!! Miss Murder

[Abba]

Rasta's whole body was writhing in pain as the log was beginning to get shoved off of her. "Im... Sorry... Rasta" he gasped and continued shoving at the smoking piece of lumber that was burning and scratching at her thin pelt. "It. It hurts" she whispered meekly every ounce of energy left was spent trying to pull herself free from its clawing grasp against her back. Snorting once she was beginning to feel suffocated, unable to get much air in her lungs and she pinned her ears at this. Finally, the log was rolled off of her back, showing the extent of the cuts completely covered in ash. She gasped for air the minute she could allowing her head to drop to the ground a few tears mixing with the rain that pounded onto her back. She already knew she couldnt stand. Honestly, she could barely lift her head. But. As she lay there the storm started to clear up, just as it had appeared and the rain began to stop causing her to wince as much. She still was almost positive she couldnt stand though. Her breathing labored, feeling slightly light-headed, and all the pain that coursed through her body made her wonder if she would even make it through the night, ecspecially if her wounds were becoming infected by the ash. Immortals could most definately die from wounds. Her whole body shook still unable to feel where she was as another roll of thunder came in. "Scathashoun? Bonaparte?" she whispered. "Where are you guys..." she snorted the fear obvious in her voice as she fought to sort out the vibrations. She needed to stand. She needed to get out of this storm. Otherwise. She didnt think she would make it...

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[Black Thorns]

"Scathashoun? Bonaparte?" whispered Rasta, pulling Scathashoun out from his thoughts that once again threatened to drown him in a sea of emotions and strangling him with the ideas racing about his mind. She wasn't dead, or even unconscious right now; as he knew, if the horse was talking it was alive. She was talking, yes, but just barely talking, her voice hardly even audible- it seemed to be as quiet as a shifting of leaves beneath their hooves. He could only hear it as the rain had cleared up here, the downpour beginning to shift towards more of a gentle rain than anything else. The dark, dangerous and thunderous clouds had moved onward, closer to the roaring river he could just barely hear in the distance. The threat of thunder wasn't completely over, but the effects of it would be greatly lessened as the distance between Rasta and the thunderclouds grew. It was sure to pick up again, however; this WAS Terra Septentrionales, and the weather was as unpredictable as it could be. For now, though, he could be pleased the the sun chose to shine down upon them at this very moment. He turned his attention back to Rasta's weak, quiet voice as she continued on. "Where are you guys...?" Her question was drenched with fear and uncertainty, pain stinging the sound of her voice. The rain picked back up as she spoke, a brief moment of lightened drizzle falling back into rain, threatening to become, once more, a thunderstorm, a cyclone, a tornado whipping across the lands to throw them through the air. The only benifit from this storm is that it could partially wash out the wounds on Rasta, though it wouldn't be able to get off everything. To do that she would have to get into a body of water, but how could she do that? Currently she was too weak to do that- but, if he allowed her to stay here, her wounds could grow infected by the ash. Here, of course, was a dilemma; did she go with him to the nearest body of water, or did he bring her back into the cave? All of it would, of course, depend on how Rasta felt about it; he wasn't her dam or her sire, so he shouldn't try to make her decisions for her. "I'm right here, Rasta," he replied, touching his nose to her face. Perhaps he held his muzzle there for a bit longer than necessary, the feel of her muzzle against his comforting to them both. She seemed to long for his touch, oddly enough, after he had done what he had. He, too, loved to touch her- he loved the feel of her smooth, golden pelt, now blackened with ash; he loved the feel of her warm skin beneath his maw. He wanted to touch her, but he knew that touching her now could quite possibly hurt her further. With his head still dropped down, Scathashoun brushed his lip against her stomach. "Rasta, you need to stand up," he told her quietly, trying not to hurt her cut and dirtied flank. He gently prodded at her neck, attempting to convince her to bring her body up. She needed to get up before she could do anything, even if her "standing" was putting most of his weight on his shoulder and flank. She needed to get up and get moving, try to get somewhere where she could wash out her wounds and heal- or washing them out if she had the strength to. The rain began to clean her pelt, though not all too well; the dried dirt on her pelt became thick mud; and the ash combined with the rain to run in thick, dirty lines down her flank. He pushed again at her uninjured areas of her body, trying to convince her to get herself up. "Rasta, please..." he pleaded. "Please, Rasta... I'm so sorry for hurting you; this is all my fault," he murmured, guilt beginning to pull at him again, "I don't know how to make it up to you, but I will try." He pulled his head off of her body, touching it onto the ground next to her lowered head. Perhaps he should keep his distance- would that make it up to her? Would leaving make it up to her? He wasn't sure, though he wished that the mare would want him to stay here, now. She had been hurt by him and by the after effects of what he did- maybe she would never want to see his face again, or maybe she wanted to be near him- at least somewhat. He wanted to be with her oh so badly, but how much, now, did she want him?

--behind the post--
808 words
No muse
Abba was there again.

[Abba]

Resounding Memories^;;Rasta

It's not hard for me to say the things that you do
You bring out the best in me when it's not the best for you

"I'm right here, Rasta" he spoke before touching his maw to hers. She let out a tiny snort, bobbing her head lightly before reaching out and nuzzling his cheek, straining her back to stretch out that much. When he pulled away, the storm was gone again and she was starting to feel her surroundings. She could feel his head still dropped down close to her. Then, his lips running gently against her stomach. Letting out a sigh of content, her ears perked up she stretched back, touching her maw gently against his neck, lipping at his muscled body happily. "Rasta, you need to stand up," he told her. Nodding her head slightly she tried, immediately collapsing after getting up on her front legs, unable to get the strength into her haunches also. Letting out an exasperated grumble she felt his maw against her neck, gently prodding at it. Slowly, she stretched her maw out, once again returning to nuzzling his cheek as she lay there. "I'm trying... I am..." she choked out, pain shooting through her limbs each time she moved. She felt him moving, like he was about to push her again, and this time she weakily shoved her front feet out infront of her, his last shove to her hindquarters brought her to a shaky standing position. Each of her legs spread far out, almost like a foal the first time it tried to stand and walk. But, when he spoke again, she cocked her head confused, the rain beginning to pour down again and she was losing her surroundings. "Please, Rasta... I'm so sorry for hurting you; this is all my fault," She shook her head, "No one made the tree fall. No one." she retorted, pinning her ears as she began to lose her balance, shakily shifting her weight to get in a better position, her legs beginning to slip out from under her as the earth below her turned to mush. She could still feel his head against her body and she reached back with her own maw, gently nuzzling him as he spoke for the last time, "I don't know how to make it up to you, but I will try." Her ears immediately perked up, and as he took his head away she dropped hers to keep her balance, "Just. Stay here, and don't leave. That's all I ask." she said, just managing to make out the form of his cranium lowered next to hers and she lipped out gently at his forelock before resting her maw against his broad forehead and letting out a content sigh, her feet slipping farther apart as she fought to stay standing. Her ears swiveled around once, her stance beginning to put yet another strain on her back and she let out a snort of pain, her body beginning to tremble as the rain pelted harder and harder against her back. "The wounds... They are painful... and I doubt they are clean." she said, trying to state facts, "I can die from these, I need to get it clean... please. I can't walk anywhere alone right now... nothing is making sense." she managed to say, dropping her head down next to Scathashoun's again in shame. "I would really prefer not to die..." her last words were quite and choked out as she managed to move one step closer to Scathashoun and place her head under his throttle, but not before gently nuzzling his cheek for a few seconds. It felt so nice to feel his warm, smooth coat against her seemingly cold and pained body. Something about it comforted her more than she believed he really knew. And yes, it was strange after all he had done to her. But, still, part of her trusted him more than anyone else at the moment. And she had to go with that gut instinct. The instinct that he would take care of her because she couldn't do it on her own.

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------Behind the Post-------

. 699 words
. o.o Muse is kinda here guys. This is good. ;3
. Rasta is making me have an "awwwwww" moment.
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[Black Thorns]

I hope that you don't mind
I'll make it up this time. Go ahead and cry, it was just one little lie...

Scath sighed in pleasure as she rubbed against his face, moving her maw across his cheek. He had hoped she would do this again, touch him of her own free will, let him feel her rub against him and hear her sigh in pleasure when he touched her instead of snorting in a disgust or tearing open his lip (again). He returned her caress, touching his maw to hers gently, careful not to hurt her accidentally. As he touched her stomach he felt her lip happily at his body, something he felt grateful, almost, for; it was by far better than the reaction he had expected from her. He, too, lipped at her neck before he continued speaking, asking her to get up. "I'm trying, I am," she responded, awkwardly attempting to stand before collapsing once more. However, after touching her again she stood precariously, as if she were a newborn foal attempting to stand for the first time. He touched her maw as if in congratulations, letting it linger there as he began to speak, pulling away as he continued on speaking, apologizing for what he believed was his fault. The mare cocked her head, as if he had been confusing. As she did, the spotty rain that had been clearing up began again. "No one made the tree fall. No one," she replied as the ground began to loosen up again beneath her. Rasta nuzzled him comfortingly, as if trying to assure him that he should not worry about it. He lipped at her cheek gently, rubbing he face against her neck. As he pulled away again, speaking once more and attempting to tell her he'd try to make it up to her the mare seemed to grow even more unsteady, dropping her head to try and help herself balance. "Just stay here, and don't leave. That's all I ask," the mare replied gently, lipping at his forelock and resting her golden, beautiful Arabian head against his broad forehead. This was one place where he began to feel loved, again, as he hadn't felt for years... since the day his mother- or false mother, rather- told him who his true mother was, she began to disregard him, treat him as another stupid colt whose time she wouldn't waste on. Now, at this moment, his heart seemed to swell with the amount of affection he was receiving, another equine's body near his without the intent to harm him, but the intent to lavish him with affection. The mare sighed contentedly as he did, though she began to slip in the mud, her spread-eagle stance not helping her balance a bit. The mare snorted in pain, lifting her head from his. Scathashoun pulled his head up as well, confused before he remembered the injuries that the mare suffered from. Her body trembled in pain, the strain on her injured back and body obvious in her pained stance. He touched his muzzle to her forehead, lipping comfortingly at her flaxen forelock. "The wounds...They are painful... and I doubt they are clean," Rasta said, trying to state facts. He nuzzled her as she spoke, trying to comfort her and distract her from the pain she was in. "Mhmmmm," he replied, distracted by her wonderfulness. All he could concentrate on that moment was her, trying to make sure that she would be okay- and, well, he kinda liked that she didn't hate him right now, too. However, these thoughts were halted as she spoke her next words. "I can die from these..." His nuzzling was halted, and he stepped back for a moment. She could die from wounds, then; he thought anxiously, she wasn't completely immortal. This thought worried him, causing him to look at her more closely and seriously than a lovesick puppy. "I need to get it clean... please. I can't walk anywhere alone right now... nothing is making sense," Rasta managed to choke out, pulling her head close to his in a seemingly shameful manner. He nuzzled her cheek comfortingly as she began to speak again. "I would really prefer not to die..." she choked, moving even closer to him and nuzzling his cheek affectionately before sliding down underneath his throttle. Her body was colder than it should be, something that was not a good thing; he loved it all the same, even if her body felt like ice next to his warm one. The affection he received from her was surprising, though no-where near unwelcome. "Lean on me, Rasta," he murmured, pressing his forehead gently against hers. He nuzzled her cheek as he felt the now-familiar weight of the mare against his body, beginning to move forward toward where he had heard the river before. There was no place else nearby with a body of clean, fresh water that could clean out her wounds. He walked carefully, making sure not to move so quickly that Rasta couldn't keep up with him, but fast enough to get there before her body began to heal the wounds- he already knew parts of it were scabbing, trapping the dirt underneath. The rushing water could help take off the half-formed scabs, however, though it would be painful. He wasn't quite sure how to have her in the water without her weakness causing her to be swept down the river. Perhaps he could stand in the water with her, and have her only leave his side when she had to switch the side that was receiving the rushing water of the storming river. He was nervous about this, however; what would happen when the mare turned around, away from his side and standing on her own against the rushing river?

--behind the post--
977 words
I have Abba's permission to make Rasta lean on him.
AWW.

[Abba]

Resounding Memories^;;Rasta

What if I fall
along the way? Would you be there to ease the pain?

Rasta leaned against him, as he ordered, feeling her hooves just barely having to skim the muddy surface of the ground instead of sinking into them under her weight and sliding out from under her. Letting out an exapserated breath as she felt one hoof slid out from under her, almost knocking her to the floor she grasped out, biting onto his mane and pulling her legs back under her. "Sorry..." she murmered sheepisly, afraid he might be mad for her having done such a thing. Her ears still perked up contently as she could hear the rushing of the stream nearby. As they trudged into the water the mare shivered, the coldness of the water only lowering her temperature even more. Cautiously, she took quite a few steps until he stopped. she could feel the water crawling up and over her back, seeping into her wounds causing her to wince and shudder. She snorted once, keeping most of her body weight against the stag, gently nuzzling the tip of his shoulder, before stretching her neck out and lipping at his ears. It hurts, Scath..." she snorted, dropping her maw into the water for a few seconds and taking a drink to quench her parched throat. Her whole body was beginning to tremble again as the water dug at her scars, scratching into her wounds and making them fresh again, but succeeding in cleaning them out. Once she was fairly certain that her right side was cleaned she shakily pushed herself out away from him, walking a bit forwards to turn around. Her barrel resting against his shoulder for a few moments as she turned her head around to touch her maw to his, lovingly before she strode out just one more step and then went to turn. But, just as she turned, leaning back onto her haunches, where the tree had bore the most weight, they gave out, causing her to collapse into the river. Water soon wrapped around her, dragging her under, then shoving her up. It repeated these steps as it yanked her down, following the currents. She let out a scream only to have water slid into her mouth and cause her to gag it up the minute she fell under water, gasping for air as she came back up. Her feet, desperately searching for some for of traction. She couldn't speak anymore, she couldn't get her bearings. And her sensitive ears could hear a waterfall about a mile out, something that would take too long to arrive at, not with the waters nearly flooding towards their escape.

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------Behind the Post-------

. 449 words
. More aww moments.
. DANGER!!!
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[Black Thorns]

I took a chance
Paid the consequence, this is why I'm writing to you

Scath felt a sharp tug at his mane as Rasta slipped, using his locks for support. It wasn't pain as much as the unexpectedness of it that made him stop for a moment. "Sorry," she murmured meekly, avoiding his eyes. "It's alright, Rasta," Scath replied, "It didn't really hurt me." As they walked, the rushing of the river grew ever louder in his ears, which began to flick nervously. He was worried about it as they approached; the water was much wilder than he thought it would be- they would definitely have to stay close enough to shore that Scath and Rasta had a firm grip on the riverbed below them. The two began their decent into the water, the current strong and as cold as the rain around them. His back shivered as they went deeper inside of the water, the cold just below his back (though the waves would crash over it), but over Rasta's most definitely. He felt her shudder against him, leaning greatly into his body. He stiffened his legs, bracing the two against the strength of the river. As she nuzzled at the tip of his shoulder, Scathashoun buried his muzzle into her mane, lipping at her lean neck underneath. Pulling away, Scathashoun felt the mare lip at his ear affectionately. "It hurts, Scath..." Rasta snorted, dropping her nose into the cold water below and swallowing down a mouthful of freezing river. "I know," he replied, nuzzling at her back underneath the cold water. The freezing current was pulling at the ashen wounds, making them fresh once more but effectively cleaning out the ash and dirt in them. "I know." His wounds were healed by now, at least healed enough that the river didn't break them open once more. Her body trembled furiously due to the pain and cold against his body as she painfully waited for the right side of her body to be clean. He lipped at her ear to try and comfort her a she fought the pain she was in from the water- or, well, the pain he thought she was in. She moved shakily away from him to turn around, which worried Scathashoun. He wasn't sure if she was going to be okay out alone in the water without anything to support herself as she moved- these fears seemed like paranoia more than anything; the mare seemed fine until she began to turn around. The tree had placed the most stress upon her haunches, which she leaned back onto as she spun to walk back over to his side. "Rasta, be carefu-" he began to call, but his voice was cut off as her haunches gave out on her, her whole body collapsing underneath the river. "Rasta!" Scath yelled frantically, moving deeper in the river. He kept his grip on the ground as he moved, keeping them there until he was midway up his neck, the waves crashing over his head. He picked his hooves up and began to swim, scanning the river for any sight of Rasta. The river pulled him toward the deep center, moving him along with the current. He fought to stay above the surface, the waves threatening to pull him under each passing second. As he fought, he caught a glimpse of the golden palomino's head breaking the surface for a second before being yanked under by the current. "RAST-" he began to yell, not paying attention as a massive wave pulled him underneath the river, water filling his lungs as he finished his frantic call. He was blind underneath the water, unable to tell what direction he swam in as he moved his legs frantically. He swam in what direction he believed was upwards, only breaking the surface to be pulled underneath once again. His lungs screamed for oxygen, gagging on water. He had to find Rasta, but how would he if he couldn't even stay above the surface for three seconds? He fought upwards once more, breaking the surface for enough time to spew out the water from his nose and mouth, gasping in air and yelling out for Rasta again. He caught a glimpse of Rasta in the near distance before he was caught in another wave. He peeled his eyes open, the water stinging at his eyes as he scanned the murky water for some glimpse of the golden mare he was looking for. There! He could just barely make out in the murky depths the shape of her legs. He swam towards them desperately, fighting to head in her direction. He swam upwards, gasping for air as he moved towards her frantically, yelling out for her. As he gasped water raced down his sore threat, choking him and throwing him off balance. He was pulled away from the mare as he exhaled the liquid, his legs refusing to move from the shock of the water. He managed to get his momentum back up again, treading through the water until he reached the mare. He swam into her- gently of course- and began to swim towards the shoreline. The water threatened to pull the two deep under, though they kept moving until they were on the land. Scath stumbled as he exited the water, falling onto his side. His legs trembled from the fight with the water, the immense strength required to swim against the current sapping him dry and leaving his legs trembling in the rain. As he lay there, he began to think over the day's- and the night's- events. First off, he had rudely 'claimed' Rasta by nipping her hindquarters unexpectedly, then arguing and fighting with the other two horses. Then, of course, this godforsaken storm started up and Rasta went delirious, thinking he was Panic, her old mate. He tried to comfort her and she bit at him, running off into the forest and hitting her head, knocking herself out. He kicked her into the tree. As he thought, the memories began to swirl and intermingle with eachother in his mind. Wanting to kill himself. Affection. The cave. The forcebreeding. The burning tree, and now the river. His breathing was shallow as he fought back the days events, shutting his eyes tightly and pinning his ears against his head, tensing up his entire body. After about a moment of this he relaxed some, unpinning his ears and opening his eyes. His body relaxed as well, his trembling legs falling flat against the wet earth. Mud seeped into his coat as he lay there on the ground, weak and oh so very, very tired. Though Rasta told him it wasn't, all he could believe was that it was his fault, his fault for this entire mess of a day. It was his fault.

--behind the post--
1142 words
DRAMA
Hopefully it will post this thing!

[Abba]

The mare snorted once, kicking her feet out. Cold wqter was gushing over her pelt seeping into her wounds and banging her against rocks as she was swiftly yanked down the river. Sharp edges of these rocks dug into her golden pelt and ripped off her scabs like a bandaid off of someones skin. When she finally managed to get her footing for but a few seconds she stood there coughing up water. "Rasta!" she heard Scathashoun call but she had absolutely no clue where he was. She stretched out, flexing deeply at her poll as she tried to concentrate. But. No matter how hard she tried she was availing to nothing. "Scath!" she managed to call out before a crashing wave sucked her back under filling her lungs with water instead of air. Desperately, she tried to fight this current. After all. The threat of a waterfall scared her. She honestly doubted that anyone, equine or otherwise, would ever be able to survive such a big fall as one provided. No. She just couldnt let herself get that far. Trying to push out she stretched her neck out, snapping at the thin air until she grasped a branch. Her muscles trembled as she fought to keep a hold and stand. But. The minute she did so she felt the branch snap with a threatening crack lodging itself against her and beginning to push her under. Pinning her ears she once again fought the current. Scathashoun had to get to her. He wouldnt dare leave her to die. She could hear the struggle of another equine farther down the stream and her ears perked up. Was it really him? Or was it this branch that had almost saved her, but in the process strained her back? It was then that she felt herself collide into a sturdy object, the waves immediately pulling her back under. She felt teeth dig into her pelt, yanking her out as she gasped for air. "Scath?" she choked out allowing her maw to snap out and grasp onto his soaking charcoal mane as she attempted to stand. But the water was too high. Snorting once she felt her body being tugged towards the shoreline. The minute she could feel the rock bottom of the river she forced her feet under her, allowing her teeth to slide off of his silky mane. But considering how she was still in the water, and her legs were threatening to buckle underneath her she was yet to get out of the woods yet. Cautiously she lifted maw up and lipped at his hindquarters thanking him for at least getting out of the current which had been threatening to toss the two of them off to their deaths. Slowly, Scathashoun inched the two of them back towards the shoreline. He was going to be there for her. There was no way that Rasta could ever see him deserting her. That thought made her content. The two of them collapsed upon the shoreline. Her whole body trembling. Her legs were freezing, cuts stinging. The rain had sprung up to a new level sending never ending crashes and booms through the air and directly into her eardrums throwing her sense of balance off. At least the river had washed away the remains of her scent so that she knew for sure the other stag wouldnt also attempt to mount her. But, as she thought that over she highly doubted Scathashoun would be too pleased upon that matter. Rasta cautiously shoved her soaking body up against his, resting her head against his huffing chest. He was so exhausted. Her body fit nicely inside this nook between his hind and front legs. Her ears perked forwards for a few seconds as she heard something rustle in the background. She was hearing things. It was just exhaustion. She could feel herself trembling, he could even feel Scath's legs trembling unstoppably from position she was in. No. Scath was not allowed to be in pain. She had caused him too much already today. She had snapped out at him every chance she got. And now he was in pain. Weak and in pain. And it was all her fault for acting off of impulse instead of staying in that cave. If she had just stayed in that cave none of this would have happened. None of this. "Im sorry Scath" she whispered before gently beginning to lip at his withers, her maw moving up his neck and tracing the contures of the muscles that were so very tense right now. Too tense for her liking actually. Slowly she worked her way up to his jaw line before changing to nuzzling, her warm breath gently sliding into his pelt. As she moved down until she could touch his maw. "thank you Scathashoun..." she snorted before lipping at his nostrils as he breathed out, the warmth from his breathing feeling good against her skin, causing her ears to perk up even more. Exhaustion began to set in as this mare couldnt stop herself from trembling. She was too cold, and too scared now to do anything. Silently, her cranium dropped so it was resting upon his now still legs. Playfully, she allowed her slightly wet tail to graze his flank and her maw to nuzzle and breath into his front pasturns. Quietly, and still slightly out of it the mare whispered. "Im glad you found me, my knight..." she let out a tiny sigh of pleasure as it felt great to be next to him, in such close a fashion and know that he wasnt going to try anything. She finally felt nothing but safe around this stag. Allowing her ears to prick up just a bit more she lifted her head one last time and brushed her lips across his cheek. "I hope you know i really do like you..." she murmered once, dropping her head back down to his knees and allowing her breathing to slow down. As she was lulled to sleep by the constant rise and fall of his barrel against her she could feel her mind contemplating one thing. Was it possible that she could actually be falling in love with this stag? After he had forced her into a child and been so unmannerly in the beginning? But. She had stayed by her, through thick and thin. That had to account for something right? It did, in her mind at least. And as she slid deeper into her own sleep she mumbled, "I might even love you..." without even realizing it.

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---Behind post---
.1119 words
.done COMPLETELY from my phone.
.Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. -Is too cute at end-
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[Black Thorns]

As Scath lie there in the pouring rain, he felt a slippery, wet body slide up against him, laying her head on his chest. Her skin was cold, too cold for his liking; he nuzzled her head gently before lying it back down. The mare, unlike him, didn't seem to be nearly as tired or overexerted. Her body seemed to fit there, right against him, as if she was made to lie next to him in that position, that spot. However, like him, she trembled against his flank uncontrollably; he assumed from pain. He lifted his dark head and touched the golden head residing on his flank, nuzzling her cheek affectionately. He had caused her too much pain today, and in return she had only given him pleasure. (Or, well, some of it was pleasure. Other parts? Not so much.) He was almost annoyed at his legs for trembling; if they kept moving like this without him being able to control them he might simply explode. They were surely giving Rasta the impression that he was in pain, which he was not. His muscles trembled from overexertion, not pain. No, he did not hurt right now, he felt rather relaxed as a matter of fact. (His muscles didn't agree with this, however.) Her, lying there in comfort, trusting him and nuzzling him did nothing but relax him, cause him relief. He was afraid, at one point while they were in the water, that she would be so very infuriated with him for letting her slip out of his reach like that. Yes, had he moved with her and had a way of keeping her steady while she turned they wouldn't have had that problem... but if he did, he wouldn't be lying here with the comfort of an affectionate mare lying with him here, on the riverbank, in the rainstorm. Sure, he could do without the water hitting him every second he lie there, but nevertheless he enjoyed it the same. "I'm sorry Scath..." she whispered, lipping gently at his withers. He was confused at this, for obvious reasons; what, really, had she done to be sorry for? "You don't need to be," he replied as her muzzle moved up his neck, tracing the muscles that lay there. Her lips seemed so work carefully on his muscles, working out the knots and the tension that lay there. Her gentle massage soon turned into nuzzling as she reached his jawline, her hot breath seeping into his skin. He sighed quietly, the noise hardly any louder than his regular breathing. She was good to him, yes, almost too good to him for it to be normal, for it to be right. There had to be some counter-action for this; she was affectionate and trusting- what was going to happen to make this stop, to make this turn around and swiftly slide downhill? He need not worry about this now, though; he need not trouble himself with it at this moment. For now he would simply let himself love the affection that Rasta was giving him, let himself revel in her attention and her love. She touched his maw with a word of thanks, lipping at his nostrils as he breathed. Her ears perked at his warm breath- his had been this entire time. He snorted quietly as the mare began to move away, longing immediately for her touch again. He felt her cranium drop to his legs- which had finally stopped their stupid trembling, thank goodness- and begin to tremble once more. She seemed tired, as the mare should be- she had been through quite the day. Her trembling worried him, and he brought his head down to her golden flank, resting it there with surprising comfort. He nuzzled at her stomach playfully, wondering what, exactly, was forming in there. A filly? A colt? Who would he or she resemble the most? He sighed softly into her fur, blowing warm air from his nostrils and into her chilled skin. As he did, her felt her wet tail brush over his flank, her muzzle nuzzling and breathing into his front legs. It felt oh so very good to be around her, knowing she didn't hate him, knowing that maybe she really did have feelings for him. "I'm glad you found me, my knight..." Rasta murmured, obviously still out of it a bit. She sighed happily, which, in turn, made him do the same. She was cold, yes, but he liked to believe that he was helping her to warm up some. Her wounds had scabbed as they lie there, enjoying the presence of each other. "As am I, my beautiful Queen," he replied, nuzzling at her withers happily. With his head still tucked comfortably into her shoulder, Rasta lifted her head and brushed her lips against his cheek. Before she spoke or moved her head, he turned his and lipped at her muzzle, rubbing against her cheek softly. "I hope you know that I really do like you..." the mare murmured, almost half-asleep, tucking her head back down and onto his knees. The rise and fall of her barrel slowed, giving off signs that she was going to go to sleep, right there. Her voice was barely distinguishable as she mumbled her last few words of the night, "I might even love you..." Love him? Love him? He wasn't quite sure if he had heard the mare right. How could she love him? She, just hours ago, had told him that she didn't even like him... and now, here she was, muttering half-distinguishable loves! He thought this over in his mind as his eyes began to close, fighting to keep them open and stay awake. Love him? He snorted quietly, sighing in exhaustion and confusion. Perhaps, tomorrow, the pair would awake with a much better day. With this thought, Scathashoun closed his dark eyes and fell into a blissful oblivion of sleep.

--behind the post--
1008 words
woot, sleepy lovey Rasta and Scath!
'course, if Scath was the one in charge, there wouldn't be all too much sleeping... -waggles eyebrows-

[lady shady]

Bonaparte

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His head drooped, and his short legs ached. From the cover of the trees, Bonaparte watched as the dark stag and Rasta made their way up from the river. Ashamed as he was to remember it, he had fled as soon as the tree had been shifted off of Rasta. He had told himself that he needed to be brave, needed to be noble and help the mare, but as soon as she was free, the situation was too much for his nerves, which had already been on edge. The first horses he had seen in days were nothing like the horses he had known before. They were...different somehow, they...his mind couldn't quite grasp what it was, but they were not normal horses. Especially that mare. Of course, her ability to cope with her blindness was extraordinary, but any other horse would have been crushed by that tree. Crushed instantly, struck dead on the spot. But Rasta...she surely had been severely wounded, but she was alive. His mind drifted slowly back to his youth and the tales he had heard of warriors and the Alphas. Courageous warriors, brutal warriors, fiery Alpha stags...and a certain golden-colored mare. He snapped back to reality. Could Rasta be that mare? He'd thought that the Alphas were simply a fictionalized and embellished bit of the lore told to young foals, but now, he wasn't so sure. Could the Alphas be real? He let his eyes wander back to the couple, now stretched out on the river bank. As soon as he had fled to the safety of the trees, he had stopped and turned back, regretting his foolish behavior. However, he soon saw that Scath was perfectly capable of handling the situation and that he seemed to get through to Rasta the best. She trusted him. So, he had watched from the cover of the trees as they struggled in the river and finally fell asleep in each other's company.

Seeing their love, his heart longed for someone, anyone, not necessarily a mare, a friend would do. He missed the security of a herd, the light swish of a friend's tail on a hot day whisking the flies off of his legs. Though he knew most stags his age already had herds by this point, he didn't feel ready for the responsibility. For example, just look at how he had acted today! He had ignored all the basic duties of a mature stag. He had scented a mare in heat, and he had recoiled instead of rushing to her. Another stag had approached him, and he had not challenged him for the mare. And then, when the mare had need of him, he had run from her. What kind of stag was he, anyway? In many ways, Bon decided that he was still very much a colt. Not knowing what to make of his musings, he let himself rest. He would figure out what to do tomorrow...yes, tomorrow...

And as his eyelids fluttered, Bon allowed himself to collapse to his side as a young sleeping colt would, and drifted off into slumber.

--behind the post--
A little longer than usual, finally xD
poor Bon, he's still just a lil guy at heart (:

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[Abba]

Resounding Memories^;;Rasta

She doesn't like it when you stay out late
You hear the noise outside your window
she's dangerous make no mistake

The mare snorted once as she dropped her head a bit farther in between his legs as dreams began to take over. She could feel Scathashoun's head tucked lightly into the crevice of her shoulder where it connected to her neck. It felt nice to be just laying here for once. It had been such a long time since she had last curled up with another equine. She felt him release a snort and it caused her to sigh quietly, her ears perked up. But, her dreams were not good. They never were. That was the thing about this mare. She was haunted in her sleeps. Haunted beyone belief. She was almost certain that she was haunted more than anyone else was, possibly because she had lived much longer than anyone else here. Her auds flinched towards the trees as she heard something collapse into the soggy ground sending her flashing back into a memory.

Her golden pelt slammed into the calm, curving river as another stag ran behind her, chasing her. Never stopping she tripped, her mind having wandered a bit too much, causing her to lose her footing. But, as she lay there in the water, percariously tipped on her side in such a fashion that she couldn't stand up without being pushed a tad fear shot through her limbs as she kicked her feet out trying to find a way to push herself up onto her hind legs. But, nothing was working. She couldn't stand no matter how hard she tried. And that cherry bay stag with a muscular build much worse than any other stag she had been around scared her half to death. No stag that stood at 18 hh with a build that big should be coming after such a tiny mare. It was like a lion chasing a newborn puppy. It wasn't humane. Still struggling to get onto her feet she dropped her maw to the ground taking in a bit of water, allowing the slow moving current to begin to push her up. Except, it wasn't the water that pushed her to her feet. It was another stag. One she hadn't been paying attention to. His voice, calm and collected. "Go. Run. I'll make sure he doesn't touch you." And with that, he gave her one last shove so that she could get her feet under her and then she stood, a bit warily. "Thank you." she said to him, stretching her maw out and resting it against his shoulder before she bolted off deeper into the forest, keeping her thoughts to a minimum and concentrating on the uneven terrain infront of her.Her flints digging into the earth with each quick stride she took, creating perfect crescent hoofprints in the eart under her evenly distributed weight. She could hear the screams, the hits. Everything indicating a horrible fight. But, the thing that surprised her most was after she had curled up in the cave. She had expected that stag, the stag who had saved her to have been the loser. But, that was the stag that returned. His coat stained with the scent of blood. Immediately, she pinned her ears wondering what it was going to be that he did. Instead of hurting her, though, he came up to her side, dropped to his knees and rested his head against her shoulder, just as Scath was now. The mare snorted once, allowing her body to relax against his touch. "You are safe now, princess..." he whispered in her ear, his whiskers tickling her as she lay there, causing her to nicker in a bit of laughter. She didn't say anything, meerly wrapped her head around his neck and lay her carnium there, closing her eyes and beginning to fall into a sleep. Her body was exhausted from the running, and the position she was in now, was much similar to how she was laying with Scath. It was then that her dream shifted, almost back to reality. Scath, the possibility of a family (though it had not been intended). Could everything turn out fine. It was strange, just how much he reminded her of Panic. The stag who had saved her the first time. Shaking this thought out of her head the dream moved farther forwards. It was winter time, and though most were in heat, she was foaling. Scath, right beside her as a pure chestnut foal slid out into the world screaching. A colt. It was a colt. Laying there, extremely exhausted and in pain from the birth she pulled herself to her feet shakily and began to clean the foal. Scath, gently running his maw along her spine and massaging out knots that she was unable to reach. Her ears perked up happily. Yes, a family might be nice. No. A family wouldn't possibly be nice. It would be amazing

Rasta stirred awake the next morning to birds chirping, the storm having passed for at least the current moments. Quite a few trees had been taken out of the ground and strewn around as if they were tiny pieces of wood, something a foal could pick up. But, they were lying around, one of them dangerously close to where they were laying. She snorted, finally able to begin to feel everything around her. No thunder shaking the ground and messing up the vibrations which she relied so heavily upon to keep her senses in order. She moved a tiny bit, inching closer towards Scath's warm pelt. That was another thing about her. She was almost always cold. Cold. Unless it was the middle of summer, with the sun beating down upon her back, she was cold. And it was different, because she never got sick from it. It was just, that her body temperature didn't need to be as hot as everyone elses to keep her body running. She moved her own head around Scath's laying it ontop of neck for a few minutes, lipping at his ears pleasurably, allowing her warm breath to fall lightly against his poll as she massaged the top of his neck for a few minutes. "I'm glad you're here, Prince..." she said to him, almost completly certain that he was still asleep. But, all the same the wanted him to know that she was enjoying his company. Her trembling had ceased over the night, but her body was still soaked from the rushing water of the night before. It had yet to become warm enough, or have enough sunlight yet to have begun to dry her coat. Flicking her tail once more she allowed it to run across his flank at the flies she could feel preparing to land on him, scaring them away before they landed. Then, she allowed her head to relax once again against his front pillars. Her maw gently nuzzling the contours of his legs as they lay there, allowing the sun to beat down on their bodies and begin to warm them up. "I'm glad that you are staying..." she said quietly before slipping herself up and standing shakily. The pain wasn't nearly as bad today as it had been before, which was good in a sense. Very good. But, on the other hand, the fact that it had happened was not good. If there really was a foal being made inside of her, it could very well be hurt, die as a stillborn, or cause her more pain in a miscarriage. Sighing she dropped her maw to his haunches, nipping playfully at the tip of his tail before pushing the top of his barrel to get him to stand. "Come, Prince. Come. Let's do something..." she told him quietly and watched him, wondering if he would move and come with her. Something told her he was probably too exhausted to move though, so she stepped off and moved away. She stepped forwards, heading into the forest where she felt the form of another stag. The scent was familiar. A bit too familiar. Was it the stag from last night. "Bonaparte?" she snorted, gently dropping her maw to his side and poking at his shoulder. "Are you alive?" she questioned before poking at his jaw, swishing her tail at the flies and allowing it to run along his coat. "Thank you for helping me last night..." she whispered into his ears, wondering if he was going to move. The sunlight wasn't nearly as warm as it had been, because of the trees blocking it from her coat and part of her heart twinged that this stag had spent the night alone, without the comfort of another equine to keep him warm and possibly push away any nightmares that might have plagued his mind. Silently, she shifted her weight to her other side, cocking one leg up as she waited to see if Bonaparte would move, and if Scathashoun would join her.

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------Behind the Post-------

. 1526 words
. o.o Muse is kinda here guys. This is good. ;3
. MORE AWWW MOMENTS ;3
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