Dark hooves drug the ground, long legs pulling the mare towards her destination. This new beqanna was far from the one she had heard of. It was calm, quiet. Far different than the rough waters she came from.
Much like her previous choice of residency the mare was laced with the thick scent of salt and wood, an underlying sense of malice wafting from the very marrow of her bones.
As the azure waters of the fall came into view, the mare slowed to a stop, charcoal muzzle raising to the sky before lowering to her hide.
She took this moment to let her blue hues travel over the broken path of her body. She was a wondrous mix of brown hues and broken white splotches. The whole map of it faded into a chocolate brown mane and tail, the plush hairs fading into a light hue.
For a moment she watched the muscles move and twitch beneath her skin. For a moment she was calm, and then her head turned back to the sky, a blood-curdling screech ripping its way from her sand covered throat.
It was a challenge, welcoming in those who dared, warning away those who could not handle the new mare's rough terrain.
Now she could only wait and see.
(OOC: Lil is a more evil lady *wo* but I do suggest other characters like her? I dunno. Approach with care???)
08-18-2017, 08:53 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-18-2017, 08:54 PM by Chemdog.)
“ Now why the yelling?” The large stallion is not visible at first, his coal colors and bright speckles, his bone white face, it is all hidden in the shadows – blended perfectly so the naked eye cannot see. He slithers out into the light, close but not close enough for an attack to take him by surprise. The hostility is heavy on the air, he can taste it; it excites him. She’s clearly waiting for someone to fall victim to her tired routine and Chem is delighted to play along, surely.
He wears a wide grin and makes a half circle around her, still he remains at a safe and fleeable distance. His teal eyes lock with hers and he chuckles aloud, “ Don’t you know you can be stolen off in this place? And I’m sure no one would save such a venomous looking girl,” He leans in for a quick sniff and when or if she lunges for him he will dive away with a screech of his own, kicking out and laughing a little more. “ But I will. I can be either.” He grins and halts to face her, “ I can be a villain or a hero – which do you want, lady friend?”
chemdog astra inclinant, sed non obligant.
@[Lillith Elvira] <3
The ebony stag was silent in his approach. His movements like smoke as he fled her view. Gracefully daunting. She does not turn as he makes his way around her, for she is not afraid. She welcomed events such as these, though as he reached forward for a whiff she released a short puff of air.
He spoke, though she did not give him the luxury of a reply. She simply watched the piebald stallion, assessing him as he made his way around her. Much like her ancestors, the mare had the thick tail of the forest horse, and it curled tentatively around her legs as she turned her head to him.
If one was not careful they would be easily swayed by her, it wasn't often that the painted mare found herself struggling to play her own game. Though the air around the stallion proved challenging. His own squeal a signal that he was game.
She scoffed at his question, rolling her pale blue hues to the side.
"Heroes do not exist, so I shall leave you to decide."
Her voice was like the waterfall that pounded so powerfully into the earth before them. It had the easy slide like azure over rocks, but the sharp edge of it tumbling over the drop and into the calm lake below.
To many the voice was alluring. Much like a light in dark woods, it was beckoning but dangerous.
They face each other now, her own blue hues boring into his.
It was a dark mirror of muscle and mass. Elvira was sure they could hold their own if it came down to the worst. Though she wasn't sure if the stallion would give up.
This, however, did not sway the appaloosa, and her gaze merely intensified.
It isn't unusual to find the stallion roaming, black body traveling across Beqanna's lands - fast paced, menacing, ignoring most who approach him, but taking sadistic pleasure in outsmarting those who seem worthy of it.
Which brings him to the field - a common ground for the "homeless" of Beqanna...or, in his case, for those who do not seek a home at all. Many stare down at him as he passes - he is used to it, and honestly, he does not care. His size means nothing to him...all that matters is his mind. His mind is what surpasses most people in his path.
He hears her call from a mile away - a beckoning...a challenge. The small, but mighty stag feels the edges of his lips tug into a mischievous smile. Maybe someone worth going to...maybe not. He would soon find out. His short legs must travel at a quick pace to keep up with his curiosity - and once he arrives, he stays hidden in the grasses that tower over his frame - something most can not do...unless, of course, their genetics allow it.
He is not the first to respond to the mare's call...a shadow stallion approaches her - he is massive, easily twice the height of Modicum Mortem. Of course, height is just a trait...it doesn't mean much. Life is but strategy; if you are hungry enough, if you are unyielding in your cause, something as minuscule as height will not deter you.
Mortem watches as the stallion encircles the spotted mare, his words like venom. He is swift in his words, and in his actions. From his spot in the grasses, he sees the tenacious stallion grin as he is able to steal a sniff of the mare without so much as a huff from her end. He could be a deserving colleague...or adversary, whichever works.
The mare, however, is unswayed by his wicked charm. She responds with the flick of her tail; her tongue is biting, eyes intensely burning into the shadow's. What would come of this interaction? Mortem not only intended to find out...he intended to be involved. They both seemed like him - intelligent, manipulative...evil. But, he couldn't be certain; so he stayed hidden in the grasses, eyes gazing at them to see what their intentions were before he would reveal himself.
All life was, was a waiting game.
You know when you can feel someone watching? Yeah, that’s the feeling Chem has just now, it cloaks his skin in prickles but he ignores the notion. Let them watch. He wonders if it is someone from Hyaline – or even better, an enemy of his new home. He knows not the politics but it’s never a bad move to harass the opposition’s trainers, educators or scholars. He knows better than to drop any sort of guard now that he’s laid allegiance to the Lake. He keeps an ear to the shuffling grasses but does not scan them for now, leaving whoever might be spying to do their spying in peace.
"Heroes do not exist, so I shall leave you to decide."
Well how boring of her. Surely he expected those fierce eyes to be guarding something a little deeper then that. He laughs aloud and realigns himself broadside to her; this allows him to have an eye on both sides of him, the mare and the mysterious someone or not someone creeping in the distance. “ It sounds as if you’re in need of a villain then, if heroes do not exist in your world.” He casts a brief stare to whatever may be lurking, he sees nothing and finds the mare again. “ Ah then, now that jokes and pesky small talk is out of our way, let us be serious.” He draws a clearing breath, “ My name is Chemdog, and I am of Hyaline, to the north. And you, whomever you are, are here for a reason, I assume.” He smirks coolly and slashes his tail from side to side. “ If you follow me, I can offer you a home – choices abound. You can bunk with me or serve the Kingdom, or both, but either way you’ll have a home by the lake in the north.” He watches her carefully, his ears twitching and teal eyes unblinking.
chemdog astra inclinant, sed non obligant.
@[Lillith Elvira] && @[Modicum Mortem]
yesssss! <333
She was unsure as to why their stalker stayed hidden. For why not come and join the fun the two were soon to have? The painted queen allowed the stallion's words to hang in the air for a few moments. The silence hanging thickly in the trees.
You may bunk with me or serve the kingdom.
The line played over and over in her bustling mind. It amused her. As his body came to a stop beside her, her flank pressed to his own, she side stepped. The first movement from her in their time together.
"I serve no one."
Her tone was thick with an underlying message. The dark one would not be used as a slave, a warrior, a toy, she wouldn't be used as anything for that matter. Their guest shifts and the keen hearing she holds catches this.
She begins to move, powerful legs pulling her into the circle the painted one had taken around her. Her movements held a grace to them not often seen. A gait reminiscent of early fog. Soft and slow.
"I shall go nowhere where I will not be viewed as what I am."
She allows this to sink in, not yet elaborating on what it is she might be. For she wants them to guess. She is drawing out the game, hoping they would play along.
She knew that though the other would not make themselves known, they were listening. And the voice that slipped out of her dark muzzle was enough to lure them out if they dared.
"I have lived everywhere. I have experienced most, and have done it all. I have had others worship the very ground I walk upon, and those who spit in my eyes."
Her eyes were trained on the ground as she walked, the circle growing tighter with every loop.
"I have been ridiculed, and lied to, but my enemies have not survived."
She is closer to the painted one now, and before they may touch she is gone again. A fleeting wave.
"It is you Chemdog that interests me now. You are cunning, I can tell. Strong and witty in your ways. Why is it that you allow others to rule you?"
She stops before him, head cocked in an almost comical manner. She is not backing down, neither is she stopping. For she has just begun.
"Why let them walk all over you when you could push them to their knees and make them beg? I simply do not understand."
She is walking again, a soft hum beginning deep within her chest. It is a call for the unspoken one, the other who lurks within the trees.
"There is a time when you must play dumb, allow others to think you are inferior. Less than them in every way. And there is a time when you must use your head to accomplish greatness, bring the very mountains to your feet without changing the weather. Now tell me Chemdog, what do you choose?"
The ebony stallion stayed hidden deep in the underbrush, watching a scene before him unfold. The shadow turns his body towards the hostile mare, ears pricked directly at the coal stag. Mortem is aware of what he is doing - he has heard him, and he is trying to see if Mortem can be found. Unphased, Modicum Mortem continues to listen as the silhouette reveals his name - Chemdog...a strange, but oddly fitting title. He informs the mare that she can come with him to his home - Hyaline, the lake - and take a position in the kingdom.
A recruitment? How boring. He certainly figured Chemdog would've had something far more interesting that would lead him to the unnamed femme. He rolls his eyes slightly, and continues to stalk.
"I serve no one."
Her tongue is biting. Uninviting. Cold. Calculated. The comment is truly nasty.
If Modicum Mortem wasn't interested before, he certainly is now.
The mare begins to circle the shadow, continuing her rant. She is nearly floating as she walks, circle growing tighter with every word. Then, just as she is about to touch the shadow, she has stepped away. She is graceful in a brief moment, but demeaning with every remark. She degrades him, talks down to him, shunning him for becoming a cog in another horse's machine.
A deserving partner indeed.
Just like Mortem, she wants to take over the world, have it bow to her. She wants everyone to fall to their knees when she walks by, unable to look into her piercing eyes. He knows this feeling all too well...and he wants a part of it.
The stallion emerges from the bushes, approaching the two equines in front of him. He doesn't wait for Chemdog's response, because frankly he doesn't care. It is her he is interested in...the shadow has become an afterthought. They are both taller than him, the stallion to a shocking degree. He smirks fiendishly.
"Sorry to interrupt," He begins, sarcasm seeping into every word. "But I couldn't help but 'overhear' your conversation." He exchanges a glance between each of them, ice blue eyes piercing theirs. "You are quite the interesting pair, indeed." He looks over to the mare.
"You," His eyes travel across the pattern of her body. "To answer your question...life is but a game. Your mind is your only line of defense...but you should never act inferior, if you know you are not." A grin stretches across his lips. "Unless...you are. And this is just an act so others give you attention."
The stallion says this coldly. A test. He wants to see the fire in her response, he wants to pour gas on the flame...he wants to ignite her temper. He keeps a close eye on each of them, preparing himself for a quick escape if she decides his comment was enough to fight about...women: such drama queens.
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