// let the games begin [Thorny]

[lady shady]

VICI

Vici pranced, battling an invisible enemy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scathashoun nod almost imperceptibly, and he dodged an invisible blow, ducking and racing forward to deliver a lightning-fast strike with a front hoof, teeth snapping at the air. Darting away, he sent back a perfectly-executed double-hoofed kick in the direction of the shadow foe. Scathashoun nodded again, and he slid to a halt, bowing his head ever so slightly to his mother. He hadn’t wanted to do that last part, but the larger stag had said that it would please her and that he had to.

It seemed that he had been right, for the tiniest smile crossed her face. His ears pricked, and he caught his breath. Was she…happy with him? She opened her mouth, and Vici leaned forward, straining to catch her words. ”Well done…well done…” He had to work to keep his jaw from dropping. Sheba was happy! He basked in the glow of her small acknowledgement, casting a quick, grateful look at the teacher. In the past few weeks, Scathashoun had taught him many things. Some he still didn’t quite understand, like that talk about fathers, but the stag had taught him to fight. Or at least he had begun. Vici had grown to admire the teacher, and he had worked hard, for he had discovered that he would, occasionally give out compliments when a move was particularly well-executed or a kick was nicely squared. The colt craved these rare compliments; he thrived on meager bits of praise that he had been so starved of when he had been with just his mother. Now, he sighed quietly to himself in satisfaction. He had done well…

SHEBA

The colt sparred with an invisible enemy, small muscles working furiously beneath his coat. She looked on as he struck out at thin air, weaving his way through the space of the clearing. This was the first time she had seen him truly fight; the stag had deemed him ready after these past weeks of training. Besides this, she had only returned to the pair to allow the young one to suckle, and this only because it was absolutely necessary. She had spent most of her time slipping through the woods at the base of the mountain, looking for…well, she hadn’t quite known what she was looking for. For the first few days, she had tried to discreetly observe them, but there was little cover on the mountainside, and when she had managed to find a few scrubby trees, they were too far away for her to hear anything they were saying. So, she had ventured down the mountain, had a look around, and had gone silently through the woods in search of other entertainment. There were few horses out in these parts, and besides, it wouldn’t do to return with the scent of a stag clinging to her coat. She couldn’t afford to drive off the warrior. He had begun his job well though, and she was pleased. ”Well done,” she murmured, ”Well done…”

She waked forward, past the foal and towards the stag, continuing, “I will admit, monsieur, that you have impressed me. It is my wish that you continue in this manner. The colt must become an excellent warrior. It is essential.” She glanced over her shoulder at the young horse, lowering her voice. ”But, monsieur it is a start…”

--behind the post--
so, I’d have Scath bring up the fact that Rama is Vici’s father, and then they can have that whole conversation

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sorry shady, the coding was bugging me. I just added the start tag for the bold. xD

[Black Thorns]

He felt himself slipping back into a cold, cruel demeanor as the mare spoke. She invoked those wants, those feelings inside of him whenever she was around. Even her bastard child didn't make him feel that way; he couldn't quite place why. Perhaps it was in the lies of her seductive hips, her words of praise and of empty promises. He didn't care for why, really (fact: that was a lie), only that he didn't care if she lived or died (fact: that was another lie.).

"Essential, love? Or what, exactly will happen?" Scathashoun sneered, "Your darling little Ramaskith will be disappointed in his son? Oh, don't try to deny his lineage! I'd doubt a mare such as yourself really would try- though why agree about breeding with that, I will never know- to disguise it. I'm sure it must have been rather disappointing when the only proof of his father can be found here-"

Scathashoun jerked his head towards the little one, the bright red mark betraying him.

"Nevertheless I am sure your son will not disappoint. After all, his father cannot compare to this little one. Surely a creature such as himself will surpass any opponents. After all, with a mindless brute for a father, a- well, I do presume that a lady such as yourself shouldn't hear those words- for a mother, and a murderous warrior for a trainer, he should turn out just peachy."

Perhaps attacking this mare would prove fruitful. He wanted a child- and this little one. Vici, could very well suffice. He had so much to learn- and Scath had so much to give...

But he is not your own...

[lady shady]

SHEBA

”Ah, so you know of his father, do you?” she hissed, ”Very good sir, will you force me to admit that you have impressed me even further with your cunning?”

Sheba fought to regain control of her sudden burst of anger, chest heaving. Fathers…yes, fathers were a…tricky…subject. A rare flash of emotion ignited her eyes before she managed to calm herself. It was not worth it to waste her energy on this fool with the half a brain required to put two and two together about the colt’s bloodred star. When he grew older, his forelock would cover it, but for now, he was exposed.

”Forgive me,” she cooed suddenly, still with a note of anger in her voice, ”forgive me, o warrior. I’ve forgotten; you know so much about his father that I don’t know. Isn’t that right?” She savored the bait, knowing that either she would be right, and he would be silenced, or…or there was something he knew about Ramaskith that she didn’t. And if he did, she was going to find out. ”Because you’re so superior to the eastern Alpha, to the master of Forma Silvestris…!” The gray mare cocked her head and locked her cold eyes on his own. ”How stupid of me to think otherwise.”

VICI

The colt took an involuntary step backward at his mother’s sudden flash of rage. She rarely betrayed strong emotion, and to see her like this frightened him. Had he upset her?? But no. She was directing her livid gaze at Scathashoun, murmuring in a low, eerily sweet voice about…fathers? His father?

And now Scath was speaking too, speaking about him in an odd, detached way, hurling the words like missiles at his mother, assuring her that he’d do fine, just fine. He backed silently towards the clearing of trees off to their left. No, he would not stay and witness the blast of Sheba’s anger. Vici would question Scath later. But for now…

The wiry colt skittered silently off into the safety of the trees.

--behind the post--
yep. Vici’s out of the way, so they can rant all you want. It’ll probably be just Sheba for now until we need him to make an appearance again.

[Black Thorns]

Scathashoun narrowed his eyes at the mare's insult. "Oh, I'm sure you'd be impressed by basic observations. After all, a little whore as yourself can hardly find someone more intelligent than moss on a rock!" Rama, most definitely, was included within that range.

"Of course I am superior. Arrogance, sure, I have it- but I speak with full truth." Scathashoun could feel the words begin to pour from his mouth. It wasn't that he wanted to prove himself to this mare, not by any means, he just... he had to tell. Why wouldn't he?
"He places all to much trust in the hands of flaky warriors to protect his own lands while he struts about in lands he has stolen. Doesn't really watch them, either- me, especially. He'd send me out on missions... and he'd never really question how late I came back. Really, he doesn't pay much mind to his warriors by any stretch of imagination. One, with the proper means and assets, could quite easily... change things, if you understand. He isn't necessarily that strong or clever, either; he wouldn't be hard to take over... After all, the war his stilled. Yet, he has the upper hand- and he takes no action with it. I do believe a wise man would attack while he is strong, instead of waiting until he is frail..."

"Of course, I assume such a devoted lover of his wouldn't dream of challenging him." The statement was dripping with sarcasm, a dare- should she object, he would know. Someone would be with him, on his side, in yet a new revolution...

Scathashoun suddenly saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw the last of a small, white body disappearing into the forest. He couldn't help but feel disappointed- almost...

no, not sad. Sad means you like them and you want them there. You don't. Scathashoun, get your head back in the game. Foals don't matter. They never matter unless you are breaking their necks. Vici doesn't matter...

...sad. THough, admittedly, it wasn't needed for him to be around. Likely he would only ask questions later, to Scathashoun- in a way, Scathashoun felt more of a parent to this little one than his own mother. Oh, he would take this one in. He may not be of Scathashoun's blood- but it almost felt like revenge. Ramaskith may have taken Rasta- no, not taken her, taken Scathashoun away from her- and so Scathashoun would take his sole heir.

This was war.

And he was going to emerge victorious.

[lady shady]

SHEBA

To her silent delight, he took the bait, opening his mouth to prattle off his list of reasons that made him superior to Rama. Sheba rolled her eyes as he started off; it was nothing that she hadn’t heard before, empty boasting with nothing to back it.

” …One, with the proper means and assets, could quite easily... change things, if you understand. He isn't necessarily that strong or clever, either; he wouldn't be hard to take over... After all, the war has stilled. Yet, he has the upper hand- and he takes no action with it. I do believe a wise man would attack while he is strong, instead of waiting until he is frail…”

Interesting. Her ears pricked forward slightly, and she asked in a bored tone, ”So you’ve given this some thought, have you, soldat? Tell, me, just how would you go about this…plan?”

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he was wrong. But she was getting tired of roaming around this desolate mountaintop waiting for him to train her offspring. She wanted entertainment. And it would be his foolish life on the line if he botched the job, not hers. Besides, her little pet was beginning to bore her. The warrior did make a good point…And the spirit. That deep power that had lived inside Rama had obviously not been passed down to the colt. He had landed her with a foal worthless to her, and she for one, did not appreciate the inconvenience. Especially if he was going to choose to associate with that wonderful little darling Sonalane.

Her mind worked, turning the possibilities over. Why not? Ever cautious, she considered her insurance: it would be this warrior who made the moves, not her. And Vici…though worthless for her own purposes, he was Rama’s flesh and blood. She was sure that he could be a very…useful…tool in negotiations with Rama should this whole thing fall through. Why not? The thought repeated in her head over and over, and she smiled slowly, lazily. A new game would do her some good.

--behind the post—
didn’t mention the whole vici thing, but I’ll get there

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[Black Thorns]

"How would I go about it? There are ways, certainly. Personally, as a fan of wrecking someone entirely- we bring him down with his own warriors. They aren't too loyal, really, just out to save their own hides. Should someone, or two, come up and be a better candidate for their protection, then they would switch over in a heartbeat. Of course, pretenses could be kept for quite a while, until near his whole army was under siege. Soon enough we claim his lands-" we? Clever, Scathashoun, just slip it in every once in a while- "as in, we claim the East. We take his homeland first, no doubt gaining more followers. Then, of course, move on from their until Forma Silvestris is one land- led by only you and I, should you lack the cowardice to decline."


"Of course," he continued, "Letting you in, letting you take a share of what is rightly mine... Well, it seems hardly fair to go about without a reward of sorts," He couldn't help the way his eyes flicked to where Vici had disappeared, "After all, I don't believe you should be able to take over on your own. You simply don't have the power, the strength...Nor do you have my manly charm, I would wager." He bit his tongue before adding a side remark about her so-called profession, a smirk curling up his lip. Hopefully the mare likes jokes- he needed her for something, now- if he could procreate from himself only, he surely wouldn't waste time with mares.

He cast another glance at the area where Vici supposedly stood. "Yes, I do believe payment is due..." he murmured to himself, "Long overdue..."

[lady shady]

SHEBA

To hear him speak of Rama’s psychologically weakened army gave her a thrill, a charge of excitement shooting down her spine, making her body tingle in anticipation. To have such power over not one at a time, but many…the new possibilities were endless.

And there he was, the stag offering her a plan (which she would carefully modify where necessary of course, to suit her wishes!) and the know-how to actually do it, to carry it all out. There was, for once, someone with the brains to think it all out before rushing into an attack, and someone with the twisted, yet strategic idea of using the pet’s own warriors to turn on him. Intriguing. She found herself drawn to his intelligence—perhaps attraction, yes perhaps, but nothing too much; this must be considered attraction only when she compared him to the other scum she’d encountered.

”Letting me in, you say?” she laughed, half derisively, ”ah, monsieur, how sweet of you to decide to consider me now!” Sheba took a step towards him, the same lazy smile spreading across her face. ”It is all fine and good, soldat if you enjoy playacting, but let us be honest here—“ the irony of her words failed to register with her here—”you know I’d be doing you a favor y even considering joining you. After all, here you are promising m—us the world. Is this an offer, monsieur? No, don’t be shy now, I’ve seen that look before. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen for me, now! Ah, but it’s too late, I see. Poor thing,” she clucked, moving ever closer. ”I thought you were smart enough to stay away…” At these words, she brushed past him, barely touching him, her side skimming his own.

Sheba’s mind was working away, drawing conclusions and exploring possibilities. If she was to do what she wished, he needed to stay close. He needed to be hers, body and mind. The phantom-grey mare circled him, shaking her head. ”And what makes you think, monsieur, that I will decide to go along with your crazy plans?” She moved closer again, lingering this time for a moment, standing side by side with him, her slight frame sharply contrasting his hulking one. ”But, since you entertain me so, perhaps I shall oblige you somehow as well…”

The grey fae cocked her head slightly at him and glided forward, flicking him with her tail as she passed. Slowly, she swished it, keeping her eyes trained on his face, waiting for the surprise to pass across his features. And nonchalantly, she slipped away, off into a grove where she knew the colt would be quite far away.


--behind the post—
ugh. may edit. late night posts are so not a good idea.

[Black Thorns]

Fallen for her!? Scathashoun felt like striking this mare down for her arrogance. He did not fall for anyone! No. No. He would not love anyone- not now, not ever. He found no lovable qualities in this mare, nothing more than a filthy deposition fit only for a single night. She uld only be there to woserve him- and he would never love her! Never would he look at her in adoration, nor risk his life for her. Right now- right now, he wanted to be the one to take her life! If anything, he only wanted her to bear his child.

You want Rasta to bear your child, fool, he thought. No one else will satisfy you.

They had to, though! They had to. He didn't love her, and she didn't love him. It was as simple as that.

He most definitely did not love... this! Though yelling and cursing out the beast was most tempting, he bit his tongue. She was offering- and she was, indeed, in heat... He wanted bait. She'd stay with him, yes, if he threatened to leave her. She needed to have power, strength, as well as her own wit, to carry out his plan. Of course she would make it seem foolish- otherwise she would appear too eager.

It was safe to say that Scath was beginning to understand the mare rather well. Keeping his face smooth, near expressionless, he followed her as she moved away. Not a word passed between the two- he was, certainly, too enraged to speak. He didn't want to spoil his chance...

____________________________________________________


Scathashoun dismounted, the moment dirty and over rather too quickly for his taste. Nevertheless it was done, and he was certainly not too willing to "try it again". If she wanted it- which he doubted- she would be the one begging. He had work yet to be done. Even if a small part of him wanted her ((small? pssssht)) he had to stay loyal to himself. He wouldn't fall for anyone. Not now. Not ever.

Hadn't he already broken that promise?

[lady shady]

SHEBA

She paused in the clearing, hearing his hoofbeats behind her. For a rare moment, she paused, conflicted. She had sworn off letting stags this close--just look at the nuisance Vici was!—but something about this one was…irresistible. No, never irresistible, simply…appealing. Not that she would ever admit that. Before she had a chance to think it all through though, he had arrived. It was too late to go back now.


She slipped gracefully away from him, infuriated. Her hind end exploded in a kick, and she felt her hoof connect solidly with his face. Good. He deserved it, the scum. She should have never let him this close. And oh horror, if she was pregnant with his…with his…offspring…! No, she would never carry it to term. In fact, she would go off and kill it this minute. ”Don’t expect that to happen again, pourriture,” she hissed. Sheba launched herself away, not bothering to be silent as she rocketed off. Her life was in no danger, but she must do all she could to ensure that this foal would never happen. It wouldn’t live…unless of course he gave her a reason to keep it…

VICI

The foal’s eyelashes fluttered as he imitated the beating of the butterfly’s wings. He had grown tired of trying to watch his mother and his mentor, and when the butterfly had appeared on the warm summer breeze, he could not resist following. He heard the trickle of a stream nearby, and when the butterfly flew off, he paused for a drink. Sighing, he realized that he shouldn’t go farther. It wasn’t worth the risk, infuriating his mother twice in one day. He settled down in the moss, the rays of sun filtering softly through the trees and lighting upon his back. Across the stream, two field mice bent over a cluster of berries, whiskers twitching. He snorted softly, to himself. Was there anyone else out there? The vibration of hoofbeats hummed through the ground. Someone was coming.

--behind the post—
mreh. yuck. but I set it up so that scathy could come get vici.

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[Black Thorns]

"Comme si je devais souhaiter une telle chose sur le cadavre immonde que vous êtes!" he snapped at the quickly vanishing mare. She was quick to snap out at him after he'd finished what she herself had offered to him. He toyed with the sudden idea of rushing after her, overtaking her, destroying her and leaving Vici for himself. Then it dawned on him. She may be carrying his child. His own child could be forming within her at this very moment! A pressing need to protect that little one overcame him, compelling him to drive his hooves against the ground to propel himself towards the little mare.

As he approached, his feet fell still. He stopped. If he demanded her, forced himself around her, she could very well destroy it. He couldn't let that happen- never could he let that happen. The warm breeze stroked his cheek, as if guiding him away from her. Could he leave them both? Could he let her go? Could he let what part of him might be growing inside of her go? He hardly cared for the chest containing his treasure. He did not trust that the treasure should be safe on its own...

Rasta would never try to kill your foal, she never did... Scathashoun though to himself, Not even after what you did to have it come about...

The wind whispered into his ear again, urging him into the forest. Obliging, he felt as if the earth was crumbling beneath his hooves as he galloped. Rasta was long gone- she would never be his. All good things must come to an end. All bad ones go to hell. Was this purgatory? Would he be sent deep below? He knew he would. Was he already there? Was he being lured away from what could have been paradise by a viper, whispering to just taste the forbidden fruit? Eden escaped him and he lived in a wasteland.

He ran, following the wind, until his legs could no longer carry him. Exhaustion overtook his limbs and he found himself still beside a pale foal with a deep red forehead. Perhaps he should deepen the red, paint it so many different shades that the mare would let him be- let him colour her, too, a devilish artwork he would forget all too soon. Forget, forget- he wanted to forget it all. Yet here he was, dipping his head low to blow the fluff of a forelock from that which he thought of killing. He would keep this one safe. This one was his- as was whatever might be inside of the demon. She would not own him.

He would own her.