&& LETS DO THIS

[aPPY]

Ramaskith growled, pacing back and forth. His muscles were tense as he waited just a few more minutes. Sonalane stood off to the side, watching him walk back and worth, waiting for him to move forward. The strange stallion, whom he had learned to be Sobrius, stood whispering to himself. All of the others stood behind them, waiting for him to start it. To start the wars again. To claim what belonged to him. He smiled, pausing to look at his soldiers. There weren't as many as the first time, this he knew, but he had a good feeling about the warriors he had collected. Especially in such a short amount of time. They had spent some time training, at least to give the less expirenced ones some pointers. He didn't really care whether they lived or died in the long run, but he would like it if they lasted for at least some time. He didn't want anyone thinking that they could strike him down very easily and if his warriors couldn't defend themselves, then what chance did he truly have?

The more skilled fighters were clustered at the front of his force, where they could help the less-trained. Whiskey stood near Sonalane, both of the healers positioned near the front where they could quickly jump back in the ranks and mend somebody that had been injured. Though, he didn't think that his army would be met with much resistance, his war being a surprise attack. The skies thundered above and he could see a few equine figures shiver in the cold. He would think most everyone else would be sitting in thier homes out of the cold, trapped and easily taken advantage of. The very thought of hearing them scream pleased him and he was itching to expirience the real thing. The smell of mares in heat mixed with the smell of their blood and dying life. All while he laughed, laughed at thier foolishness for not joining him wen they had the chance. He had given them plenty of time to ally with him, and now they would all be punished for not believing. For not wanting to bring the one who deserved it all into power. They just wanted to die. And die they shall. There would be no second chances in this new world he would create. At the smallest sign he would strike them dead for thinking that he was not worthy of his post. Of thinking that they wished things were different. The future was his and they would all accept that. He smiled at his followers, stepping forward with a confidence he was sure would power them all.

"You all have chosen wisely, to ally with your Lord, and for that you will be rewarded when this is over. Strike your opponents with no hesitation, for they are traitors and non-believers. They do not deserve to live on this earth and share the air with ones such as ourselves." He paused, "We are the future, and our future is bright!" He bellowed, taking a step forward and pounding into the ground as empasis. "Now follow me, across these loathsome, detestable borders as we seize our futures and claim what only belongs to ourselves!"

And as those words flowed from his lips he turned and burst into a canter, crossing that repulsive boundary line and barreling into the West with his soldiers following close behind. Oser, for someone had told him of his name, would be wise to be afraid. Because he was coming for him, to destroy him and take what was rightfully his. And this time... This time he would not fail. The sky boomed in agreement, the clouds billowing above them in preparation for what was about to happen. The future of Forma Silvestris lay in the hands of the next few moments, however long they lasted, and Ramaskith was sure he would come out on top.

// 664 words
oooooh Oser, where art thou? you unprotected fool!
since there is like, no one in the West, Oser is kind of screwed. muahahahaha!
and then the North will be next. >:DDDD
You have no hope of winning. *cackles*

[Black Thorns]

Sonalane could hardly rein in her euphoria, war tickling the back of her neck, capturing her mind. Her body itched, trembled in anticipation of feeling her flints dig deep into the flesh of her opponents, to let out shrill battle cries as she felt life after life fade away. It was all she could hope for. The smallest amount of her was irritated at her position next to the Andalusian stallion, instead of being next to her Ramaskith, as she was so familiar with. It seemed so very strange to her, to look at the barriers between the two lands with another horse in front of her. Her heart pounded, eyes wide. Every inch of her was ready. Every part of her would not hesitate. She would charge with full force at this enemy- and she'd be damned if she didn't destroy every one she set out to. She snorted excitedly, glancing back at the army behind her. It was not nearly as large, nor as impressive, as it had been in the war previously- but she didn't care. They were an army- her army, she thought to herself, slipping with ease back into her role previously. It wasn't her role, not anymore, but she couldn't help but to want it. It was hardly away from her- and all she wanted was to get there, to win. If they won, her Lord would rule over all of Forma Silvestris- and that was everything that she wanted. Everything but to rule at his side- and overthrow him entirely. Yes. Once he was leading, once she was able... he would no longer be owning her position. She should lead. She should rule. They should tremble in fear of her- not in fear of Rama. He was nothing. She... she would be everything. She turned her gaze back to the borders, eyes narrowing at the invisible wall. Once they breached that infernal barrier, there was no turning back. That would mark it- that would be the ultimate choice. He had everything. He was ready. They were ready. Now only for his deciding words- did he chicken out, or did he surge forwards with enthusiasm as their enemies were slain beneath them?

She hoped desperately for the latter.

Suddenly, there came the voice of Ramaskith. She forgot everything else, focusing intently on his words. "You all have chosen wisely, to ally with your Lord, and for that you will be rewarded when this is over. Strike your opponents with no hesitation, for they are traitors and non-believers. They do not deserve to live on this earth and share the air with ones such as ourselves." Damn straight, though she doubted there was ever a reward. They were here, why should they hesitate? If her life was lost and brought the empire to their new kingdom, she'd die a thousand times over. Even if she did not rule, the East's alpha must. It was simply a matter of who ended up being so...

"We are the future, and our future is bright!" She let out a whinny of agreement, cheers rising from the crowd around her. "Now follow me, across these loathsome, detestable borders as we seize our futures and claim what only belongs to ourselves!"

They let out a shattering battle cry, bursting out into a canter as they crossed the borders fearlessly. He would lead them into a better world- and there was no doubt in her mind about it.

Oser would soon regret the very day he was born. Oh yes, he would regret every single moment of that horrible, fateful day.

~~~We command the destiny before us. Let us choose that which satisfies.~~~

Scathashoun stood erect, proud as they watched the border of the West. Oh, he had met Oser a great many times, had spoken to him even. What a warrior he seemed- not, as Ramaskith was, a mindless, ruthless killer. Scathashoun betrayed not a single moment of his thoughts, not making a single sound as the crowd buzzed among him. He was so close, so very close, to finally having a purpose. Here, he was accepted. He was finally a part of something. He was finally whole, in a way he had never been before. He was no longer a little foal, frightened, nameless, shunned- here he was welcomed. He didn't know why he wanted this, why this feeling hadn't come with Rasta, but now- now he was a part of something bigger, greater, more important than he could ever imagine. He cared not for the purpose, for the end result, but only that he could be a part of this. He had to be a part of this. Ramaskith was strong- and though he hated to say it, likely was a better fighter than he was; resisting his side was futile. This would be the winning side. Had he chosen Rasta, as his heart wanted to so badly, he knew that he should die- and so should she. Perhaps he could persuade Rama to spare Rasta. That was what he wanted. That was what he needed. No matter how he hated it, he loved her; it was a pointless thing to say otherwise. He couldn't bear it if he was responsible for her death. Yet he knew all too well that the time would come that he would have to battle her- and she would not break him. She wouldn't. Eventually he would kill her, would rip her apart, feel her holy blood stain his coat, casting him further and further into the Hell he knew he would be sent to. He would be punished for ruining such a mare- but he had to. He had to. Everything, everyone depended on the fact that Ramaskith would win this war- and if he should chicken out of going North, he would cost them the entire war.

Perhaps he thought to highly of his importance. In reality, they could kill her without him ever stepping near the place. He closed his eyes for a moment as Ramaskith began to speak, hardly listening to the words he was saying.

This was it. It was really happening.

Oh, Rasta, he thought to himself, I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry. I wish you could understand this... but you never will. You never understood me, did you? You don't understand this violence. You can't understand it. But, Rasta... this is where I belong. This is what I was meant to do. I feel it. Maybe you can't- scratch that, you can't- get why I think I belong here. I wish I could explain it. But you... you don't know what it's like, never quite belonging, never having meaning or purpose. Alphas have a pretty clear thing to do. Me? Me? I live each day wondering if today I'll die. If today I can be finally rid of it all. It's now that that wonder is gone.. and I can't lose.

I'm sorry, Rasta. This is how it has to be.

With that thought, they set off, beats of their hooves in sync with each other. They moved as one, unstoppable, following their Lord. It was time. They wouldn't fail. Oser would no longer threaten them.

They would be free.

~~~Do you know what's worth fighting for? When it's not worth dying for?~~~

It was just as it had been before.

She remembered it clearly, standing at the edge of the border. She was far behind in the ranks, hardly able to see more than the endless army stretching before her. She was ready, then, young and stupid. She wanted to fight. She could remember the weather that day- it was warm, peaceful. She could almost feel the cool air ruffle her mane as the crowd buzzed with excitement. It was really happening. They were going to do it. She remembered him there, right next to her, though she had no idea of what was to come.

"Are you excited?" he had asked, the same emotion shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, I am." she replied, not taking her gaze from the forest before them. "I am."

"Are you scared?"

"No. How could I be? We will win. I know it."


How much more wrong could she be? They lost. They lost everything they had hoped for. She lost the war, her love, her leader, her meaning to life. Yet here she was, trying to do it all over again. Here she was, hoping desperately that this time would be different. That this time, maybe they would have it all.

Perhaps she would never get to taste that victory- but she wouldn't let any others be kept from it. Hell, she was selfish, but she wanted them to live and rule over the others. In a way, it was selfish to want those that opposed her to suffer under the rule of this brute before them. And oh, how she wanted very much for that to happen. She loved the purpose of this war- though she wasn't altogether fond of gore, she found the war to give her purpose.

Purpose. She had purpose then, more so than she had now. Back then, she didn't understand the terrors of war. Looking around her now at the many young, inexperienced horses around her she couldn't help but feel the claws of age reach out at her. They didn't understand it. They couldn't understand it. They didn't see their loved ones brutally slaughtered in front of their eyes. They didn't see the enemy charging at them with nothing but pure rage, wanting nothing but to kill. They couldn't understand the cold, calculated manner of fighting that they had all developed in the last war. They wouldn't understand. They couldn't.

She remembered the forest as it had looked before- and to her surprise, nothing had appeared to change. Perhaps it had, and she couldn't remember it.

It was years ago, so many years ago. Why should she even be concerned?

Sentimental fool.

She looked up as Ramaskith began to speak, turning her attention toward him. She felt that familiar sense of courage swelling up in her chest as he spoke, pride and foolishness beginning to creep into her. Excitement. Nervousness. She felt it all. She stood straighter, prouder as he spoke, believing his words. It was happening. It was really happening.

Just as it had before.

But this time... this time, it would be different.

This time they would win.

September charged out into battle, letting loose a shrieking battle cry as their hooves pounded against the ground with the determination that would never be understood by any outsider.

With his words, they went out into battle.

Into war.

And this time... She was ready.

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[lady shady]

She stared at him, unbelieving. And then the words came, words that flowed past his ears, for all he could hear was her tone. She was displeased. And she would have done things differently? Wonderful, now she was telling him.

He was hurt, hurt that she saw him differently now just because of the title he happened to carry. Those long months they had spent together, the love he’d thought they’d shared, apparently it didn’t matter anymore because he was an Alpha. His wounded pride turned to anger, and he murmured, ”Why didn’t I tell you, Song? Why, does it make a difference now? Would you not have loved me if you had known? I’m glad to find out now!”

However, his sarcasm was interrupted by a pounding in the distance, a dull thud growing louder and louder, seeming to shake the very earth upon which they were standing. He stopped abruptly, muscles tensed. This sound…it couldn’t be…he’d hoped to never hear this sound again.

A mixture of hatred and fear arose in his chest, and he pinned his ears, whirling away from Song, out of the clearing and towards the noise. How dare this enemy cross the boundary that had been agreed upon? One of the only ones with the power to kill him, the only other Alpha stag, his only real foe, the only true threat. The one he knew so well. Ramaskith remembered, and he was coming.

Rage and panic blinded him, clouding his judgement. Hurt and confusion swirled alongside them, a new undertone to his emotion, compliments of Song. What had happened to make his world fall apart today of all days? He burst from the trees in time to see what would have brought him to his knees had adrenaline not been keeping him upright. Warriors were spilling across the invisible line between the East and the West, troops of recruits bleeding into his lands. And at their head…

…at their head was Ramaskith.

Time fell away. It was as it had been, nothing had changed. Brutal horses, brutal master. Only this time, Oser was severely outnumbered. What did he care though? He would not run from this despicable creature. Bugling, he charged and sprang into the fray.


--behind the post--
mreh, dun really like it.
I'm sorry Thorny if that was completely rude, but I figured you could still finish yours and then whoever can reply to this whenever. I needed to get this up, especially since I'm never here during the week, so :/

horse © ChildofAtlas.deviantart.com, background © Kiwiaa-Stock.deviantart.com

[aPPY]

Ramaskith smiled wickedly in response to the battle cries that were quickly followed by the sound of thundering hooves. Everyone who lay in their way should fear them. Fear everything. Fear their choices in life, for how could they be so foolish to side with the loosing team? He would show them for not believing in the Lord. It will be he who will reign, and reign he will, for a great long time. And they will be afraid of ever angering him or crossing his path, for the tales of this battle will travel far; in distance and in time. He will clense this world of the insolent fools who do not follow born leadership, and only back a false contender. For, oh dear Oser, had no chance in this battle, and they foolish to think that their petty allegiances would make any difference. No matter what they did, the Lord would still come down on them with forces unimaginable after such a long, dormant period. They were wrong to think that the wars were over, that they had no reason to fear what had already been solved. Fools! The lot of them, and he would show them. He would show them all!

And he would begin with their elected leader. And he would die, so very quickly but so very brutally, for all the trouble he had caused.

And just as those thoughts passed through his mind, the grey figure appeared. Ramaskith smiled, a brutal twinkle in his eye as he recognized the creature for his enemy. The one who caused it all. The one who must die. The Unknown, who called himself Oser. He stood there, and Rama drank in the fear at what the other Alpha saw. Yes. Be afraid. Tremble where you stand and realize you have to chance, and no mercy shall be thrust upon you. He must die, and die he shall, by the blow of Ramaskith for all to see, and all to remember. But then the foolish brute lunged forward, too prideful to just stand there and accept his fate. No matter, a battle is what the Lord had prepared for. It was better that the fool did not disappoint. And so Ramaskith lurched forward, barreling down the unmarked path with speed and excitement; for he had been waiting for this moment since before he could remember -- literally. And now that moment had come, and the Lord couldn't wait any longer to seize his future. For this one lonely stag was the only thing standing in his way.

"I have been waiting a long time for this moment!" He called, his words directed at the enemy. "And now you have come readily into my clutches!" He chuckled, eyes hardening into stone and he stretched out, gaining ground for a few strides before stopping completely; Oser's momentum carrying him ever further before Ramaskith reared; letting out a brutal cry before hopping forward and colliding with the enemy. This is what he had been waiting for, and this he would not fail.

// 511 words

okay so you said oser is supposed to flee?
then rama claims the west and it is his.
that would be the correct way to go about it right?
fight, take over, move to next territory.
:D

are we supposed to pick numbers for this orrr...?
/not sure how to go about it.

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[lady shady]

"I have been waiting a long time for this moment! And now you have come readily into my clutches!"

The words exploded into the air, firey taunts escaping from the lips of the pale stag with the icy blue eye. The one horse he'd tried to forget, yet couldn't manage to escape. The sound of pounding hooves drew nearer, nearer, nearer...

They collided. In a blur of light bodies, Ramaskith's muscular frame pushed him backwards, forcing him off balance. Livid, he rose to his hind legs, clipping the paint's face with a hoof, though not before he felt his underbelly slashed from below. Ramaskith fought with a wicked grin on his face, a twisted grim smile that showed not emotion. His eyes were hard and clear, never leaving Oser's face as they battled in the middle of the fray. Years of hatred flowed forth, fueling Oser's reserves of energy. He struck out at Ramaskith, hard, hearing a satisfying thud when his hoof connected with flesh. Snapping teeth, pounding hooves, horses' screams--these were the sounds of hatred. They drove Oser on, enraging him, encouraging him to fight harder, be stronger. Again and again he and Ramaskith clashed, till their bodies became blurs and the rest of the world was forgotten in the scarlet of their blood and anger.

They were on their hind legs, front legs locked in a deathly embrace, when Rama bit him, snaking his head out and scraping the skin from under his long grey mane, the place Song had so lovingly caressed only hours before. Her scent filled his nostrils, not the scent from earlier, simply that fresh, windswept smell she carried. Song. Was she safe? He faltered, and Rama pushed him down, hooves barely missing him as he tumbled. Worry cascaded over him in the midst of the battle, distracting him from his abhorrence of this only enemy. But now, on the ground, he was at a disadvantage. He scrambled to his feet, but it was too late: Ramaskith had struck him, knocking the air from his lungs. No. He must get to Song.

Oser launched a mighty kick at Ramaskith, sending him backwards a few steps. He eyed him evenly, hatred diluted momentarily by concern for Song. "It's not over, Ramaskith." To his right, he saw the glowing form of a polar bear appear, plunging forward between him and Rama as he turned and galloped back to where he had come from. Please let her be safe.

As soon as he found Song--pleaseletherbefinepleaseletherbefine--he had to find help. The West was not very populated, and it would only be a matter of time before it fell if he did not leave for help. His heart had a strange ache at the thought of leaving those under his care, but it would be for their own good. It had to be.

Where would he go? He certainly wasn't going South, wasn't crawling back to Zoet after all of this. Besides, he'd heard rumors for years now, rumors he couldn't ignore, though he tried to. Rumors whispering that his former mate no longer ruled the south, that she had vanished, and another had taken her place. Without knowing if she was friend or another one of Rama's conspirators, he could not head south. North. He must go north. He would find Rasta, ask her for help. The fate of the Western kingdom depended upon it.


--behind the post--
yep. sorry to powerplay Rama, I can edit if you want Appy. Just thought it was a pretty generic fight, with both of them getting a little beat up.

horse © ChildofAtlas.deviantart.com, background © Kiwiaa-Stock.deviantart.com

[aPPY]

[bg=#120700][atrb=border,0,false][atrb=cellpadding,0,false][atrb=cellspacing,0,false][atrb=width,450,true][th] text "speech" thoughts "other characters' speech" And he fought back. Ramaskith smiled as his enemy slashed at him, a hoof to the face, hoof to the side. It didn't matter. He was fueled with his own anger and that of his enemy. Every blow Oser sent to him powered the next one Rama inflicted. It didn't matter that Rama's pelt was growing just as bloody as the grey stags. It didn't matter that bones were cracking, some even breaking, just as the skin parted so easily under their sharp hooves. All that mattered was that this is what he had been waiting for, this was the end of it all, and Ramaskith would come out on top. He didn't care anymore, just as long as this creature was wiped from this earth. His named would never be spoken again. Never. They continued to batter each other, neither gaining the upper ground. A hit here, a hit there, they were quite evenly matched. Though Ramaskith could see his opponent growing weaker and weaker as the blows struck home, and Rama was not at all tired. If anything, he had more energy than before, his blood lust powering his every move. He felt as if he could do this forever. So when Oser faltered, Ramaskith almost didn't catch it. Though he pushed Oser to the ground easily, the action caught Rama off guard and he had to right himself from falling also, as he didn't expect the Other to collapse. He righted himself quickly though, charging at the creature, planning to end it all right then. Though, Oser got to his feet, Rama's blow hitting home but quickly followed by one from the Other as well. Ramaskith huffed, growling as he was thrown back, a switch going off and he could suddenly feel everything. His anger boiled and he turned, ignoring his injuries as he moved to attack again. This was not over. And Oser seemed to agree, telling him that very fact. A polar bear appeared, as a ghostly figure, in between them. Vondur quickly jumping at his with a roar, his large feline body coiling and pouncing; the largest of the lions digging it's claws into the bear. Ramaskith seemed to roar as well, his anger flowing forth like a tangible thing, and when witnesses would speak of this battle, they would say that it was as if he glowed with hate. The red markings that slashed across his pelt seemed to bleed with anger. And his eyes seemed to twist with such a wickedness that one couldn't look into them without feeling such fear it was unhealthy; making the heart skip with the thought that such rage could be directed at them. And so Ramaskith bellowed, ignoring his wounds and leaping forward, in the direction Oser had gone. He would not get away from him! He was foolish to think that running away would solve anything. The Lord would seize this land as his own, and Oser would have no place to hide. If he fled to the North, like everyone else seemed to have done, it would only be a matter of time before Ramaskith came looking for him. All would be his, and Oser's body would lay lifeless at his feet for everyone to see. And then all of Forma Silvestris would be his. As he ran, it appeared as if the West was just as empty as the South seemed to be, everyone taking refuge with Rasta. The golden mare. The blind mare. At least that made it easier to take over everywhere else, with no resistance to meet. It appeared as if the worst of battles would not take place in the West, but in the North. He smiled as he followed the grey enemy, wondering where he could possibly go that Rama would not find him. His land was all but his, with no one to protect it from his clutches. He laughed, or rather cackled, as he ran, long legs stretching as he trailed the creature. He stayed just a bit behind the stag, following to where ever he was going; to whom ever he was looking for. And he would kill them too. "You can run," he called, not a shout, but loudly to make sure the creature heard, and understood how close he really was, "But you cannot hide." He laughed again, loudly and evil, rising goosebumps along even his own skin. "You will be mine, insensé espoir, You will be mine." ==Author's Comments . Word Count 756 . Notes - muahaha . Muse - mreh. kind of there, kind of not. . Tags - oser i suppose. but anyone in the war can reply.

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Header by Appy - Coding by Abba

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[twi]

Kaodran watched the tangle of bodies in fascination. The two stallions went at each other with bloodlust so grotesquely apparent that he looked away. Screams filled the air, horrible screams. Kao wanted to fight, wanted to join the fray, but he knew not who to attack. He was repulsed by the idea of helping Rama take down Oser. The stallion was mad, possessed by pure madness. What had Oser ever done to him? Kao would not join in such stupid bloodshed, as much as he ached to fight, to fight someone. Not Oser. Not Rama either. He had known that this would happen, if he chose to wait, to follow the mad stallion into battle, after he had been healed. He did not care that it was Rama who had saved his life. It did not matter to him that he would be just another rotting carcass had Rama not seen fit to save him. If anything, he owed his life to Whiskey. Just because fate had placed his life in Rama's hooves did not mean he was grateful to him for making the choice to let Kao live. He angry that he had been threatened with death, had he chosen not to comply with Rama's terms. He owed him no loyalty, none whatsoever. He did not care that he had said he would follow Rama. He had already known that he had no intention of keeping his word even before he had agreed to join him.
Looking at the hate-filled stallion, Kaodran wanted nothing more than to kill him and be done with the matter. His conscience would not keep him from it. No, it was more a matter of self-preservation. Watching the blows Oser struck at him, Kao became more and more sure that there was something keeping Rama safe, as Sliene had said. He would not test his theory at the possible expense of his life. He would flee.
Shame filled him, but he could not see any other way open before him. He was loathe to turn on any of Rama's forces. What if they were just more equines in positions like his? There was only on option left; to flee. Everything in him revolted against the thought, running away from the battlefield like a scared colt.
Kao, it is what needs to happen. I am with you.
Sliene prowled silently by his side, fangs bared. Kao regarded her with sad eyes.
"So be it."
While he had been pondering his decision, torn between flight or fight, he had been stealthily moving to the edge of Rama's lines. Now, before the words were hardly out of his mouth, he was in motion, his great form leaping away, churning up dust as he ran. Sliene was a shadow by his side. His perfectly fit body served him well as he ran. He felt the muscles coil and uncoil in fluid motions, desperately trying to make it out of eyeshot before his absence was discovered. If Rama did not know which direction he had flown, he would have the advantage. Never had he run so fast and furiously, churning up the turf as he went. His life depended on it.

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[Black Thorns]

She turned from the scene, terror rising up in her throat. It wasn't just a mad attack- this was an organized, thought out plan to initiate a full fledged war. She couldn't do it- she couldn't fight. Not a moment was wasted before she turned and fled from the scene, not caring if Oser came after her or not. Out. She needed out- and she needed it now. Her frenzied gallop rose in speed, pushing faster than she had ever thought possible. Even when she had tried to run from Him she had never moved as fast as now.. Each battle cry, each heartbreaking scream of the wounded only served to fuel her desperation, muscles screaming at her to stop, stop, please stop- but she forced herself through the pains, her eyes searching evermore for a way to get out, to get safe- safe, she remembered where safe was. But how to get there? She wasn't westborn. Hell, she didn't even know how she got here- let alone how to get back.

She burst through the trees into a white-blanketed meadow, quiet, peaceful. It was surrounded by sharp, steep cliffs- and the only other way was to the war. SHe glanced around herself- and a sudden, violent torrent of memories slammed into her.

Oh, god!

Her breath caught in her throat, freezing her to the spot as a husky, smoke-tinged scent, frighteningly familiar to her began to ever so gently tickle her senses. This couldn't be happening. Not again. She turned slowly, fearful of what she might find. SHe heard the crumbling of rocks, the soft footfalls against snow, and the scent continued to grow stronger and stronger... Her eyes finally fell upon him, and it all became real. It was real. It wasn't a hallucination, a mind-trick she inflicted on herself to keep away the happiness she could find. Oser wasn't here to protect her- like she would let him; even being ad Alpha, He was so very strong...

Savar.

"Well, love, it appears we meet again. I know you- even after years passed I knew you would come racing straight back to me. I believe you escaped rather naughtily, my lover; I do not like the ones who misbehave." His tone was light, teasing as he spoke, yet it struck a cord of fear in her heart. He always sounded so playful... and he never was. He never would be. She took a hasty step back, causing him to speed forwards as he cautiously descended the cliff edge. "Not so fast! We have unfinished business, do we not?"

An arrogant comeback rose to her lips, but was soon forced back by a choking ball of intimidation. He had power over her- he always would. She stopped moving, head hung low and shameful as he moved. She watched as he coiled on his haunches, before springing into the soft snow of the meadow. Snow was pure, innocent- so of course he had to ruin in with his deadly self. She made no move to or away from him as he approached, hot fear coiling off of her pale body. She recoiled as he touched her lightly- a simple brush of his hide against hers. So warm. He was always so warm. She could remember it, melted snow dripping off of him, could feel him melting the snow encrusted on her pelt."And you, my love... you have some evidence on you. Were you with someone else? Have you betrayed me, Song? Have you betrayed your master?" His voice went from light to dark, deadly in a matter of moments. She let out a soft whimper, before managing a shuddering "no."

"You lie! You are a liar! A rotten, cheating, lying évadé who hardly deserves the air she breathes!" She let out a quiet hiss of pain as he let a hoof nail her in her chest. She felt it then, her freshly healed rib cracking once more. Damn. A chord of terror struck in her throat as his body heat began to move further and further down her body. SHe quickly swung away, letting out a muffled cry. She wanted to resist him. She wanted him gone. She wanted him dead. Why couldn't she even lift a finger against him? She shrunk away from his touch, causing him to let a low. menacing, primal sound come from him. Instinctively she reverted to her former self, drawing back on her previous "training" of sorts. SHe had to keep him happy. If he was not happy he would hurt her. What would make him happy now? Obviously not her refusing him. Submissiveness wasn't happy- just... not angry. He would still hurt her when he was Not Angry. She hesitantly, carefully reached out and stroked his warm hide, letting his scent fill her nostrils. He let out a soft moan of pleasure, pressing himself against her, moving ever closer and closer to where she didn't want- and she touched him, too, let out sighs and content sounds- but it wasn't her. Not her. She was out, out, over them and flying away where he couldn't touch her and she was safe, flying back to before with Oser where he hadn't wanted to touch her and back to their lessons...Back to before then, when she was free, alone, alone where nothing was wrong. She went back to her foal days, innocent, pure...

He wasn't pure.

She wasn't innocent.

SHe came back as he dismounted, her body trembling in exhaustion and submission. She hated him. She hated him so...


--behind the post--
sorry for the short suckiness. it needed to get done. xD

[lady shady]

She wasn’t there. He blinked, as if trying to confirm what he was (or in this case, wasn’t) seeing. This was the right clearing, he was sure of it! Her scent still lingered in the air, a little reminder of her, but Song was most definitely gone. Frantically, he scanned the snow, looking for tracks. If one of Ramaskith’s soldiers had her…

He noticed a set of fresh prints in the snow, where the white blanket had hastily been shoved aside, as if she had left in a great hurry. No… Oser charged in the direction of the tracks, heartbeat going miles per minute. He needed to find her.

The tracks were leading towards what he knew was a dead end, and he struggled to contain himself and to slow his pace. It would not help either of them to rush in foolishly. Oser inhaled, trying to collect his thoughts. He would—was that her scent in the air? He shook his head, wary, for this scent was not Song’s usual. It was the scent of that morning, her siren call. What was going…wait. He inhaled again, just noticing the scent of a stag and the smell of blood. So one of Rama’s soldiers had found her.

He started forward, his blood boiling. How dare one of Ramaskith’s sorry crew prey upon his baby bird? How dare he?! Oser drew himself up to his full height and turned the corner. The sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

Song was standing, facing him, a horrid distant look in her eyes. They were glazed over, and her expression was hard to read. Directly behind her, a hulking cremello was in the act of dismounting. NO. Oser wanted to roar, wanted to hurl himself at this awful, despicable THING, wanted to rip him apart limb by limb and see him gasp for air, wanted to rush to Song’s side and save her from the horrible truth of what had just happened. Because surely, this wasn’t her fault.

”Song.” He was shaking, straining from the effort of holding himself back from charging. Song needed to move first. ”Song, move.” She still stood there, motionless. ”Song! Move. Before. I. Kill. Him.”

--behind the post--
CHARGE!! one more post from thorny, one more post from me, and he's off.

horse © ChildofAtlas.deviantart.com, background © Kiwiaa-Stock.deviantart.com

[Black Thorns]

THe word came flying from her lips, unbound and without thought. It was a taught nature- by God she wanted him dead! She wanted to watch him writhe on the ground in agony, wanted to beat him senseless and let her pelt be eternally rusted with the blood of this foul beast. SHe thought it should be black, so black, just as his soul...

"No!" she screamed, stepping closer to Oser and searching wildly for his eyes, "No! No! please, you can't kill him!" SHe could imagine it, Savas standing behind her with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. He should feel proud- after all, he'd created a perfect little puppet. He knew she hated him. He knew that she loathed every breath he took, that she wanted him cold and six feet under. Yet she instinctively couldn't bear someone wanting to harm him, wanting to crush him and pull him apart. She could wish it, yes- but should the time come, every one of her teachings urged her to throw herself in front of him. Oh, he was clever that way- the fear, the intensity of the situation, reverting them back to lessons learned ages ago, pounded into their being. He was a part of her, as much as she wanted to deny it. Everything she could do was somehow linked back to him.

She spoke again, voice trembling with fear and the whimpering of a beaten dog, "Oser, please... Please, you have to understand...You ca- can't hurt him!" Her plea was one of desperation, a cry for forgiveness- yet it had that undertone of fierce protectiveness that she couldn't let be. Her body froze, stiffened as she felt Savas's warm hide begin to run along hers. His lips moved rhythmically over her neck, causing her to shudder from disgust.

"Ah, so this is the great Oser," Savas began, lifting his head from her pale pelt, "I do believe Song had been telling me about you."

Liar! She shouted internally, rage boiling deep within her, You liar! I said nothing of the sort.

"What a dirty whore she is, too; she'd just finished with you and could hardly restrain herself as she threw herself at me! Needless to say I couldn't refuse. I don't think anyone but myself manages to keep her satisfied..." Savas taunted, pressing against her side. Song let out a sharp sound- of agreement or not one couldn't tell. "Well, this little slut has had me so many times, I don't think she could really imagine anything but!" He tossed back his head, laughing... He was always laughing...

Song looked up at Oser one last time, whispering her plea. "Please, Oser... Please don't hurt him..."