// red and black

[lady shady]

Red, a world about to dawn,

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Vici

He shifted, trying unsuccessfully to find more room in the darkness. It was tight here, uncomfortably so. He knew not that it wasn't time for him, that he wasn't ready, only knew that he wanted out of this cramped space. He shifted again, giving an impatient kick with one of his spindly hind legs, curled up underneath him. A slight thud sounded near where had hit, and he sensed movement. He was still. A little later, he couldn't say how long, for he had no perception of time, much less knew what it was, he grew tired of the tightness around him again. Stretching his muzzle as far out as it could go, he jabbed blindly at his surroundings, meeting with a thin membrane. His nose wasn't sharp enough to penetrate it, but his hooves certainly would be. Drawing back a front hoof, the foal rolled and struck, feeling the membrane give way. A whisper of cold, fresh air hit his wet hide. The chamber around him shifted, squeezing him away towards the outside. Finally, he was getting somewhere.

[/color]

Sheba

The ghostly grey mare paused, lifting her head and surveying her surroundings. It was imperative that she was alone. She knew not why, call it instinct, but she had parted with Sobrius a few days earlier when It had grown too foolish to stay still inside her. Leave it to Rama's offspring. Now It was at it again, squirming around. This had better be worth it.

A sudden stab of pain hit her from inside, where the foal had struck her with a wayward hoof. Swinging her muzzle around, she smacked the spot It had targeted, wishing for once that It had already been born so that she could have bitten him soundly for that. What a nuisance.

She moved into a slow trot now, taking in her surroundings as she searched for a suitable place to set up camp. Big white clouds blanketed the sky, reminding her of herself: ready to burst. Winter was here in Forma Silvestris. Sheba came to a small creek, ice already beginning to form around its edges. Breaking the thin layer with the strike of a hoof, she lowered her head and drank deeply. Now, where to go, where to go. Moving along the bank, she caught sight of a rare little alcove in a break of leafless trees and gnarled pines. Slipping her way inside the protected area, she found a little clearing, stiff frozen blades of grass crunching beneath her feet. So there was food and water here. It would do.

She sensed movement inside her as the foal began to shift again, this time jabbing her with what felt like a muzzle. Before she could react, It struck out with a hoof, breaking the thin membrane that kept It safely enclosed in her body. Sheba laid her ears back as the contractions began immediately. Of course It didn't have the sense to stay put. Then again, Rama was so big that neither of them had much choice. She certainly couldn't carry the foal for much longer anyway.

For the next hour, she strained alone, lying on her side on the frozen ground, cursing Rama all the while. Finally, she felt the legs of the foal slip past, followed by its head, shoving its way into the world. The shoulders were more difficult, but at last they were free. Now the foal slid from her in a rush, immediately scrambling to right itself on the cold ground. At the same moment, the sky seemed to burst, and a few perfect flakes landed on the newborn.

Sheba got to her feet grudgingly and turned, moving to clear the membrane from the foal's body. Nudging the sac off of its head, she was struck by the bright red star on her baby's forehead. She ran a rough pink tongue over the mark, assuring herself that it was not simply blood. It did not smear. More excited now, she recalled that Rama had had these unique red markings. At the time, she had thought that they were blood as well, or old wounds, but if the baby had them too...she searched the young one's eyes for the spark that a spirit would have given them, but she found nothing there. Disappointment blinded her, this one had not inherited the tiniest fragment of the spirit that had haunted her love and had given him so much power. She shoved the rest of the sac off, more agressively now, discovering with displeasure that her offspring was male. Just what the world needed. Another foolish stag to fight and kill. Well...the wheels were already turning in her head. Perhaps he wouldn't be so useless after all...she was still young; she could have more foals. But a personal bodyguard, a trained assassin, a bargaining chip with Rama...
Rama. Her eyes landed on the foal's marking, then narrowed. If those markings on her lover had not been blood and had not been indicative of the spirit...the words Red Terror floated through her mind, remembering her own mother's whispered words in the days of the war and her foalhood. It couldn't be...but was it? Grinning wickedly, she looked down at her foal, then began to clean him off gently and neatly. It wouldn't do to let Alpha Ramaskith's son die.

--behind the post--
So. Now that the baby's born, it still is winter, and she'll be in heat.
She needs someone to train him, so they need to meet up somehow...yeah. Sorry, my thoughts are so scrambled!
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Black, the night that ends at last!

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[deshy]

Vigor felt the sweet scent of life rush through his sensors, every part of him tingled. He took in another deep breath of air relishing in the beauty of it. Without even realizing it he found himself walking forward, like something was hook into him pulling him without his consent. He tried to break free, only doing so made the lure stronger. He snorted at the fight he was putting up, though he just could not get his brain to work his instinct, the thing he had always taught himself to ignore. Now so strong he could not break free of it, all those years wasted all because of this one sweet scent that filled the forest around him. He gave in to the power and let himself walk where ever it was his gut was telling him.
Vigor found himself standing outside a small sort of caved area, almost like his lair, as he liked to call it. That sweet smelling odour ran strong through the currents, every inch of him tingled, he felt alive once more. Taking a step into the dark cove, pausing to let his eyes adjust, and there right infringe his eyes lay a newly born foal. Vigor cringed away automatically. The sight made his stomache hurl. Life was a sickening thing to him, hating every ounce of it. He pulled away, at the same time noticing the mare at the same time, not having realized she had been so all that time. He glanced at her once and mumbled a terrible word under his breath. Turning and walking away, he noticed something odd about the foal. There was an odd colour upon his forehear, a colour that was not normal. He had only ever come across another like this. Automatically shuddering before he even had to think the name. Rama

[lady shady]

Red, the color of desire,

[/i]

Vici

He opened his eyes and blinked once. A shadowy figure was standing over him, nudging the membrane off of his head. He sensed her heartbeat quicken and she gasped softly, before peering closely into his eyes. A fleeting wave of emotion rolled over her body, but he was to young to know that it was disappointment. He was hungry. She paused for a few moments more, then began to lick him off vigorously, sending the blood pumping through his veins. He nickered softly before shivering. This new world was much colder than the last one had been. He attempted to scramble upwards, though he didn't know why. At his first attempt, he fell into the soft drift of flakes that was beginning to build around him, but at the second try, he managed to get to his feet. All this time, his mother had watched silently, as if daring him to pass some kind of test. When she saw him scramble to his feet, she nodded slightly. When he took a wobbly step towards her, her ears pricked. But it was when he reached her side, nudged his way under her belly, and drank from her swollen udder that she uttered the first words he would hear in this world. "Vici," she murmured, "You have conquered."

[/color]

Sheba

Sheba's head bobbed sleepily over Vici's back. They were both exhausted after the birth, yet he could afford to sleep now, while she must keep watch. He roused himself and scrambled to his feet again to take another long drink. She eyed him carefully, searching for weakness. Though he had come much too early, he seemed to have formed enough to survive. That is, if the cold didn't kill him. She wrapped herself around him protectively, keeping her investment warm.

Warming each other, her eyelashes fluttered...must stay awake...must not sleep...Within moments, her eyes had closed, and Sheba slumbered.

She awoke too late to do anything. A stag had entered to clearing, and from the lustful look on his face, she remembered, once again too late, that it was winter and that she was most definitely in heat. Cursing herself for her carelessness, she gathered up Vici and fled the clearing without looking back. He must be protected. Entering a safer grove nearby, she looked into her baby's eyes once more. Ever so gently, but with a rough undertone, she slid her teeth down his forehead. The colt whimpered softly, and she scolded him in a whisper, "No, Vici, you must not show weakness! You are strong! You are brave!" He at least had the sense to nod solemnly and stop crying. Now the blood obscured the star, making it appear as just part of the wound.

Stashing him in a deep fold of the trunk into which only a small foal could fit, she eyed him sternly. "You are to stay here, my pet, do you understand?" He nodded once again. "Don't come out until I get you."

Now to do some damage control. Reveling in the fact that she was once more soundless with Vici out of the way, she glided back to where the stag had been, making sure he was gone. To her dismay, he was not, and she knew that even if he couldn't see her from where she stood at the edge of the clearing, he could smell her. Before stepping out though, she observed him. He was a full hand taller than her, muscularly built and coal black. And his eyes...they were strange eyes, cruel, but intelligent. However, he was a stag, and stags were always easy to motivate.

She sauntered out now, wiping all traces of concern for her face. "Why hello stranger," she cooed, keeping her voice low. She approached him, ever cautious. She knew the risk she always took was greatly increased during the winter when she actually was in heat. If it came to it though, she would manage to slip away. She always had.

Coming up to him, she brushed past his raven side, trailing her tail just out of reach under his nose. She moved in this manner all around him, all softness, until she reached his face again. This time, her eyes were hard and her voice still sweet, but not at all innocent. "How much would it take for you to forget what you just saw?"

--behind the post--
okays. so she needs to find out somewhere along the line that he can fight well so that she can 'hire' him.
I'm not entirely opposed to him breeding her at one point if that's what you want to do, as long as the foal gets trained.
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Black, the color of despair!

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[deshy]

Vigor watched as the mare and foal seemingly vanished from sight, though the scent still lingered thick in the air.
Glancing up into the sky he breathed a heavy sigh, the sweet scent filling his lungs once more, though they did not seem to have quite that same lure upon him anymore, just a whisper in the back of his mind. Just as he thought he had managed to ignore him, the scent hit him like a wave of nuasea. He glanced back down only to be welcomed by the mare. Automatically he shrank back inside himself, fighting the urge to go to her, to take in the luring scent radiating of off her. And just like a loosen arrow she brushed herself along his side, raising her tail, allowing more of the scent flood into his nostrils. At that he knew instinctively what she were offering. He froze himself up, stopped breathing, blocking his nostrils. He stood like a statue resurrected up from the ground. She spoke sweet seductive words, but none penetrated his mind like they would to other stallions, he was different, A lot different from the rest. Trained in the arts of war and self discipline. This was a good time to bring back all those vigor training skills and use them against this Fae once and for all. He lashed out nipping her along her check bone and then at her eyes, her neck, sinking his teeth into her soft warm flesh, the taste of iron filled his mouth, making him crave for more, his eyes seemed to turn, to glow even, like that of a hunting wolf. He barges her with his large cranium. Pushing his whole weight into her, a sound like that of growling seemed to escape the stays lips as he knocked into her once more.

[lady shady]

For the army we fight is a dangerous foe,

[/i]

Vici

Peering cautiously past the trunk of the tree, Vici watched his mother disappear. Once she was out of sight, he allowed himself a small sniffle as he felt the warm blood run down his face, the cut still stinging. A flake of snow landed on it, causing it to smart, and he jerked his head back inside the tree. Sighing softly, the young horse curled up on some moss and cobwebs and settled down to wait for his mother's return.

[/color]

Sheba

The stag struck out unexpectedly, sinking his teeth into her face before she could anticipate the blow. Given that her senses had been on high alert, this stag was good. Precise and unpredictable. She whirled and sent him a sharp kick to the ribs as a warning before circling again and facing him, even more cautious than before. "Ah, stranger, I see that this is a dangerous game to play. But isn't it a fun one?" She giggled sweetly before moving past him again, tail wrapping around his front legs, but the rest of her body just out of reach. "Now don't be shy. Would you care to give the lady your name?" Glancing at him over her shoulder, she blinked lazily, letting the flakes cling to her long pale lashes. "Come now, a stag with such perfected skills as those has me curious. Won't you oblige me, inconnu?"

--behind the post--
that last word means 'stranger' in French in case you were wondering.
uhm. yeah.
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With the men and the arms that we never can match!

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[deshy]

Vigor stumbled sideways as the blow to his ribs was unexpected. He felt a flush of adrenaline kick into his system making him wild with excitement. If she wanted a fight he would surely give it to her. His name? She were asking for his name? He laughed a deep echoing sound. "My name is mine and mine only you will never learn of it" his voice too was deep, seductive even. It felt strange to him, for the words dearly escpaced its trap. He was a silent kind, but this Fae had striken a side of him that had been reserved. She tempted him further, though he was now more aware of her cues, tempting him in to suck him dry, use him for his strentgh, harvest him of his goods. Wasn't that what all the mares did? Well they weren't much use for anything else but. The males fought and the females made the young. He laughed once more and began to make his way past her, up the steep elevated grounds. She was interesting for a mare, he could give her that. Though he just wasn't that interested.

[lady shady]

Who cares about your lonely soul,

[/i]

Vici

The snow continued to fall, blanketing this strange new world. Vici shivered again. He was growing cold and hungry. But he was a conqueror, his mother had said so. Said so and left you, a little voice murmured in the back of his mind. He shook his head wearily, an odd gesture for one only hours old, but it was an action that would soon grow familiar to him. Finally, as the snow covered the ground completely, he closed his eyes and slept.

[/color]

Sheba

"My name is mine, and mine only. You will never learn of it," he growled, eyes cold and unfeeling. Yet deep beneath the hard exterior, she could see a spark, something that not had been there before she had struck him. She laughed prettily, tossing her alabaster mane and prancing away. Oh, this one was good, such a fighter and so unfeeling too...

"If you'd like it that way, inconnu," she replied. "If you wish to hide your name from me, have it your way. Though I don't see why a great stag such as yourself would feel the need to keep secrets from one so much obviously weaker than yourself..."
She dropped the aggressive stance, melting as her muscles uncoiled and her body relaxed. "But then again," she continued, approaching him, "maybe that is wise..." She struck out again, this time with a seemingly delicate foreleg, rapping him on the ribs again. The hollow sound pleased her greatly, it was as if he was empty, had no heart that would betray him with weakness.
He laughed and began to move away from her, up the mountain, testing to see how far she would follow. "I see the game, inconnu, I'm coming..." she purred as she swung into a dainty trot behind him. "No, you can't rid yourself of me that easily."

--behind the post--
yup yup.
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We strive toward a larger goal!

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[deshy]

Her voice trailed of as he moved further away. He didn't really care if she followed him. She was right that he was stronger than her, but then again was she just egging him on? trying to make him fight her so she could take a piece of him. No, no mares really knew how to fight. If she really wanted to fight him then she had to prove that, stop playing around, but she was a mare and that was what mares enjoyed doing, especially in the days of winter. He pushed himself through the trees, sweeping this way and that, blending into the darkness, all but his eyes, that seamlessly glowed , like that of a cats. Just two pale orbs floating in the darkness. If she wanted to play, then he would give her just that, now she was playing his game. The sweet scent filled his lungs again, he followed it, knowing he would find her foal. A smiled toyed with his lips, though not one of happiness but of that of an evil, mind plotting smile.
Slinking through the shadows, knowing it would take her some time to find him, he made his way to where the foal lay. He moved through the trees in almost every direction, hoping to lead her a stray. Soon planting eyes on the tiny shape curled up inside a fallen tree trunk. A huge grin spread across his lips, marching towards the foal. He stuck his nose inside the trunk, grabbing the snoozing foal by his neck and pulling the poor thing from its resting place, then he stood and waited for her to find him, foal dangling from his grip.

[lady shady]

Have you asked of yourselves...

[/i]

Vici

He slumbered, only to be awakened by hoofbeats coming towards him. Even at this young age, he sensed that they were not his mother's--this animal moved differently, its tread heavier, more certain. Vici closed his eyes again, feigning sleep, remembering what his mother had told him. He was to be brave. The horse reached the tree and he glanced up just in time to see a pair of glowing eyes. The eyes bobbed closer, and he felt himself yanked from the safety of the tree and pulled out into the cold. He dangled helplessly for a moment, light body limp in the grasp of this stag. Suddenly though, instinctively, he whipped his small head around, managing to sink his teeth briefly into the neck of his captor before he was shaken off. The blood in his mouth tasted strange, unlike milk or water...however, it gave him a strange sort of hunger as well...

[/color]

Sheba

She followed where he led, though he dodged around quite a bit in the growing darkness, making it difficult. His inky coat blended in with the surroundings, his advantage at night what her would be in the day. Her light pelt made her appear ghostlike as she bobbed along behind him, eyes narrowing as she realized where he was headed. She sped up her pace, arriving just in time to see him yank Vici from the tree. He must not treat her bargaining chip so! With satisfaction, she watched her son snap at the stag's throat, not so helpless after all.

"Ah, very good, inconnu," she murmured as she watched him dangle her son gloatingly before her. "You haven't failed to showcase your immense skill, be it fighting or tracking, monsieur; I'm beginning to think you're showing off for me." She smiled, drawing closer in the gloom. "However, monsieur, you will learn quickly, I trust, that you cannot move quickly with him in your hold." She darted in, sweeping her tongue over the wound Vici had inflicted, tasting the fresh blood. She shook her head in utter distaste, she cared not for physical bloodshed. That was not her job. But Vici must be trained. "Put him down and we shall negotiate."

--behind the post--
I tried to hurry xD
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...what's the price you might pay?

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[deshy]

Vigor held the foal out so that he could not reach his neck again, even though he hate taken a nasty bite to his neck, Vigor did not feel the pain. He had taught himself to ignore the stining of it, now it was just an automatic thing. Do not fear, do not feal pain the words echoed through his mind. Vigor smiled at her, despite holding the foal in his teeth. She was impressed with him, but that was not what he wanted, he could taste the genes of ramas running through the childs veins, he knew all to well of his fathers doings, trained himself to remeber the stags smell. He flinched remebering that day Do not show weakness He reclaimed himself, hoping she hadnt notice his small twitch of the eye. Vigor recoiled as she lapped at his wound, Dont let her get to you, dont move, just stay still He gulped back his rising urge to kick out at her, he couldnt do that, not in front of the foal, that was just not right. She spoke, wanting to nogotiate with him. No that will not happen, i do not take kindly to deals He stepped back from her shaking his head. He turned the foal around so that now Vigor was placing his back to the mare, shielding the foal from what was about to go down. This was not heathly for such young eyes. As he turned a flash of white struck his eyes So this is it then? The panth leaped onto the mares back, gently sinking its teeth into her neck, playing with her, toying with its food, though the patronos was not really attacking her, more just a warning sent from Vigor. The cat dug its claws into the faes pelt. "Shall we dannce under the moonlight my friend" he purred into her ears, with a halfhearted laugh.