ℓιғɛ ιƨ α иιɢнтмαяɛ ~ ℓιтɛяαтɛ нσяƨɛ яσℓɛρℓαʏ ~ σρɛи

[Concept]

ʞɔɪʁT
Lone Mare



He was smarter than she gave him credit for... even if he wasn't smart enough to heed her call.

The yawning gap was left uncrossed, leaving the winter air to quietly moan as it passed through the cracks. She could hear him more than see him; he was the hollow sound of hooves and the heaves of breath, along with the strong tang of 'horse' scent that carried on the wind and tickled her nostrils. If he were going for stealth, he had failed, but there had been something so obvious and deliberate in every movement and hard hoof-beat that there was no way he could have wanted to leave unnoticed. It wasn't a question of if more horses would follow, it was a question of when, and which.

The idea set her ears back.

"Not going to cross?" No... no, he wasn't, but the taunt was still a bite at the edge of her voice. The mare had glimpsed enough of hooves flashing in the moonlight to see how the stallion had stopped in his tracks. A foolish horse would have plunged headlong after her and paid the price. A horse with the sense to know when to leave well enough along never would have chased her to begin with, and would have left the mare to her nightly, dangerous run.

This stallion did neither, and if his question was some sort of taunt or challenge, he was hiding it well.

"Really." Her hoof stamped hard onto the frozen ground. Putting weight on the other still stung, and after her run, the muscles up er leg screamed for any kind of rest they could. There was no questioning the chance of a bruise; it was going to be an ugly one and she hadn't helped herself at all by running. But that was her own problem. Her tail flicked, the ends snapping against the chilled air as she stepped further into the light and lifted her head high.

She could just barely see him, long legs and a hide the color of clouds in the season of rain. Why he was still here, she didn't know. Why didn't he just give up, and go back to his Herd? A soft snort sent a cloud of mist into the night. "You didn't catch me." She was still free to go; all it would take would be a a flick of the tail and her haunches would be his last sight of her.

But she didn't. "It's Trick." Finally, both ears turned toward him. "Why?"

[ɾïṿεṉḋεll]

eвony вlacĸвιrd
{ вlacĸвιrd } { ѕυвordιnaтe мare } { ѕpanιѕн мυѕтang }

Dipping her head slightly as she thought about the stallion's answer, the deep ebony mare whinnied out two, often used words: "Thank you, Onyx. I hope that it is something for the better, and none for the worse." She then trotted away to where she and her brother had been sleeping side by side. She saw the depression in the grass, for no other horse could leave an imprint as large as theirs combined. Heaving a small sigh, she sank to her knees and leaned over, folding her long, thin legs beneath her body as she lay down. Looking around , Blackbird sighed again and lowered her head to the earth, even if the scent of the soil was muted, it stll calmed her at her brother's fright. What had he seen? Blackbird shrugged to no one, and her hazy, tired mind began to sink into a deep blackness, not caring who she was, what any trouble was, what was wrong, what the bad -or good- thing the deer were afraid of was. Warmpth washed over her and she sank into a peaceful dream.

She was bounding through the sea, salt water spray flying up behind her as she kicked up her back hooves. Rolling in the surf, jumping on the sand, chasing the waves and letting them chase her. All alone. She was lonely, but she felt a sense of love around her, as if she was being nuzzled by a mate. Suddenly, a gray horse without really any shape, eye color, or distinctive features was there. Blackbird somehow knew that this was her love, her mate, her friend, even if she didn't know who he was, or even his name. They played in the surf together, and Blackbird had the rime of her life, running around with this stranger whom she loved. She was having such a nice time, and when darkness fell they lay on the beach together, watching the night sky. A shooting star fell, and he whispered in her ear, 'Make a wish, my love' then she spoke. 'I wish that I could stop time, stay in this moment forever, never stopping,' and he smiled. 'Me too,' and Blackbird felt him nuzzle her neck as she drifted off into a dreamless cycle of sleep. She drifted about in the blackness, feeling happy, as if she'd just been praised, fed something warm, run for a while, and talked with her family. Even if they where dead. But then, she thought, Isn't sleep a pathway to the dead? Aren't we half dead when we slumber, only to rise when we are awakened? Or is it just me?

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{. Oh geeze, sorry for a really late reply, and Writer's Block. :s Urg, I'll make next post longer, but for now, this is all I can scrounge up.

ѕтorмвreaĸer
{ ѕтorмвreaĸer } { ѕυвordιnaтe ѕтallιon } { ѕpanιѕн мυѕтang }

Stormbreaker shivered. Trick. The word echoed inside his head, riviting itself into his skull. No, he would not be forgetting her name quickly. "Trick," he murmured softly, mostly to himself, Storm was sure that the mare - no, she had a name now, Trick- couldn't hear him uttering what she was called. Lifting his face to answer her question, he breathed out slightly, his breath billowing out of his wide nostrils in great plumes. He thought about it. He pondered. Why had he asked her name? Was it just to be kind? A gentleman? He didn't know, so Stormbreaker decided to wing it. "Why not?" he asked, his voice ringing across the gap. So close, but yet, so very, very far away. "I want to know what your name is. It's just a nice thing to ask, where I come from. By the way, I'm Stormbreaker. Just call me Storm, everyone does," whinnied Storm. For the first time, he took in the mare's appearance.

Long, lean legs connected to a slender body to mirror them. A runner. No wonder Trick had been so much faster than Storm, even without her major head start, she could've easily outrun him. Sorrel markings or a orangish-brown covered her body, but all four of her legs where stockings in white. She had brown eyes, which next to his deep, dark ones, Storm thought that they were light. He knew what color his eyes were because Blackbird had told him. Then, he saw the lump on her shoulder. He had caused that. A fresh, painful wave of guilt washed over Stormbreaker. That huge, painful bruise had been caused by him. His fault.
"I really am sorry about your leg, Trick. Is there anything I can do to help you with it?" Stormbreaker prepared himself to leap over the gap, hopefully, she wouldn't mind being on the same side of the gouge in the earth, but he hesitated. What if Trick thought that he was going to harm her? That would never do. Storm wanted to emphasize that he wasn't going to hurt her, especially after he had given her a nice and nasty bruise on her shoulder.

[Concept]

ʞɔɪʁT
Lone Mare



It took no more than a word to set her ears back again.

The world was a harsh place. Family had taught her as much in some respects, but life and it's daily trials had done the rest well enough on it's own. Was not the air around them so cold that not even raindrops could fall, painful to the lungs and irritating to the skin and senses? Was not the earth so frozen that just the act of walking was jarring to the legs? Winter itself was harsh enough as part of the world without mention of other things, things like the very gap that lay between them, or the predators that would see the bruise on her side and know she had some weakness.

Maybe those thoughts were why she tossed her head up and let out a snort, sending mist into the darkened heavens. "There's no room for sorry in this life, Stormbreaker." The forest was quiet for now, though there was no promise that such a thing was going to remain that way. Every moment the two horses stood, separated and motionless, was another moment where the danger expounded upon itself. Trick was never anything but watchful. Her ears may have been set back, but they were moving, listening to the world around her as light brown eyes locked with all the ferocity of a scorned wolverine onto the stallion.

Amid the frozen land, with the moonlight and dust of his coat, he was hard to see. "Go back."

He wasn't the loner type, in the same way that she wasn't the herd type. Just the idea of the old lesson 'safety in numbers' made the mare shake her head with all the violence of something trying to dislodge an annoying swarm of flies. And he acted as if he could help her with the bruise forming on her shoulder? The pain was more noticeable now, an ache that sharpened when weight was added onto the limb. And add she did. There was nothing more said as the mare turned away, stepping onto the path once more with the deliberate step of someone planning on leaving and not wanting to be followed.

She didn't plan on her bruised leg giving out with sudden and unexpected weakness, sending her into a lurch that nearly felled her before she regained balance with a stubborn noise. "Great." Her exit was ruined, but it didn't stop her from moving forward still, forcing the limb to bear her weight.