passed; days, weeks, his body rotting and being eaten away as she lay, still. Her coat was a rusted bown, her body thinning, thinning, thinning away until near every bone in her body was visible. He was nothing but a skeleton; she a living one. Suddenly, a strung burst of wind came, carrying away each of his bones. She let out a cry as the wind carried her away, twisting in the air as her brittle mane and tail fell out, as her skin and fleth peeled away, as she became a skeleton of her own... Yet this skeleton bled, and this skeleton cried out in pain as she was torn apart. This skeleton could feel, could sense every time she was devoured by the microorganisms eating away at whatever bones she had left. She was dead, and she could feel it. He was dead, yet her Lord whispered to her. "You deserve this... You have done this... So you shall suffer an eternity of pain, and when there is none left, you will live forever in the bodies of the dying, and feel that horror of death in each moment of your eternal afterlife. This is your punishment, ma chere; make the most of it!" and she heard that laughter, that terrible laughter! She could only scream, and scream, and he laughed, and feel that dying forevermore...

-----

She awoke before he did, and to her delight, she felt that stubborn thudding of his heart, heard that even breathing. She shifted her head, nuzzling at his withers and brushing her teeth along the hollow of his neck. Most of his wounds had scabbed over, and he was healing. He would heal.

Did she want that? She eally didn't know. She wanted the power. How would she have that power, though, if he had no standing before she killed him? Did she even really want to kill him? Somewhere inside of her she knew she wanted him; that she loved him to some degree.Prehaps she loved him so much that she must kill him; that her love prohibited any chance of success she could possiby have. She would rule, but he would stop her from it. Maybe she didn't want that, though; maybe she wanted that guidence of someone with more power than her. THose years after she left she was still guided, she had always been guided. He quided her even when he wasn't there... She closed her eyes, trying to think. It was so hard to think with him there, even as he slept. She could sink back into the past with him there, could pretend that everything was as it once was. She could act like he still loved her.

She could love him, and feel no regret.

To her disappointment, the stag began to wake from him too-perfect sleep.

"Get off me, you bitch. This is all your fault," he hissed, churning from nausea as he snapped at her. TIme to play a flippant one, one who didn't care. She sighed, lifting her body off of his and detangling their intertwined limbs.

"All right then, I suppose I should wash myself off. You should, as well- that is, if you could move." She shook herself off, moving away to start to clean off her bloodied pelt. Her clumped tail swayed sensually behind her, as she laughed at his inability to move. She continued until she was sure he was out of hearing range, her steps becoming heavier, her laughter fading away. The water lapped at her legs, carring away rusted red flakes and revealing their shining buckskin. She walked further in, submerging her entire body as she fought to cleanse herself. She needed to be free, to let herself free of the chains she couldn't feel. Each bit of blood washed away, each part of her beauty pulling through. That seemed to be the thing that worked for her, her beauty. When she found those she wished to kill, she tempted them with beauty. It was her beauty that brought her to be Ramaskith's mate; a young, lustful Rama cared not only for her battle skills.

Rama. Everything was about Rama. Why wasn't it about Sona? Why couldn't she do things for herself? Though, admittedly, Sona was selfish; she didn't care for Rama, she cared for how Rama coul.d help her. It was what she wanted, what she needed. Not others.

She didn't mind it at all.

Slowly, she meandered back to where Rama lay, lifting her head and tossing her mane, her tail swinging with each step. Oh, she could pretend, She could make him believe that she didn't care. Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't. How should she know? She was young, she was stupid, she wanted power and would do anything to get it. "Well, good to see you're still lying on the ground," she said, snorting at his face. "You look disgusting. So. Do you need to get up and wash yourself? I can help the oh so wonderful Ramaskith should he admit that he needs it. Or, perhaps he could die here. I surely wouldn't care either way." She circled him slowly, dropping her head down to him and tugging gently at his ear. "Perhaps we could match scars," she mused, flicking her damaged ear, "You should look rather handsome, don't you think? Or maybe not..." She moved away from his ears, nuzzling his cheek.

"You stop me from getting where I want to go, you see. It would be wise of me to be rid of you. However," she steped away from him, cocking her head in thought, "I won't. I'm not altogether a wise person. So, my Lord," she mocked him, "Do you need any help?"


--behind the post--
EWEWEWEW
I hate the post
It feels rushed. but I got impatient. so.
and rather frustrated
just under 2k

[aPPY]

"All right then, I suppose I should wash myself off. You should, as well- that is, if you could move." She laughed at him as she walked away and he just closed his eyes, settling deeper into the ground and wishing she would just leave him alone. Though, his wish was short lived when she came trodding back to him, "Well, good to see you're still lying on the ground," he felt her breath on his face and he twisted away, his head thumping back to the ground. "You look disgusting. So. Do you need to get up and wash yourself? I can help the oh so wonderful Ramaskith should he admit that he needs it. Or, perhaps he could die here. I surely wouldn't care either way." He opened his eyes, looking up at her as the water trailed down her pelt. "I do not care whether I am dirty or not," he huffed, moving his head again and closing his eyes. She started to walk again and he felt teeth graze his ear. His head shot up, teeth clacking in the air. "Perhaps we could match scars," she said and he turned away, not wanting to play her stupid games. "You should look rather handsome, don't you think? Or maybe not..." This time he felt her touch his cheek and he shifted his head away again, opening his eyes to glare at her. He didn't want her touching him.

"You stop me from getting where I want to go, you see. It would be wise of me to be rid of you. However," she moved away, finally, tilting her head to the side as she thought about what she was going to say next, "I won't. I'm not altogether a wise person. So, my Lord," she spoke mockingly, staring down at him, "Do you need any help?" Ramaskith sneered, looking away from her. He wasn't going to accept help from anyone, let alone her. "I don't want your help, Sona," he said, carefully shifting his weight on the ground. He was perfectly happy here, waiting for his body to mend itself, if it ever did. He didn't know how much his abilities could take, and whether he had reached his limit or not. He sighed softly, closing his eyes and listening to the trees rustle in the wind. He wasn't going to accept help from the very person who was thinking about killing him, no matter that she said she wasn't going to. He couldn't trust her; he wouldn't trust her.

Yes, he was quite content here on the ground. The dirt wasn't so bad. He snorted, blowing dust across his skin. So, it wasn't ideal but it'd have to work. He heaved a sigh, grimacing when his lungs expanded and contracting, fresh blood trickling from his wounds. "Damn," he whispered, carefully relaxing his tense muscles. He peeked through his lids, seeing Sonalane still standing nearby. "Why havent you left yet? You don't really care if I live, so just go." His eyes narrowed at her, feeling stupid and insignificant there on the ground. He was so helpless, couldn't she see that? She was asking him to stand, though he truly wanted to, he wasn't sure he could manage it even with help. He was pretty sure he couldn't look as if he could stand up, so why was she insisting on it? If anything, standing could be a very bad thing, opening up any of his wounds that might have already healed and causing him to loose even more blood than he already had. That wouldn't fare very well. The dizziness from before had gone away and he certainly didn't want it back.

"What will happen if I die?" he asked, quietly, his voice thoughtful. What would happen? He certainly didn't have any plans, and it's not like he had an heir. Well, except for the offspring Sheba was carrying, but she wasn't anywhere to be found at the moment. He glanced over at Sona, but then looked away. He didn't really want to know what she was going to say, at least he told himself that he didn't. It didn't matter what she thought anyhow. She wanted him dead, had from the beginning, it was perfectly clear. And how did he feel? He wasn't sure. He still didn't even really know who she was, though he was inclined to say that he wished the same for her as she him. Considering the position he was in right now was because of her, he had good enough reason to wish her dead. Though, he didn't know if he could bring himself to actually kill her. She was the only key he had to his past, other than various enemies across Forma Silvestris. How was he supposed to do anything without knowing the past? He just couldn't.

// 710 words

Rescue by Seabird.
yeah.

hrm. i guess the post isn't too bad.

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[Black Thorns]

"What will happen if I die?"

Her heart seemed to stop in her chest, her breath caught. Ramaskith dead- it was an impossible thought, incomprehensible. She knew what had been promised before- she would follow him, do as he had done; she would rule them all, rule over them as fear of her pierced their hearts, as sheer terror gripped their souls and forced them to do as she wanted. What would be happening now? Now, when he held no more power than she? Though she would never admit it, she knew she had no more power than any horse she came across. She had combat skills- that's all. She knew battle strategies. She didn't know how to raise an heir, how to persuade anyone to follow her, how to lead without the aid of her Lord, her King.

A king? Ramaskith was no king. He was merely another stallion, one hungry for power and one with such charisma and intimidating aura that it was near impossible not to see him as a king. If he was no king, then she was no queen- no goddess.

"You know what will happen if you die, Lord," she said, her tongue slipping and caressing the familiar title- a title which no longer applied. "You die. I lead. It's as simple as that."

Lies.

She sighed. "Not that simple, really. We had a plan, before... this... but I assume that plan is now void. With your current standing, I believe that no one save for the other Alphas would really notice your absence. Perhaps we would drag you to the river, or leave you here to rot. The three others would choose a new leader for the East- which I doubt would be me. They aren't too fond of rebels, of those who wish to take over everything. Of course, the East would continue to change until it never resembled what you once had." She refused to look a him as she spoke, eyes lowered to the ground and head turned away. She lowered herself to the ground beside him, careful to keep her distance.

Did he love her? Did she love him? She had every opportunity to strike him dead and did not- though that showed nothing but that she did not hate him. He could have killed her- he would have, too. He didn't love her. She knew he didn't. So why did it cause her heart to break every moment she thought of it? Why did it cause her nights to be filled with longing? She didn't want to love him. Why couldn't he leave her alone? His death would only bring her more pain, he would only haunt her every moment.

He would laugh... He would laugh if he knew, he would snort at her and tell her... Oh she didn't know what he would tell her! He would tell her something terrible. He would tell her of his hatred...

He didn't care for her, and so she shouldn't care for him- yet she did! Oh how she did! Yes, she should care only about herself. She should care only for taking over Forma Silvestris. he would only get in her way...

She turned to him, standing back up. "Look, Rama, I know that you need help. It's a pretty obvious fact. I'm sucking up my fat pride and offering help, so take it- hell, kill me if you want, I doubt you could currently."

If he could, she would finally end her suffering. He would no longer plague her dreams- and she would finally rest. After years of sleepless nights, Sonalane would finally rest...



--behind the post--
A little over 600 words.
BLEH.
I had no idea what to post. Thus, this happened.
jeeesus christ, suuuperstar! Do you think you're what they saaay you aaare?

[aPPY]

"You know what will happen if you die, Lord," he turned to look at her as she talked, his gaze piercing and hard, "You die. I lead. It's as simple as that." He rolled his eyes and shifted away. She would never be accepted as leader of these lands, no matter how often she told herself otherwise. If he truly did die, the other would more than likely either elect someone more suitable for the role, or divide his land between themselves. Perhaps even bring the whole country together again, now that the threat was gone. She sighed though, amending herself.

"Not that simple, really. We had a plan, before... this... but I assume that plan is now void. With your current standing, I believe that no one save for the other Alphas would really notice your absence. Perhaps we would drag you to the river, or leave you here to rot. The three others would choose a new leader for the East- which I doubt would be me. They aren't too fond of rebels, of those who wish to take over everything. Of course, the East would continue to change until it never resembled what you once had."

He looked back at her as she spoke, wondering why the sudden change in tone and demeanor. He didn't understand why she seemed so solemn with that fact. If anything, with him out of the way, she could try to take over herself; to do what he was trying to. So what if she wouldn't automatically receive his position? He was surprised he even still held one, shouldn't they be able to take it away? Though, maybe it was some sort of strategy of theirs, let him keep what he has for now so that the chance of him wanting more will be less. Yeah, right. Sonalane then dropped to the ground near him, though far enough that there was no chance of her touching him. He didn't like the closeness and wanted to move away from her. She angered him, and then his anger and frustration would turn to pain as he tried to physically do something, and he wasn't liking pain all too much right now. He wished he could inflict pain on her, but he was useless right now. Just laying there, on the ground. He wished the voice was still there, to tell him what to do. What was right. It had always known what was the right thing to do, and didn't care about the condition they were in. Though maybe it couldn't have gotten them out of this mess, it was the one that wanted to fight with Sona in the first place. He sighed softly, a light exhale of breath.

Sona shifted, pushing herself to her feet. Well, that was quick. "Look, Rama, I know that you need help. It's a pretty obvious fact. I'm sucking up my fat pride and offering help, so take it- hell, kill me if you want, I doubt you could currently." She seemed so..broken down, and it disgusted him. She appeared so weak and just... tired? That wasn't quite how to describe it, but it was all his own tired mind could think of at that moment. He didn't want her pity though, or her help, or anything from her. No matter how much he knew he really needed it. He could feel his cells trying to mend themselves and the damage she had done to him, but he knew it would be a slow, long road to recovery. He wasn't invincible. He sighed, louder this time. His voice was just as defeated as hers when he spoke, just utterly tired. "Sona... I can't move more than maybe a couple of feet, let alone allow you to help me stand," he glared up at her shining buckskin form, "I don't want to stay here laying on the ground, it's not very comfortable, but it seems as if I have no choice at this point." He shifted slightly, wincing and then settling back against the ground. The hard surface was pressing against his skin and surely causing bruises but he couldn't turn over either. Everything hurt too much.

He coughed twice, groaning as his lungs expanded and contracted. He shivered, pulling his head to his chest and his legs up close to his barrel. Perhaps he should go back to sleep, rest a little while longer in that place where there was no pain. Though, with that thought he became wide awake, cursed to suffer through his punishment. The sky began to rumble, soft grey clouds floating in the air. Ramaskith cracked an eyelid open and annoyingly looked up, seeing the billowing forms. He snorted softly, tucking his head in closer. At least if it rained his wounds would be clean, though he would probably get sick. Lovely. He tried to will his cells to multiply faster, to mend his body, but it wasn't working. He shivered again as he felt the temperature dropping ever so slightly as the storm began to roll in. As if things weren't bad enough, now he was going to get rained on, and most likely end up sick because of it. Oh how the world liked to punish him.

// 741 words

I don't know. just a bunch of mumbo jumbo.

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[Black Thorns]

"Sona... I can't move more than maybe a couple of feet, let alone allow you to help me stand," he said, glaring at her, "I don't want to stay here laying on the ground, it's not very comfortable, but it seems as if I have no choice at this point." She glanced up at the sky, rolling with thick, dark clouds, for a moment before looking back at him. A chilling, bitter breeze nipped at her skin as she lowered her head.

"I never told you what kind of help, Ramaskith." Her breath blew out in white tendrils as she spoke, clinging to her pelt and freezing. She touched the wound lightly with her muzzle, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to make this work- this thing she was new to, this thing that she wasn't even sure how it worked. Sweat beaded on her, clear droplets suspended by the freezing temperatures. She opened her eyes as she worked, legs trembling with exhaustion. She watched in wonder as this new ability, something she still couldn't comprehend, worked before her. The bleeding stopped. Bones healed themselves, fusing back stronger and better than before. Muscle and fat sewed across the gaps, and skin worked its way over the newly formed mass. Shining, pale fur grew over it. Not a mark was left there, not a single scar where a crisscrossing mass of them should have been.

Nothing.

Her legs collapsed under her, entire body shuddering with the energy needed to complete her task. Her breathing was labored, the cold air scratching at her throat. Yet somehow she felt relaxed, comfortable, content as the snow began to fall. In moments it began to fall heavier- heavier- until she could hardly see through the thick sheet of falling flakes. "Come, Lord, it's best that we get to someplace warmer, someplace where we won't become snowdrifts."

--behind the post--
pathetically short. xD
HE IS HEALED. .O.

[aPPY]

"I never told you what kind of help, Ramaskith," she said, reaching out to him. He tried to recoil but as her skin touched his there was a spark of eletricity and the pain dissolved. His eyes widened as he turned to look at her, seeing the gaping wound heal before his eyes. He winced as he felt his bones pop back into place, the cracks healing and splinters being extracted from his lungs. The tissues reformed, muscles mending and the dermal layers stretching over the wound, essentially healing it without so much as a mark. He felt his hip shift as the greenstick fracture was mended, osteoblasts working in overtime to make new bone. He breathed deeply, feeling his lungs expand and contract without pinching or tearing. Sona shuddered, falling to her knees and breathing heavily with the effort it had taken to heal him. He twisted, staring at her. Where had she gained this power from? Had she raided one of the other Alpha's homes and stolen the potion that allowed one the ability to heal others?

"Come, Lord, it's best that we get to someplace warmer, someplace where we won't become snowdrifts." Ramaskith scoffed, rolling his eyes. Like he had to anything she said. Though, he did quickly get to his feet, immediately snapping at the buckskin figure. "Don't go think you're important just because suddenly you have these abilities," he growled, turning and walking off into the trees. At least he was finally off that wretched ground and had the ability to move without pain. Sona's healing abilities may prove useful during his attack but he had done just fine without one before. The fact that she could help wasn't going to keep him from striking a blow against her again though. He snorted softly, the snow hitting against his pelt and quickly melting away with the heat of his body. His breath curled around his nose as he exhaled, frosted air. Now that he was healthy and winter was here, he must set his plan in motion. The followers he did had needed to be assessed of their abilities and trained as fast as possible. And then, then he would strike against the Other, fast and hard. He would be nothing but victorious. He glanced over his shoulder as he prepared to canter away, "Aren't you coming? My enemies are waiting ever so patiently for our arrival." He smiled, turning and leaping forward without a reply. He didn't care whether she followed or not, but he was certainly ready to get out of this place; his prision.

// 414 words

new thread, yes?
time for training and warrrr. >:DDDDDD

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