"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
He’s not entirely sure what’s brought him to the meadow on this particular day. The breeding season is over, and all of the vulnerable mares searching for mates have disappeared back to wherever they had come from. He’d managed to bag a few of them this season - come spring time, four of his little offspring will be waltzing around somewhere in Beqanna. He hopes some of them will inherit his trait, but he won’t really be around to find out.
All of that said, there are no mares in estrus left here today. And yet, his hooves had still carried him to this place. Why? Who knows. Perhaps he wants to know what’s become of the mares that are currently carrying his children.
Quietly, the iron stallion slips to the far side of the meadow, where he can watch the goings on in peace. Perhaps he will spy someone he recognizes soon.
Beg forgiveness,
With some words that mean nothing,
Illusions like smoke in my breath.
Her belly is swollen and her feet ache. Still she pushes on, wandering around the meadow in search of meager scraps of food. Since she left the Chamber, Branka had been wandering. Locked up in her head, a prisoner of her thoughts. She hadn't felt at home there anyway. The Chamber was a cruel mistress and Branka had never been very good at listening. She used to be a warrior, a guardian. Now she was little better than a broodmare.
Looking back on what happened she would blame it on the way moonlight reflected off the curves of his body, or the way he tracked her like a predator. Either way here she was, alone in the meadow, pregnant, and scrounging for scraps. Her buckskin hide has lost it's sheen and the scars along her flanks and legs are buried beneath her winter coat. She feels a strange love and disgust for the creature gaining strength in her womb, she had always thought about being a mother but this wasn't quite what she expected.
It is as she is ambling around in the snow that she spots him. The spot of darkness that filled her belly with life. She pauses debating on whether she should approach. She studies the way he gazes out over the meadow as if searching for something but with an arrogance that never quite leaves his eyes or stance. She lets out a deep breath and snort that turns to mist in the air and walks towards him. The metal man that changed her life.
06-02-2015, 02:02 AM (This post was last modified: 06-02-2015, 02:02 AM by Khaos.)
He finds himself wondering what his children will be like. None of the mares he had slept with this past season had shown any inclination wanting to join him in his herd, which means that their children will grow up without his presence in their lives. Part of him is glad - he’s not particularly fond of whiny little brats - but part of him is also a little disappointed. It would be nice to know what they are like - whether or not they take after him at all.
He thinks he would like having a son, or even a daughter, that takes after him. To have a talented little child to raise and mold in his image. He could teach them about his father Carnage, the god, and the power that their family holds. He could teach them all that his mother and grandmother had taught him.
But he won’t have that, not yet anyway. He won’t know the children that he’s produced this breeding season. But who knows what the future holds.
He’s about to slip away into the trees, back to the Silver Cove, when a voice he recognizes rings out in his ears. His iron eyes flick to the side, and there she is. A scarred, buckskin mare. B-something. One of the mares he had wooed this past season. Perhaps his father is blessing him on this day.
His eyes pass over her body, gazing hungrily at the curve of her belly visible beneath her winter coat. What lies beneath her scarred sides? Is there a talented little son or daughter growing within?
His eyes travel back up to hers, and a lazy grin crawls across his face. “Well hello. Fancy seeing you again.” He nods in the direction of her belly. “How fares our little bundle of joy?”
Beg forgiveness,
With some words that mean nothing,
Illusions like smoke in my breath.
Branka feels the foal kick and twist in her belly as her nerves start to rise. The hungry look in the eye of Khaos puts her on edge. But at least the dark man speaks to her. It's a start. She watches him carefully as he speaks and almost cracks a wry smile at his sarcastic tone.
She takes a moment before answering the stallion in order to size him up and organize her thoughts. "The child grows strong, healthy as far as I can tell, and big. I have concerns however." Here she pauses, she wasn't one for begging but her child's wellbeing was more important to her. "We no longer have a place to live. Would you take us in? Or are we expected to make our own way?" The once proud mare feels like a shade of her former self but the last scraps of dignity she had were being thrown at his feet in the hopes that she could build a new life.
Branka takes a step closer to the iron stallion and raises her head to meet his eye. "I don't ask for much, but if you take us in, I would follow you to the ends of the earth and back if it kept our son safe."
If he remembers correctly, she had been a far prouder mare when he had bedded her. It amuses him to see her so reduced. He wonders if their offspring has anything to do with it - he hopes so.
He stays quiet as she speaks, pleased to hear that their child is growing well, despite her obvious change in circumstances, and is amused to hear her concerns. Had she been thrown out of her old home for misconduct? Or had her own change in circumstances prompted her to leave? Either way, this situation could turn out to his advantage. He has been looking to fill his herd after all. “You would be welcome to join me in my territory, Silver Cove.” It would provide him a good opportunity to see how their child turns out, after all. “It has plenty of food, water and space, and I am currently searching for more mares to add to the herd.”
His iron ears perk up when she makes mention of a son. “A boy eh? What makes you so certain of the gender?” He must admit, the idea of an heir appeals to him greatly. And if the boy were to display any talents … he practically salivates at the thought. But there’s no use getting a head of himself. The child isn’t even born yet. “Not only will I take you in, but if the boy proves to be … worthy, I shall even take him under my wing.” If not, well, he is not overly cruel. He would not abandon an untalented child to death. But he certainly won’t show it any favours.
He turns away, looking in the direction of herdland. “Shall we?”
![here](“http://o.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/fss/68ed0c2438b0d60e11a75ab5bdd2323c/khaos.jpg"){kind=link}