Scylla
11 years•Lone mare• Sultry, bored• tagged: Corpse, Morgue, Charybdis, Brownie, Cookie
It was fine weather. The fingers of winter were drawing back, small crystals of frost clinging stubbornly to blades of grass, nearly invisible unless viewed from a certain angle, glinting gently in the light. When one walked, there was a satisfying crush under one’s weight. The light was bright but not overbearing, and the weather was a gentle chill that had neither the bite of cold nor the itch of pollen.
All in all, it was a satisfactory day.
But that was what made it perfectly unsatisfactory. With nothing to annoy nor delight her, Scylla grazed in the meadow, securely bored, set on putting on some of the weight she’s lost during the winter. Her winter coat still hung heavy upon her shoulders, making her usually lean body look a little firmer, but also layering the deep red of her coat a milder orange. Perhaps she could call her sister to help get some of it off, but Scylla was in no rush.
In the height of spring, most would be preening, dancing in the rays of the sun as band stallions tried to get mares and mares watched them all, picking those who would give them a foal most likely to survive the winter. But Scylla had grown into her wits and her lithe physique, and had little to worry about. Let everyone get in a frenzy-she could be covered by many a stallion, and had sired beautiful offspring. No matter what happened, she would get exactly what she wanted.
When a loud neigh entered the air, Scylla’s ears pricked forward, as if considering her options. As she did, a sweet reply drifted through the air, and Scylla stopped eating now, lifting her head as she seemed to consider her choices. She didn’t need a stallion at the moment, given how the worst of the winter was over, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy how conflicted and needy stallions could get, falling over themselves when faced with a mare for the claiming. What more if there were two? Where would you go?
Decision made, Scylla let out a low rumble of a neigh, letting it travel through the air, audible but neither excited nor aggressive, and yet undecidedly that of a mare. That done, she waited for a moment, before letting her head fall once more to graze anew, curious to see what her effort would bring.
Charybdis
11 years• Lone mare• Excitable, invigorated • tagged: Corpse, Morgue, Scylla, Brownie, Cookie•heat stage 0
Finally, spring!
Leaning her full weight against a tree trunk and ignoring it’s creak of protest, Chary let out a rumble of pleasure as she divested herself of her fluffy winter’s coat. When faced with one’s excitement, it was easy to assume that Chary had had a terrible winter, but it was actually quite the opposite. Sure, she’d lost her herd, which was a shame, but her sister found them good grass, and Chary was nothing if not a hardy little mare.
No, her enthusiasm was borne fully out of a vivacity for life. Since she was born, Chary had only the will to enjoy her life to the fullest, and age had only given her a body better equipped to deal with the situations she’d bumbled herself into. That was something to be said at least, that she could step out of what she stepped into unharmed-though that wasn’t always the case for people who came with her.
The mishap had been as much, Chary having wandered too far when a mountain lion had come, separating both herself and Scylla from their herd, though Scylla didn’t seem particularly pressed to go back. They’d stayed in the area, hoping to catch a scent of their former herd, but no luck so far. It was a shame, though. They’d left behind a beautiful filly that would have turned two in spring, and Chary had been curious to see how their treasure would deal with their first season.
Lost in thought, Chary had been fully ignoring all the calls about her, engrossed in her thoughts and scratches-she was essentially creating a flurry of fur all about her, which looked quite amusing as well. However, when her sister’s call entered the air, Chary looked up, curious.
For such independent personalities, it was strange how the both of them never left the other’s sides, through foals and stallions and 11 years of life. But it wasn’t strange to Chary. They often spent time apart, having different tastes and curiosities, but like two poles of a magnet, they always found their way back to each other, it was their natural baseline, and Chary didn’t question it. They were simply better when they existed by each other.
As such, Chary started moving, her hooves bringing her steadily to her sister’s side. Nudging Scylla gently, she was treated with a soft sigh and methodical, if slightly distracted, teeth upon her shoulder. Whipping her tail in delight, Chary returned the favour.
Winter’s Détente (Dee)
8 years• Lone stallion• Deep in thought, Curious• tagged: Jesse
It would be different this year. Ears slightly leaning back at the thought of last year, Dee snorted, deep in thought. He’d managed to gather a sizable herd, protecting them well into summer, only to have them stolen away by an older stallion upon the cusp of autumn. Stung and thoroughly defeated, he’d had to slink his return to his bachelor herd, where he’d spent the winter nursing his wounds and training his body, practice fighting with the other bachelors so this wouldn’t happen again.
Right off the bat, he’d separated himself from his bachelor band, heading to the center of the action, but upon seeing the older, larger males in the center, had paused, settling in to wait. That was a fight he would lose, and whilst he had nothing to lose at the moment, Dee had no interest in getting into a show of strength this early. Not like a young, golden bachelor flaunting in the center of it. That might get one attention, perhaps even let one cover a few mares, but Dee’s days of skulking around were over. He wanted a family, one he could love and protect, and expend his efforts.
He would bide his time.
As he thought of it, he suddenly saw a flash of red. Pausing, he looked up, seeing a dark coloured mare travelling through the forest, a brindle pattern upon her coat. Perking his ears, he let out a gentle whinny, calling to her softly so as not to startle her. Drawing closer, he paused, not wanting to come too close and scare her. “Hello.” He rumbled quietly, extending his head toward her in an offer to exchange scents. “My name is Winter’s Detente, but Dee for short. Who are you?”
A Forgotten Tale (Memory)
6 years•Lone mare• Spooked, unsure• Tagged: Leo•Heat stage 2
She was alone.
The truth of it was a terrifying thing, sliding under her skin, lodging under her ribs. Eyes flared and ears pricked, Memory trekked through the forest, working herself into a sweat though she wasn’t certain what she was running from, or where she was heading to. She’d been in a wonderful band, with a tolerant stallion and a firm lead mare, and had drawn deeply upon their support when her foal had been born at the tail end of winter, but a bachelor had attempted to snake the band and she’d gotten lost in the confusion. She’d hidden away, but now that everything was over she was unable to find her hand once more, and the news sent a deep panic through her being. Where was everyone?
Moving quickly, Memory suddenly saw the shape of a horse and hurried forward, letting out an excited, calling whinny to the other. Coming closer, it was a white stallion, his coat flecked with beautiful dark spots, and Memory almost second guessed herself. He looked so beautiful.
Once close enough, she stopped herself from coming too close, not wanting to get snapped at. She’d lived long enough to know that no matter how excited she might be to see others, they might not feel the same way. “I thought I was all alone out there.” She said softly, ears perked and curious now that she had some company.
Rituals Under Twilight (Voodoo)
3 years•Lone mare• Exploratory, celebratory• Tagged: open• Heat stage 0
All it took was a change of perspective.
A young mare of 3 years, Voodoo grazed in a meadow, marveling at the scene around her. She'd newly left her birth herd, and her new independence made everything seem different. The leaves were greener, the shadows more cooling and even the air had a brightness to it that Voodoo hadn't felt before.
She'd wanted to leave earlier, having come of age last year, but she'd had an overprotective dam and sire who'd asked her to stay for a little longer, especially with how many foals they'd had last year, and Voodoo had been reluctant, but she eventually agreed.
But she was now one year older, and when they tried the same thing she firmly refused and set out on her way. It wasn't like she didn't think there were dangers out there, and Voodoo had met many mares and stallions that would never have left their herds if not for their parents shoving them out when it was time, but surely it was time for a reason, right? There was an entire new segment of life to be explored, and Voodoo would not be kept from it any longer.
Rolling in a meadow, the glossy bay rolled in the meadow, reveling in the smell of upturned soil. Getting up, she was overcome with a surge of energy and let out a buck, loping about the meadow as she shook out her mane. What a great day it was!
