xxXX𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄
xxxxxxxx ( the roman god of the sea )
xxxxxxxx ( the roman god of the sea )
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i. charcoal thoroughbred colt. ii. 16.2hh.
iii. 3 years iv. runs on logic & intelligence.
lead mare: n/a | mares: none | foals: none
tagging: cygnus, open | location: grasslands
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( word count: 819 )
i. charcoal thoroughbred colt. ii. 16.2hh.
iii. 3 years iv. runs on logic & intelligence.
lead mare: n/a | mares: none | foals: none
tagging: cygnus, open | location: grasslands
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( word count: 819 )
the charcoal colt stood erect upon a hill, the breeze buffeting his knotted black locks of mane. His nostrils quivered as the wind brought the scents south of him and then blew them onward in the direction he had just come. The grasslands stretched before him, a vast expanse of tall swaying plants that had once been his favorite place to roam. Now the lands merely brought back suppressed memories of colts and fillies he had known, of the solitary life he had lived that instinct urged him to leave behind. Silently the male shifted, his gut churning with anxious anticipation. Instinct willed him onward, and he was growing far too restless to resist the unending thrum in his bones. So he stepped into the grasslands and into the unwavering light, shedding the skin of his former life he went off in pursuit of his future. The one his instincts promised should he seek out his own kind, so he brought his gait up to an easy trot and began his search for fillies to call his own.
It had been a few days, a few never ending days of searching. With his throat parch and the sun eating away at his sweat soaked pelt. He knew he must have appeared miserable and scrawny, though a never ending food supply crunched and swayed beneath every foot-fall. However his search remained, and he would not rest until his eyes had beheld a filly. To inevitably be the first in what was hopefully many fillies to come. Though he knew in his current condition he was in no way prepared to seduce a filly into choosing him as a suitable dominant stallion. This was the thought that spurred him from his fly-swatting slumbers under a rusty old tree. The first of shade besides the sweet release of night in what must have been weeks. It wasn't nearly hot enough outside to be causing such issues, but when you've spent the majority of your efforts chasing a phantom filly through the winding countryside you were more than likely to become winded and exhausted. He was merely paying for the jovial efforts he had spent chasing an imaginary dream down the slopes of red dotted wildflowers and cheery blue skies he had once called home. Far too many memories surfaced at the thought of home. Such trivial thoughts that the colt had little time for. His time as an individual was far past due, it was time to find a filly to call his own. The thoughts drove him mad as each meandering search brought up empty.
One mid-morning he finally came across a small solitary body of water. It was stagnant, which forced the colt to pause for a moment. The warning his fore-fathers had ingrained in his brain thrummed to the surface. However the thought of letting it quench his thirst was enough to send his velvet muzzle to the surface. He drank deeply, savoring every moment. When he finally lifted his muzzle from the glinting water he let his eyes wander his surroundings carefully. Ears pricked his attention caught on a figure in the distance, it was a stark contrast to the grass and blue sky. He lifted his nose to the wind, hoping to catch a whiff of whatever was in the distance. His pulse soared as the scent of a filly reached his nostrils. He let instinct guide him, as he had seen many of those older than him when he had been younger and the plague had yet to send it's strands into his herd's midst. He calmly wound his way to the mare, she was older. Similar to himself, which pleased him because it meant she was more experienced and wasn't a bounding yearling that would be troublesome to gather. As he approached he let out a nicker of greeting, wanting to alert the grazing mare that he was in-fact there.
"hello miss," he introduced his ears pivoting forward to listen for a possible response should she grace him with one. He stood still for the moment, not wanting to gain any more ground until he was confident that she wouldn't bolt at the sight of him, though she didn't appear the skittish type he would take little chances when it came to the first filly he had come across in ages since he had entered the labyrinth of tall grasses. His head held high in confidence, his long legs giving him at least a hand above her. He took this precious time to observe her, he admired her beauty and the tobiano pattern that swirled down her withers and shoulder. She appeared at ease, her graceful neck arching to peer at him. He remained silent, stoic, like a rock that was stubborn even in the roughest of winds. It was in those silent moments that he confirmed it in his mind. She would be his.
It had been a few days, a few never ending days of searching. With his throat parch and the sun eating away at his sweat soaked pelt. He knew he must have appeared miserable and scrawny, though a never ending food supply crunched and swayed beneath every foot-fall. However his search remained, and he would not rest until his eyes had beheld a filly. To inevitably be the first in what was hopefully many fillies to come. Though he knew in his current condition he was in no way prepared to seduce a filly into choosing him as a suitable dominant stallion. This was the thought that spurred him from his fly-swatting slumbers under a rusty old tree. The first of shade besides the sweet release of night in what must have been weeks. It wasn't nearly hot enough outside to be causing such issues, but when you've spent the majority of your efforts chasing a phantom filly through the winding countryside you were more than likely to become winded and exhausted. He was merely paying for the jovial efforts he had spent chasing an imaginary dream down the slopes of red dotted wildflowers and cheery blue skies he had once called home. Far too many memories surfaced at the thought of home. Such trivial thoughts that the colt had little time for. His time as an individual was far past due, it was time to find a filly to call his own. The thoughts drove him mad as each meandering search brought up empty.
One mid-morning he finally came across a small solitary body of water. It was stagnant, which forced the colt to pause for a moment. The warning his fore-fathers had ingrained in his brain thrummed to the surface. However the thought of letting it quench his thirst was enough to send his velvet muzzle to the surface. He drank deeply, savoring every moment. When he finally lifted his muzzle from the glinting water he let his eyes wander his surroundings carefully. Ears pricked his attention caught on a figure in the distance, it was a stark contrast to the grass and blue sky. He lifted his nose to the wind, hoping to catch a whiff of whatever was in the distance. His pulse soared as the scent of a filly reached his nostrils. He let instinct guide him, as he had seen many of those older than him when he had been younger and the plague had yet to send it's strands into his herd's midst. He calmly wound his way to the mare, she was older. Similar to himself, which pleased him because it meant she was more experienced and wasn't a bounding yearling that would be troublesome to gather. As he approached he let out a nicker of greeting, wanting to alert the grazing mare that he was in-fact there.
"hello miss," he introduced his ears pivoting forward to listen for a possible response should she grace him with one. He stood still for the moment, not wanting to gain any more ground until he was confident that she wouldn't bolt at the sight of him, though she didn't appear the skittish type he would take little chances when it came to the first filly he had come across in ages since he had entered the labyrinth of tall grasses. His head held high in confidence, his long legs giving him at least a hand above her. He took this precious time to observe her, he admired her beauty and the tobiano pattern that swirled down her withers and shoulder. She appeared at ease, her graceful neck arching to peer at him. He remained silent, stoic, like a rock that was stubborn even in the roughest of winds. It was in those silent moments that he confirmed it in his mind. She would be his.
XXXXXXX
xxXX𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀
xxxxxxxx ( the roman goddess of wisdom )
xxxxxxxx ( the roman goddess of wisdom )
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i. grey andalusian filly. ii. 14.5hh. iii. loner
iv. 2 years. v. runs on compassion & kindness
stallion: n/a | fillies: none | colts: none
tagging: open | location: lone watering hole
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( word count: 664 )
i. grey andalusian filly. ii. 14.5hh. iii. loner
iv. 2 years. v. runs on compassion & kindness
stallion: n/a | fillies: none | colts: none
tagging: open | location: lone watering hole
───────────────────────────
( word count: 664 )
The grey filly dozed from the safety of a nearby grove. It's shelter a welcome sight after vast expanses of little cover. The skittish female finally felt at ease enough to snag a few well earned hours of rest. She had spent the days prior hunting the land for food and drink. Though the filly had purposefully evaded water, due to the prospect of predators or even her kind being present. She didn't feel ready yet to face the endless possibilities her own kind provided. Her mother had schooled her often, that in the near future she might be selected by a stallion and that it was her job to decide whether he would be worth her time or not. If he was a decent stallion whom looked like he'd be capable of protecting offspring or herself, then she was to take him as her stallion. It wasn't that hard to understand nor process, her mother had insisted.
Yet the thought of coming across such a colt, a thundering, courageous colt who would protect her and welcome her seemed the furthest possibility for minerva. They were all far too intimidating, if only her mother could have known. She felt deep down that her herd would have been disappointed in what a coward the young filly had become in the short months following the plague's grip on her herd. Her mother's dying wish was that she run for the hills and never return, even her mother had the common sense to realize that the plague would spread it's grip on the land like wildfire catching to dry grass. She had done just that, her head held high but her eyes showing the whites of fear. The unknown swathing her in layers of doubt and caution. The machines of the humans did little to drive out the building anxiety that constantly swirled in her gut. When they had left, everything she had ever known was gone. She had done as her mother had instructed, but the cost was unimaginable. Left in a world that she still had barely a grip on, alone. Now that spring had arrived, and the wildflowers dotted the horizon in soft colorful bundles. The female wished to remain in the blissful morning forever, though that moment was long forgotten as a twig snapped somewhere nearby. Minerva went rigid her ears stiff, body trembling and nostrils flaring as she prepared her fight or flight response. Her gaze fixated on a nearby bush, her once welcome sanctuary quickly turned to the last place she ever desired to be.
With this thought in mind the filly fled her sanctuary, thundering over the grass a mere streak of white against the dotting pansy's. Still quivering as she skid to a stop in the center of no where in particular she heaved a long exhale. Once again her desire for sleep and water berated her instincts. It was time to approach the water and whatever lay there for her to discover. With this thought in mind minerva began her search to quench her thirst and face the inevitable. Finding the lone watering hole was a challenge that minerva had grudgingly taken up. She approached it cautiously, knowing very well that predators needed to drink just as well as she. However, once she had deemed it clear she dipped her head and drank greedily. In the short time she had been deprived of it she had forgotten how delightful it was.
She let out a soft huff before turning to let her nervous gaze skirt her surroundings. Every rustle of a bush, every squawk of a bird threatened to send the filly off the nearest cliff in fear. Yet she schooled her emotions and forced them down in her gut, letting a calm wash over her features instead. If she was to gain the attention of a colt then she'd need to keep better control of her fear. Lest it be her downfall when it came to protection. It took a few moments but finally the scent and sound of others of her kind wafted towards her nostrils and ears. She lifted her head towards the sound and slowly walked along the bank of the watering hole until her eyes found the source of the commotion. Two stallions, two mares and a mare with a colt. The sight of the colt confused her for a moment, but it wasn't any of her business so she left it at that.
Yet the thought of coming across such a colt, a thundering, courageous colt who would protect her and welcome her seemed the furthest possibility for minerva. They were all far too intimidating, if only her mother could have known. She felt deep down that her herd would have been disappointed in what a coward the young filly had become in the short months following the plague's grip on her herd. Her mother's dying wish was that she run for the hills and never return, even her mother had the common sense to realize that the plague would spread it's grip on the land like wildfire catching to dry grass. She had done just that, her head held high but her eyes showing the whites of fear. The unknown swathing her in layers of doubt and caution. The machines of the humans did little to drive out the building anxiety that constantly swirled in her gut. When they had left, everything she had ever known was gone. She had done as her mother had instructed, but the cost was unimaginable. Left in a world that she still had barely a grip on, alone. Now that spring had arrived, and the wildflowers dotted the horizon in soft colorful bundles. The female wished to remain in the blissful morning forever, though that moment was long forgotten as a twig snapped somewhere nearby. Minerva went rigid her ears stiff, body trembling and nostrils flaring as she prepared her fight or flight response. Her gaze fixated on a nearby bush, her once welcome sanctuary quickly turned to the last place she ever desired to be.
With this thought in mind the filly fled her sanctuary, thundering over the grass a mere streak of white against the dotting pansy's. Still quivering as she skid to a stop in the center of no where in particular she heaved a long exhale. Once again her desire for sleep and water berated her instincts. It was time to approach the water and whatever lay there for her to discover. With this thought in mind minerva began her search to quench her thirst and face the inevitable. Finding the lone watering hole was a challenge that minerva had grudgingly taken up. She approached it cautiously, knowing very well that predators needed to drink just as well as she. However, once she had deemed it clear she dipped her head and drank greedily. In the short time she had been deprived of it she had forgotten how delightful it was.
She let out a soft huff before turning to let her nervous gaze skirt her surroundings. Every rustle of a bush, every squawk of a bird threatened to send the filly off the nearest cliff in fear. Yet she schooled her emotions and forced them down in her gut, letting a calm wash over her features instead. If she was to gain the attention of a colt then she'd need to keep better control of her fear. Lest it be her downfall when it came to protection. It took a few moments but finally the scent and sound of others of her kind wafted towards her nostrils and ears. She lifted her head towards the sound and slowly walked along the bank of the watering hole until her eyes found the source of the commotion. Two stallions, two mares and a mare with a colt. The sight of the colt confused her for a moment, but it wasn't any of her business so she left it at that.
