Sabin's Teepee

[Sabin Duvert]

Arabian Nights, Part 1
RP with Kasim and Durriyah

Kasim stood on the sandy bluff, eyes narrowed in concentration as he watched the caravan creep across the desert. The sun was barely keeping above the dip of the dunes,and soon would be swallowed by the ever-hungry desert. That was when he would strike.

Tonight, Kasim worked alone. A sore shoulder was his current reminder of a soured alliance. He had parted ways with the older thief after he had received a swift kick when the stallion had found the coins he had kept tucked in the folds of his tack. Kasim had been expecting a double-cross, and had learned to keep secrets for just such an occasion. The stallion had accused him of lying to him, stealing from him. Life was often a cruel twist for Kasim. Had he not kept some spoils to himself, he likely would have been cut off from all the profit. And the hatred and words that the stallion had spit were not new to the crossbreed. He had learned things from the older stallion, though, and Kasim took what he could from this world.

Now, though, he hesitated to consider himself fortunate. The caravan was small - though there were guards. Certainly, they must be protecting something vaulable. And Kasim did have one advantage that many of the other nomads and thieves lacked. The very things that had earned him so much hatred, and kasim sometimes thought, Jealousy - his wings.

As soon as the sun was consumed, Kasim took to flight, heading for the cart.

Durriyah was bored, lazily scratching her rear on the corner of the shaded cart she was in, being transported to some unseen location. Sure, it was unladylike, but no one was watching. Well, no one besides her father, who kept giving her disapproving stares through the slotted window from the outside. This horse-stall on wheels was hot and uncomfortable; though shaded from the searing sun, the heat was nearly suffocating. Thankfully the sun was settling, and perhaps she would be granted a reprieve.

She shook her head, the layers of finely crafted jewelry making a windchime like song. She had always been treated like some sort of exotic, delicate flower - being groomed and cultivated from the moment she was able to stand herself on her small golden hooves. She was brushed three times a day, and always got the finest food. But today was the first time she could remember even being so trussed up. She was decked to the nines in bright jewelry and fine silk. Her mane and tail, which perviously had always been kept in an elaborate braid to keep it from tangling for being pulled or broken, had been released, polished, and dressed. She was being chosen, she had been told, for a very important task.

As the desert was being shrouded in twilight, Durriyah heard the voices of the humans outside pick up. Her ears swiveled forward, suddenly at attention. Something was happening! Her heart skipped a beat, having been begging for something to break the endless scene of infinite sand dunes. She strained to see out the window of her cart.

"Stay back," snapped her father, before the human that was riding him pulled her away and out of sight.

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon when Kasim took to the skies. The sands were still hot from the day's sun, and warm currents were easy to catch. If he was lucky, the eyes of the guards of the cart would take some time to adjust to the fading light. It was at this time of day, Kasim had an advantage.

With a loud whinny, Kasim announced himself high above the figures below, spreading his wings wide. If he were lucky, he could use that fear and prejudice slung against him to intimidate them. The signature demonic outline of his wings had more than once allowed him to make off with vaulables without ever having to enter a skirmish.

The men and soquili alike looked up and began to shout to one another. He could smell the tinge of fear as they scrambled, some shouting demon! or Jinn! and turning to flee. Others, gripped weapons and gathered around the cart - inside of which must have been whatever valuables they were transporting. However, they had not been expecting an attack from above.

To add to the intimidation and show, Kasim dropped a few of the pots he had secured to his sash onto the ground. They split open, and the chemicals mixed, causing fire and smoke.

From inside the caravan, Durriyah heard the shouts and screams, and suddenly acrid smoke filled her nose.

For a time, there was shouting, and then, a banging at the door to her cart.

Two. Three. Four, and then... the latch broke open and standing outside was a dark stallion, billowing scarves, a blade catching the light of the fires outside. Spread behind him were two large wings.

However, his bright eyes that shone in the light opened wide.

This... Kasim had not expected. Inside the caravan protected by guards was no treasure of gems or spices... but a shimmering mare. Her body was the purest white, and a long, elegant horn as golden as the jewelry she was adorned with. That jewelry was alone probably worth enough to feed him for months. He swallowed. And for once, he hesitated.


Durriyah whinnied nervously as the commotion outside raged on. She paced on her hooves, not having hardly any room to move. When the banging on the door to her wagon started, her heart jumped into her throat. She was frightened, sure... but her whole body tingled with excitement. The door burst open, a cloud of acrid smoke billowing in, making her shake her head and blink her eyes. Finally a dark figure materialized, his cloak billowing out behind him, large black wings framing his figure.

The young mare felt the breath leave her lungs as she stared, her large ice blue eyes shining in the dim light; her face slightly obscured by a thin veil of silk. She took a hesitant step back, her body bumping the back of the cart, causing another chime-like tinkle of her adornments.

There was a weighty pause as Kasim realized the situation he had stumbled upon. The treasure, the precious cargo that these guards were protecting was her. It was heading towards the capital city, the heart of the country.

The mare's glittering gold jewelry were a treasure alone, though he could not afford the time to remove them now. And beyond that, she would probably be worth ten times that in a ransom. Kasim's lips tightened and he glanced behind him. He did not know how long his window of opportunity would last; he would have to move quickly.

"Come. We move now. If you value your life you will do as I say." He ordered the slight mare.


Durriyah's mouth gaped; opening to say something, but having the words die in her throat. She couldn't fight - she wouldn't know the slightest idea what to do, and he would easily overpower her. She could not flee and risk damaging her golden hooves, or breaking her pristine hair; even if she felt she had the power to outrun him anyway. He had wings like some kind of demon, allowing him to be unhindered by the desert sands.

And perhaps there was something more... a dark curiosity that he was tapping in to. Her body seemed to react on her own without her fully willing it to; following the bandit out of the wagon, keeping close to his side.

Good, Kasim thought to himself with no small measure of relief. She was coming with him without a struggle. He did not want to have to threaten or hurt this fragile desert flower if he did not need to. It would... diminish her value, he justified to himself.

He pointed at her with his long horn, and quickly motioned out of the cart with a swipe.

The air was hot, choked with smoke and stirred up sand. Spots of blazing oil dashed the ground around them, and there were distant whinnies and screams and shouts as the men of the caravan were attempting to regain control and composure from the attack.

Kasim hurried the shining mare along. he knew a hide-away not very far from there. A small cave in the rock on the other side of the dunes that looked like nothing more than a shadow on the dunes from afar. The fires would not last long, they had to move.

"Come, this way!" Kasim goaded her from behind, wanting to watch her as they traveled so that she did not escape.



Durriyah's eyes darted around, trotting to keep up with her captor's instructions. Father...?. She dared not speak out, but this did not mean she wished him harm. She scanned the scene the best she could, but took seeing no fallen bodies as a good sign.

She hesitated when he ordered her into the cave, her metallic hooves shifting uncomfortably as she tried to peer into the cramped space. It was dank, dirty. Her fun already felt itchy and full of sand, and the ends of her hair were fraying and soiling in a very distressing manner. She looked back to the bandit, her eyes pleading.

As they dashed in the direction that Kasim had indicated, the unwrapped tip of his tail brushed the ground behind them, obscuring their hoofprints in the sand. There was a function to the wrappings around most of his tail, and the length he kept it.

Finally, they were in the clear and Kasim breathed a sigh of relief, his muscles still warm and heart still racing from the excitement of raid and the thrill of success. He gave his wings a great flap and tossed his mane, sending his clothing rustling and shaking much of the sand from his body. Finally, he gave his tail a flick and regarded the pearly mare.

He stepped forward boldly, looking her over with his eyes. Here in the caves, they were far from the fires on the ground of the caravan, and had the sun been able to find this crevice in the sandy rock even during the day, it certainly could not now. His pale eyes cast over her body, taking in the perfect proportions, the gleaming white fur that looked as if it has never gone more than a day without meticulous grooming. Her body almost glowed in the darkness of the cave and she seemed almost unreal - like a veil drifting along the winds. Kasim had never seen a mare so ... perfect.

He swallowed, ducking his head to his side and pulling the scimitar from the draping belt over his flanks. He eyed her, and for a short time, it looked as if he might use that blade on the mare. But then, he turned, clanging the blade against the wall. it seemed nonsensical at first, until a spark from the blade fell upon a small dish of oil beneath it and a small fire illuminated the room.

This was obviously his hideout. In the corners of the room were sacks of wheat, pouches, spilled coins and a few bits of jewelry. Straw was scattered against the far wall, and a few piles of blankets.

It was miles from the pampered existance that Durriyah was used to. It was dirty, sandy, and the things were old, ragged, and there was a slight odor in the cave - an odd blend of mildew and must with a hint of the exotic spices that had been stored here.



Durriyah was used to being stared out. Rather it be by curious humans, jealous mares, or interested stallions, she didn't go many places without being noticed. She held her head high as he regarded her, tho... for the first time in her young life she felt like his eyes were piercing her, looking deeper into her than most of the glazed-eyed stares she was used to. His eyes were so intense, illuminating his dark face... her heavy tail twitched, sweeping the floor as it piled around her hooves.

She made the first sound since their meeting when he flailed the scimitar at her. It wasn't a scream, but just a quick yelp of surprise. She took a few steps back, shaking her head. As the oil caught fire, her gold flashed brilliantly in the flickering light as she heaved her body in a sigh of relief. She took a few hesitant steps in, giving him a quizzical look. Certainly this isn't where he expected her to stay...was it?

Once more, Kasim's attention returned to the mare. ANd now that a warm glow was cast across his cave-home, he could see her all the better. She was no longer cast in the shadows of a dim stall, or moving quickly. He could truly take in the equisite beauty. It was as if she were carved from a piece of alabaster or ivory. She seemed to pristine to be alive. Kasim doubted she had ever had to do a hard day's work in her life.

Kasim began to doubt. He had not shown this personal hideaway to others - he had not trusted them. But this was no piece of treasure, this was a living, breathing mare. And now she knew the location of his hideout. An ear flicked back.

He chewed on a lip, thinking. She was nervous, and looked out of place in his home. "Where were they taking you?" He asked bluntly, feeling strange speaking to her. He had never done something like this before - kidnapping. He didn't want to ask her name - he was merely planning on selling her back for a reward - she was an object of value. That... that was all.



"I don't know exactly." Her voice was as crystal and musical as the chime-like chorus of her adornments. "To the palace, for something very important." She gave a definitive nod, parroting back only exactly what she had been told as well. Everyone seemed to think her travelling to the capitol city was a major call for pomp and circumstance; and everyone Soquili and human alike seemed peaked with excitement - except her mother and father. Mother forced a smile when she left, and kept showing her with compliments; how proud she was, how happy she was... but the pain her eyes had not gone unnoticed by the young mare. Her mother was not going with her for her visit, so she tried to ask her Father what all the fuss was about.

Her father was a strong and handsome warrior - coming from an ancient line of proud desert-striders. He once showed Durriyah a think book that the humans kept that had the names of his father, his father's father, and so on for hundreds of years. Of course Durriyah couldn't read the human scrawling, but she took her father for his word. He was a stoic stallion, not showing much emotion ever, even during all the fuss of her visit to the palace. When she asked him why Mother seemed so upset, he simply told her that she had been chosen for something important, and she should know her mother was very proud of her.


Kasim frowned to himself. She didn't even know why she was going there? He huffed to himself. "Well, you were being transported as if you were some grand treasure." Kasim commented wryly.

"Shaded in that cart as if the sun would melt you or the wind blow you away."

He looked over the layers of gold jewelry. "You know, you are wearing enough gold to feed a family for years." He said disdainfully. "Where did you come across such prizes?"

He stepped closer to her, still inspecting her carefully. "I am sure that there are those that would pay handsomely to get you back."


The proud mare puffed her chest out, "Well I am!" she insisted, lightly stamping her front golden hoof on the straw-covered floor of stone. At her comment about her jewelry she seemed to pause, blinking her eyes and tilting her head before looking down at herself, watching the jewelry glint in the light. "I wouldn't know..." she admitted, "My food is always brought to me."

She narrowed her eyes at his last comment. "That's not fair!"

Kasim snorted derisively. "Brought to you." He echoed with disdain. "Well aren't you the lucky one. I bet that you have never had to pull a cart or work for your food either." He flicked an ear back, looking over the meager supplies that he had managed to collect. The stallion's coat was rough, flecked with sweat and sand, and crossed with scars. But in places under the folds of his clothing, she might be able ot make out ribs stretching his sides.

"Not fair?" He loosed a whinnying laugh. "Life is not fair, my shining one. Though I suppose you have been sheltered from this cruel wisdom."

He paced back and forth a few paces by the entrance, the gears in his head turning. He would have to get a message to those that would pay money for her return.

"No..." she said, feeling a bit ashamed and not knowing exactly why. She was never expected to, or asked to. She looked over at him and frowned, her eyes scanning over the lean establishment.

"Do you need food? I can ask Father if he can give you some, too."

Kasim's ears flicked back irately. "I will not beg for food or accept pittiances from the likes of him. He would likely soon as trample me as look at me. The dark stallion sneered.

"Besides. I have plenty to eat here." He responded defensively.

"You will stay here for a few days." He declared. "I will see to it that arrangements are made to negotiate your ... safe return."


"Oh..." Durriyah's ears dropped down as she cowed back a bit.

She gave the room another skeptical look when he said that there was plenty of food; and that she would have to stay there for a few days. She wanted to protest, but stopped herself, suddenly seeming to realize how insensitive that might sound.

She walked around, sniffing about the straw, finally finding the remnants of a rug crumpled in the corner. She pawed it out onto the ground before daintily settling down onto it, tucking her legs under her.


There were a few older bags that sat sadly in the corner that might contain grains or straw. But it was certainly nothing like Durriyah was accustomed to.

The rug as well, was battered, and itchy underneath her.

"Make yourself comfortable." He spoke softly to her; it was difficult to determine if it was sarcastic or not. "I have business to deal with."

He did not believe she would leave. She was naieve, and certianly did not know her way around the desert. "I would advise you stay here. Those lost in the desert soon find themselves without water... lost. The days are burning hot with the dust stinging your eyes. The nights are bitterly cold and can steal the warmpth from your body. Here. I have water. I have food. And shelter from the elements."

And with that, he strode out, obscuring the entrance, and went to make arrangements.
 

[Sabin Duvert]

The OTHER Brother
RP with Ethan and Cricket and Diogenes

RP located HERE

Original RP Link: Here

Sabin Duvert

Despite the countless days that Ethan had been traveling since he left his home in the grassy valley, Ethan still managed to greet each new day of their journey with optimism and enthusiasm. Each day held new promises, new hope. And despite the wide breadth of land they had traveled and the many new faces that they encountered - many of whom regarded him with mistrust - they still had yet to find anyone who had even heard of the stallion by the name of Dyson Graves. The world was a much bigger place than Ethan could ever have imagined, and every day seemed to present at least one new wonder. But hellish scorched earth or flower covered meadow - it was all a part of the grand adventure. And Ethan refused to get discouraged. Because he knew, deep down to the bone, that he WOULD eventually find his father. It was fate... or something like that at least.

And the search, the adventure, it helped distract the young half-kalona from the possibilities of just what his father might be like. He had seen the reactions of other soquili to his kalona traits - traits that he knew must come from his father. He knew that his mother refused to speak about him. But still... Ethan desperately hoped that meeting his father, finding out that he wasn't as bad as the stories could prove - to himself if nothing else - that he didn't have such negative influence in his blood.

So today was little different than most other mornings of their journey. It had been only two days since they had crossed the dead scar of land, and Ethan saw that dangerous crossing as a veritable trial by fire. Surely, something good, some reward had to come from this crossing. Already he had encountered strange, new creatures. The ocean reminded him of his mother's stories of her passage to this land. The thick forests leading up to the mountains in the distance struck a chord in his chest. That's where they would go next.

So with the salty sea air still flavoring the air, he and Cricket headed north along the coast and into the woods.

Ethan grinned widely over to Cricket as they passed out of the sunny fields inland from the beaches and into the darker, cooler woods. The scent of salty sea air mingled with the dank, earthy smell of the woods. Rustling noises heralded their arrival as hidden creatures scampered away from the two larger soquili. The wood were thick, dark, and as they traveled further into the trees, the air got cooler, and the shadows grew deeper. A presence, like the feeling of being watched, settled on the pair.

Ethan cleared his throat, trying to shake the eerie feeling. "This is diff'rent." He murmured, trying to add a positive spin.

Sosiqui

Cricket walked alongside Ethan, trying to be brave - after all, they'd come through that terrible place where the land spat and shook, and traveled a very long way besides, and she'd been okay the entire time... well, except the night when Ethan had...

She shook her head a little, then a little more, as if she was shaking off a fly. Just for cover.

But it had been good otherwise, and safe, and this forest was pretty even if it was dark and thick and-

Cricket's ears began to tilt back, flatter and flatter, the further they went into the cool shadow of the forest. "Ethan... " She felt a little like Maharet, jumping at shadows, but this was... this was different.

Let's go back. Let's go back to the ocean and the meadow and I want to stick my head in the river and talk to a kelpie and... and...

If you're afraid, he might leave you~

...

"Y-yeah. Different," Cricket managed, trying not to startle at every noise.

Kamiki

Not too far away, lurking in the shadowy depths of the forest, Diogenes' ears flicked at the sound of pleasant chatting in the distance. The large stallion snorted and shook his head, shaking a few fall leaves from his heavy mop of curls. His serpentine tail twitched as he considered what to do... his antisocial nature didn't normally make him inclined to greet people, but a shiver of boredom motivated him to at least inquire what these trespassers were doing coming so close to his herd's land.

He slowly made his way in the directions were the voices were coming from, his mouth in a tight frown and cloven hooves hitting heavy on the ground, making no attempt at stealth.

Sabin Duvert

It didn't take long for Ethan to remember why he generally didn't like trekking through thick woods. Between the thorny brambles that would catch at his legs and Cricket's tail, to the low-hanging branches that he would periodically konk against his horns or try to tangle him up. But beyond that, these wood seemed somehow darker, spookier than ones they had traveled through in the past, and there certainly were a lot of shadows to jump at. Although Ethan was likewise reluctant to give word to his apprehensions. But he certainly didn't mind the fact that Cricket seemed to be drawing closer to him even as her eyes darted after the noises and rustling in the underbrush.

There were old smells here now, smells of rot. Any remnant smells from the ocean had taken on a more sickly odor - like old tide pools or brown-water brackish bays. And then, the sound of something much bigger than perhaps a squirrel or a fox. Heavy footsteps cleaving through the dry, fallen leaves and to the earth below.

At this Ethan stopped, his own ears flicking back in apprehension before looking to Cricket. "Did you hear that?" He instinctively whispered. It was probably nothing to worry about. After all, they were looking for others to talk to. But something about the chill in the air and way the trees seemed to grasp at them as they had traveled had put Ethan more on edge.

Sosiqui

"H-hear what?" Cricket scoffed, trying to be brave - but the words shook at the end, betraying her nerves. In truth, the mare had heard not only the footstep-sounds, but every creak, crack, or rustle of leaves in range. She felt like she might break apart any moment, like the sounds around her were actually striking her skin. She twitched imperceptibly at even the slightest noise.

Not.... scared...

Kamiki

Diogenes snorted when he saw the two figures in the distance, their forms merely vague shapes through the mist and the trees. They were coming dangerously close to his herd's domain, and in thus ran the risk of running into something truly horrifying. He shook his head and twitched his long, fleshy tail. He wasn't the most horrifying thing in this forest... he knew that. But he also knew his appearance was off-putting enough that, while not making most flee in terror, at least gave them pause. He let them pass, purposefully holding his breath as they came relatively close to him as he watched in silence. Once they had several paces in front of him he began to follow. He did not do anything to draw attention to himself, but nor did he hide his presence, following them a few yards behind; his hoofprints landing heavily in the ground in step with theirs, until they dared to turn around.

Sabin Duvert

For a moment, Ethan began to doubt what he had heard. It had grown silent, and Cricket at least implied she hadn't heard (which Ethan really wanted to believe despite the tremulous shake to her words). But then, a thud, and another - from behind them. All of Ethan's hairs stood at attention. All of his bravado began to melt away and give way to a very small feeling. He was hundreds of miles from home and mother. He was in the middle of a spooky forest that the spirits only knew what lurked in the deep shadows. He wasn't even a very big stallion.

Every time they took a step there was a thud behind them as, Ethan realized with a chill, there was definitely something behind them, and it was matching them step for step. With a shaking breath attempting to draw confidence from the air into his lungs, Ethan stopped, pausing a moment, before turning his head to look behind.

Sosiqui

Cricket's reaction, on the other hand, was very different...

something

behind us-

The mare stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on a point in the distance, as if a two-legger had put blinders on her. Her movements slowed, became almost mechanical as real fear gripped her, but she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, trembling now completely obvious in every limb.

not... scared...

Kamiki

In the dim light, it took a moment for Diogenes to seem to materialize in the shadows, his large form moving in pace with their motions. He snorted a sort of approval with Ethan's head turned back to see him, letting a dark lopsided smile spread on his face. He wasn't terrifying looking.. at least not compared to most of the inhabitants of his shadowy herd, but he knew his appearance was strange enough to be off-putting to most Soquili. He was thickly muscled, with razor-sharp cloven hooves, a twisting, hairless tail, and two long, spiraling horns that reflected back the night so perfectly they were barely noticeable until a patch of moonlight caused them to flash brilliantly in the dim light.

He didn't speak just yet, instead he paused his movements and narrowed his eyes at them, his body language indicating he was looking for some kind of explanation. The yellow orbs probed over Ethan, his smile fading as he examined the horns on the young stallion. From afar, Diogenes has thought the small stallion might have been a timid cerynei, but no..he was just young and small despite his obvious kalona heritage. He frowned some more... he was small as a young stallion himself at one point in time.

He tossed his thick mane of curls and let his eyes settled on the still-moving sway of his companion's backside as she marched on.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan squinted as the figure emerged from the deep shadows of the forest. But from the moment that the soft, diluted light of the thick woods illuminated the thick figure just enough for Ethan's eyes to see, his jaw fell open. Long spirialing horns crested the broad head. A hairless tail swished behind him. Two characteristics that Ethan had never seen on another soquili apart from himself. Instead of the gripping fear that perhaps he should feel, he was filled with hope and wonder.

He tried to slow his racing heart. This WAS the first he'd seen another that looked remotely like him. But still, the same shape of the horns, the same tail. Even though his fur was a dark, dappled blue and he dwarfed the small stallion, the resemblance was uncanny. Could... he be a relative? His father even?

The other stallion was silent, but there was a strange smile on his face. Just what had brought it there, Ethan couldn't divine, but his almost ever-present optimism decided that it was a good sign.

But for as often as Ethan had visualed a meeting such as this, finding precisely what to say seemed almost as difficult a task as having found one such as he.

So, with an earnest smile and tone in his voice, Ethan turned around to fully face the stallion. "H.. hullo." He questioned more than stated. His mind bubbled with questions, who he was, if he knew or was Dyson Graves, if it was true that he was Kalona, if there were more like him...

But... with self-restraint that bordered on a feat of will for Ethan, he began simply with, "I've... been looking for someone like you, I think. My name is Ethan."

Sosiqui

Cricket heard Ethan turn, heard him begin to speak - and that broke the grip of fear, allowing her to at last turn herself and face whatever was behind them.

...

"Oh," Cricket blurted, after a long moment during which Ethan finished speaking, "you look like... kinda...!" She glanced back and forth between the two stallions, bemused. Despite the highly imposing air of the strange stallion, the odd similarity between the two also helped Cricket to relax, and though her tail kept swishing nervously back and forth she summoned up a shaky smile for the newcomer.

"I'm Cricket..." She sidled over to Ethan, unsure of what to do or say.

Kamiki

The creepy smirk fell dramatically off his face, his brows knitting in a knot of confusion. He snorted and flicked his tail, causing a ruffle of the leaves behind him. Why would anyone be looking for him.

His flicked his gaze between Ethan and the mare, his ears pressed against his skull.

“I do not know you,” he finally rumbled out. “You should leave before you run into something truly terrifying.” His imposing demeanor seemed shaken by the unexpectedness, his eyes continuing to gave over Ethan’s strangely familiar features.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan kept that shoulder reassuringly pressed against Cricket as they took in the eerie, and yet encouragingly familiar look of the new arrival. He flashed a brief smile to C4ricket. There was hope in his eyes, but more than a little bit of anxiety as well.

His ears flicked back at the blue stallion's pronouncement of wicked things that might lurk in these woods, but shook his head resolutely. He wouldn't be scared off when he felt he was THIS close! "I... I know you don't know me." He protested, "But... I mean... maybe you might, kinda." He drew a steadying breath. "Is the name Dyson Graves familiar to ya?"

Please, Ethan thought to himself, hoping that the desperation wasn't evident in his voice.

Sosiqui

Cricket practically held her breath, waiting. This might be it, this might be... the end of the road?

That thought, more than the imposing look of the strange stallion before her, made her stomach twist. But I'm not ready for it to be over, she thought, and pressed ever so slightly closer to Ethan as she waited for the stranger's answer... unsure what she wanted that answer to be.

Kamiki

The imposing stallion's eyes narrowed into severe slits, his mouth creasing into a disturbed frown. "What do you know of Dyson Graves," he nearly bellowed, stamping a malformed foot into the soft ground of the forest floor. He tossed his mane, his thick curled flaying out behind him as he snorted, the possibilities starting to form in his head... and not exactly liking the outcome of any of them. He began to pace, in a circular motion around the pair of horses puffing out his chest and sneering.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan's ears plastered backwards as the stallion - who it was now very obvious to him just how big he was, bared his teeth and virtually roared at him. Swallowing, he found himself pressing against Cricket even more, trying to interpose himself between the two of them.

What had he said? The name seemed to strike deep and hit a nerve - for better or for worse. He had heard of him! He had to have... but the name seemed to have flipped a switch in the stallion, and he could feel the aggression.

"That.... that's what I'm tryin' to find out." Ethan answered defensively. "I... I think he's muh Father." He swallowed, muscles tense and kept his eyes on the blue stallion.

Sosiqui

I think he knows something- The words went utterly unspoken as Cricket quailed, pressing against Ethan just as eagerly even as she tried to put on a brave face. And yet, at the same time, there was an odd thrill mixed into her own fear - he's... protecting me...?

Yet that strange blink of pleasure was eclipsed after only a moment. Maybe this was Dyson Graves... and if that was true, then... Maybe he really is Kalona after all, maybe Tkoli was right... Cricket's ears tipped back even further, and she held her breath, waiting for the other stallion's answer.

Kamiki

The stallion's lip curled into a scowl as he seemed to inspect Ethan derisively. He was a smaller than him, colored in a friendly beige and freckled. His eyes were bright. his features less delicate than his own, but heavier than those of, say, his sisters. Like a pony's. He snorted. One of his sister's was small and delicate - but she was a conniving and manipulative mare - something an astute Soquili could tell by looking into her eyes. His other sister was distant, cold... a strong silent girl.

But this... this eager and clueless colt... could he really? Certainly his father would have better discretion than to just spread his seed on any willing fwo-legger lovin' cart pony that looked his way.

Sure, he had horns like him, and a cleft hoof, and a tail... but his carriage and his demeanor was all wrong.

"Your father? I would be surprised..."

But as his eyes lingered on Ethan's long, curved horns, the doubt was obvious on his face.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan's tail flicked indignantly. "You know him, don'tcha?" He swallowed, glancing at the scowl on the brutish stallion's face and noting Cricket's subtle quiver that he could feel as she pressed against him.

He planted his hooves solidly in the ground and kept his stance, his tail subconsciously wrapping possessively around one of Cricket's hindlegs.

He met the patronizing look of the larger stallion, steeling his jaw and straightening, trying to make himself look and feel bigger. "Why is that so surprisin?" And then, Ethan made himself ask directly. "Are you him?"

Kamiki

Diogenes broke his gaze with a snort, pacing around and tossing his mane. "No," he said dismissively. His jaw clenched as he made another glance at Ethan over his shoulder, the gears in his head turning...and a strange, heavy feeling in his stomach. "Dyson Graves is a magnificent, powerful, and frightening kalona." Well, that what his mother had told him at least. "He is my father." His shoulders flexed, as if billowing wings that weren't there...causing the long, curved blades on his back to sway in the moonlight.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan felt as if he had just been whacked with a heavy club with one blow after another. The first, a whallop to the stomach as every anxiety he had been carrying with him on this quest was confirmed. Dyson graves, the features that "marred" Ethan's features were from nothing else but a real Kalona. It was just as the others had said - Tkoli and Maharet were right. A frightening, powerful Kalona. Not an angeni, not some other sort of soquili had given Ethan his features. The horns, the tail... they WERE traits of the demons. He looked back to Cricket, ears lowered, almost apologetically.

But then, the second blow of the azure stallion's words came to his knees, nearly making them buckle. His father as well...? Ethan blinked, looking upon him with new eyes. So the familiar traits were far more than just characteritics of that race... the twisted horns, the hairless tail... the sharp spurs and spikes... this was... his brother?

Ethan swallowed, feeling a tumultous mixture of bile and wonder tumbling through his stomach.

While the stallion before him was not the one he had sought... he was very, VERY close. "I... never knew I had a brother." Ethan breathed hopefully. Maybe he was more like him than he feared. Maybe this gruff posturing was a way he had dealt with the fear of others? "What is your name? Is Dyson close by? Do you live with him?"

Sosiqui

Kalona...

Well. That was that. After everything they'd done, every exploration...

But it doesn't matter, does it? He's still Ethan... still my best friend... and he's as much not-Kalona as Kalona...

She leaned on him, just a little, so he'd know she wasn't going to run away just because his father's identity had been confirmed... and because the other stallion was starting to worry her even more. Ethan was kind, but if what the other stallion said was true, that kindness couldn't have come from the father they shared. Frightening and powerful...

I'm not going to run away!

Kamiki

“Do not call me brother,” the stallion bellowed defensively. “I do not know you!” He snorted and shook his head, obviously trying to cool his temper. There were many strange and unfamiliar feelings boiling up inside him. While he had never thought his father had any sort of loyalty to his mother, nor had he fooled himself in believing that he had probably not sired other foals by different mares: having one of them here, in front of him, speaking to him as if he were family...

It just didn’t feel right.

“My name is Diogenes,” he finally said, muffled through clenched jaw muscles. “Dyson is not here.” He snorted again, rolling his eyes at his obvious ignorance. “Dyson is not concerned with the goings-ons of his conquests.”

Sabin Duvert

He couldn't help but fall back a few paces as the Kalona bellowed at him. He was getting angry. What had he done? Nothing but try to connect with him. He was his brother! All this time...

Ethan swallowed. He shouldn't be frightened. They were family! He... couldn't be as bad as he seemed. He just couldn't. Ethan refused to believe that Kalonas were as bad as other soquili seemed to think they were. Maybe they were just nervous about the horns and spikes... Maybe some of them were defensive about the fear that they encountered.

"Diogenes." Ethan repeated, risking a small smile. "And... I may not know ye... but... mebbe we could change that?"

That smile, however, was quickly wiped from his face at the derisive comment that this Diogenes made. "Conquests?" He frowned. He didn't like the implications. "Mah Mum... she's a smart, strong mare." But... she never spoke about Dyson. Something had to have gone wrong - even if it was nothing more than his disappearence after the fact.

Kamiki

Diogenes looked distinctly uncomfortable with the situation, and had no qualms about taking it out on Ethan. A twisted smile played over his face as he turned towards Ethan again, stepping close enough their muzzles nearly were touching. "Not smart enough to know not to cross a great kalona," he said lowly, "Or strong enough to ... well..." his eyes passed over Ethan , before locking eyes with him again, "Well you know. You're here, aren't you?"

Sabin Duvert

Ethan swallowed, but held his ground, trying to keep his muscles from quivering. Especially close up, it was obvious how much bigger than he Diogenes was. His muscles were thicker, heavier. And Ethan had to look up to meet his eyes.

"I ain't tryin' to cross no one." Ethan responded. "And ... 'parently I'm as much Kalona as you are?" The words felt heavy in his mouth. He wasn't thinking through his responses. What was he trying to do? Befriend or incite the already surly stallion?

Sosiqui

"So - he left you too?" Cricket said, suddenly, her eyes widening at the sudden insight. "You're just like Ethan, aren't you?"

The realization made her relax a little bit - which was potentially foolish, but there was only so much tension she could take!

Kamiki

Diogenes snorted into Ethan's face, letting is sour breath burn his nostrils as he sneered, letting the moonlite illuminate the sharp curved canines in his mouth. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed a loss as to what to say. But thankfully's Cricket's sweet voice broke the momentary lag in conversation and he whipped his head towards. "He didn't leave," he barked, "My mother didn't ask him or expect him to stay."

He looked back over to Ethan with a dark chuckle, regarding the small curly-haired mare. "I am hardly like Ethan at all, little girl," he said lowly, taking a few steps towards her like a predatory cat, letting his large shadow fall across her face. "Perhaps I can show just how different we can be."

Sabin Duvert

Ethan's ears flicked back and he found himself falling back a pace as Diogenes exhaled in his face. Maybe it was just him, but the shadows of the woods seemed to be growing blacker, the temperature colder. It became more an more obvious to Ethan just how far away they were from anything familiar. That here, it was just him and Cricket...

But when Diogenes, his brother advanced on Cricket, that budding fearful feeling began to twist around in his stomach.
"H...hey!" Ethan found his voice again. He didn't like the way Diogenes was looking at her. She was just here because of him. If something happened to her....
He shook his head resolutely. Nothing was going to happen to her.

Sosiqui

Cricket's stomach twisted, but she forced herself to stay put, not moving back an inch even though her instincts were screaming at her to move. "You're bigger? I-"

Her mouth dried up, and she worked her jaw for a second before closing her mouth, her ears tilting all the way back.

Kamiki

Diogenes gave out a dark, rumbling laugh at Cricket's 'observation.' "That I am," he said, coming up to her side and letting his long, snake-like tail curl over the lower part of her back leg. "Run along, brother." he hissed at Ethan, narrowing his eyes and pressing his ears down on his skull threateningly. "I doubt you want to see this."

Sabin Duvert

That cold, twisting, clenching fear that coiled in Ethan's innards suddenly began to warm, to heat to a rolling, boiling anger.

Fear, humility, and even irritation and frustration were all feelings that Ethan was well familiar with. But seeing the dark stallion touching her like that, the barely veiled threat...

Ethan made a quick dash forward, his own ears pressing backwards and his lips pulling back in a snarl.

"You leave her be!" Ethan cried, with no stutter to his words.

Sosiqui

Cricket's skin crawled at the touch of Diogenes' tail - she couldn't help it! She took a step back, trying not to let the brief shiver turn into full-body shaking -

- and stopped, standing stock-still as Ethan flew past her, crying out.

Protecting me-

It gave her courage, and a shiver of something in her heart, something she couldn't name - something she'd think about later. For now, she pulled back, trying to yank herself out of the kalona's grip in the moment of distraction.

Kamiki

As Cricket pulled away and Ethan came charging towards her, Diogenes narrowed his eyes and braced for impact. He took a step forward, dig his hooves into the ground, and met Ethan's charge head-on. Their horns made contact, sending a shockwave down Dio's neck. The larger stallion shimmied his head, intertwining the horse together and then through his all his weight to the side, trying to throw Ethan off his balance and onto the ground.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan's entire body shook as the force of impact traveled from his horns to his hooves in a terrifying crash. Ethan's back hooves scrambled for a stronger hold as Diogenes expertly locked their horns together and Ethan began to realize just how much larger his brother was than he.

But as he caught a glimpse of Cricket, watching with wide-eyes, he found strength in his renewed anger. The hungry look that Diogenes had given her... the way he touched her.

His vision seemed hazy. His thoughts were coming less in words, and more in actions as an anger he had never before known seemed to take his reins. He bellowed, wordless, as he kicked against the ground, trying to push up against Diogenes' tilt to the side, striking at him with the sharper parts of his misshapen, devilish foot.

Sosiqui

Cricket stumbled backwards, pulling free from the fray as stallion met stallion. Her instincts were screaming at her to run, run as fast as you can-

But she couldn't leave.

She could, however, back up; the mare scurried backwards, putting a tree between herself and the stallions, hardly daring to breathe.

Kamiki

Diogenes snorted as Ethan's clawed deformity flayed the flesh where in contacted with his shoulder. He quickly reacted by jerking his head, detangling the horns and took a quick back before rearing up, his lips pulling back in a sneer as he descended upon Ethan from above, hooves coming down in a flurry of quick, sharp hits.

Sabin Duvert

Something had snapped in Ethan. The anger, the fear. All of the months and months and months of fruitless searching for his sire, all of it blended into this burning rage against this dark stallion. The reason he was fighting began to become less important than just fighting. Diogenes became a punching bag for all of this overboiling emotion that Ethan had never really expressed.

He couldn't tell how long he fought. But gradually, the pain began to seep into his mind. Diogenes was bigger, stronger, and more familiar with violence than Ethan. And while his pure instinct-driven anger had landed a few good blows, this was a losing battle. Slowly, his battered consciousness began to return, his body was crying out in pain from the abuse, and his attacks were getting slower and weaker.

He stumbled backwards, breathing ragged, blurring vision clearing. The fear returned - fear of the massive stallion... and fear of his own blinding rage he had only just surfaced from.

Kamiki

Diogenes, on the other hand, was calculating and deliberate the entire fight. He obviously wasn't trying to kill Ethan, for he was much bigger and stronger than the inexperienced stallion and could have delivered a fatal blow with his long spiral horns had he been so inclined. But every blow of Ethan's was returned with a more violent and skilled one from his competitor. Diogenes wasn't unscathed, however. Bright crimson trails of blood stained his blue fur - a glaring reminder of the violence Ethan discovered within himself.

The larger stallion, bleeding and breathing heavily, let a smile break over his face, seeing the horror unveiled on his opponent as he realized what he had done. "You are not much different than me after all," he finally rumbled, looking almost proud of himself. "I'm just much better at it."|

He let his gaze trail back over the cowering mare behind the tree. Technically, he won, and he had every right to claim his prize. But an expression of confliction and doubt crossed his features only briefly before Diogenes gave a quick shake of his head.

"Leave," he said to Ethan, his voice low. "Before the master of these lands finds you - you've certainly made your presence known. And he will not be as merciful as I."

Sabin Duvert

Ethan's whole body shook as he took one step back, then another, then another. It felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him at any point. Now he felt the sledgehammer blows that Diogenes had slugged him with. Now he felt the bleeding gashes that had torn open his hide.

When the stallion just stared menacingly back at him, letting him retreat, he felt a wash of relief. But it was a hollow, pained relief. And Diogenes' words was the last bucket of cold water that drove home the results of this encounter. He winced as if Diogenes had just kicked him again.

He didn't need to be told to leave twice. Defeated, he barely could look at Cricket. What would she think of him now? Didn't this make him just as violent as the stories she had heard? There WERE traces of demon in him. Just like her friend had said.

Tail tucked, he glanced vaguely in her direction, to see if she would still follow him out of these cursed lands.

Sosiqui

Without a sound or a glance back - though the shuddering of her breath and the flecks of foam along the corners of her mouth clearly displayed her distress - Cricket moved after Ethan, unable to really process what had just happened. Her stomach lurched every time she looked at the slick runnels of blood that trickled down his sides.

But she wasn't leaving - at the very least, he was the only even vaguely familiar thing in a world turned upside-down. More would require more thought than she was capable of at the moment.

 

[Sabin Duvert]

A Coming Storm
RP with Firestorm, Balrog, Stormwild, Kumiho, Cerberus, and Thunderbird

Firestorm was brimming with pride as sailed into the herdgrounds, the wind in his wings. Adeptly, he made a large arc barely ten feet above the ground over the heads of grazing herdmembers, many of whom looked up with glares at the hotheaded young stallion as he buzzed overhead.

Finally, he touched down, folding his wings with an overt gesture a few feet away from where Stormwild and Balrog had been standing.

With a prideful grin, he shook out his mane. "Sorry if I interrupted your nap." He started sarcastically. "But I was... you know, out. There's land outside our little herdland hideaway."

Stormwild swiveled her ears forward. "Of course there is," she said, trying not to feed into his sarcasm. She took a sigh, and shook out her own mane a bit. His comment and all its intended implications bit a bit close to home for her: she had been feeing her age recently. She felt heavy and moody... and watching FIrestorm flit around above her head with all his grace and enthusiasm that youth brings made her uncomfortably jealous. When he was a baby, Storm had happily taken the colt under her wing... but as he grew older, more independent, and sassy - her patience with him ran thin. Every glint of the sunlight off his long horn, or stomp of his distinctly stockinged legs struck a chord deep within Stormwild.

"This is still your home," she said to him pointedly. "You should stay for a while this time. You have sisters and herdmates who love your company."


Balrog rustled his wings with a leveled look at Firestorm. The young stallion was testing them, Balrog was well aware of this fact. He tested Balrog's tenuous patience, flaunted his gifts and strength, and seemed to never be satisfied. He never understood just how hard Balrog had fought for this land, how he had collected this group of the strongest soquili. Just how priviledged he truly was to have the best herdgrounds that Balrog had ever seen: Sheltered, protected, and fertile. Balrog would defend it with his life. A part of him almost wished for the opportunity, because it would be a chance to prove his mettle - and the mettle of his carefully chosen herdmembers.

"what is so important, Firestorm?" Balrog rumbled, his mannerisms declaring a warning for his son's deliberate carelessness.



"Pfft." Firestorm responded with an irreverant puff of air in his bangs. "all they do is sit and eat." Firestorm rolled his eyes. "There are wide blue skies, waterfalls... challenge and excitement out there!" His neighed.

"Maybe if they shared my enthusiasm, they'd come with me. But! No. At least I found someone who did." He gave his parents a toothy smile, teasing, taunting, waiting for them to inquire.



"Spring is coming," Stormwild said to her adopted son. "Hopefully there will be foals coming soon, they have greater responsibilities to the herd than gallivanting around." Her ears flicked back at the mention of this elusive 'someone.' There was a flutter of both anticipation, and jealousy, at the prospect of Firestorm taking a mate. She longed for the sound of more foals around her herd... though she had yet to muster the mettle to bring it back up with Balrog. They were on good terms, make no mistake, just Storm was not completely sure where they stood on that aspect of their relationship since he had sired foals with Anemone. He seemed happy with Firestorm - a strong stallion with wings and more...

She snorted with a sigh, this was not the time to get lost in her own meandering thoughts. Please, she found herself silently asking of the Wind itself, say he's bringing home a nice winged mare. She feared the anger and arguing that would ensure from Balrog if not.

"So who is this someone you speak of, Firestorm?"



Firestorm rolled his shoulders. He wasn't going to knock the responsibility of raising foals, especially considering his intentions with Shinoma... but he cared little for the pleasantries of talking with his relatives about more pending relatives. The lovey-dovey relationships of some of the couples. With Shinoma, it was different. It was exciting, electrifying, challenging.

Thinking of her made him grin.

"She's fantastic. Not at all like you guys. She's daring, bold, and fierce!" He spread his wings for emphasis. He darted his eyes around quickly, as if to make sure she wasn't somewhere nearby and listening. She would probably scoff if she heard him praise her. With the two of them, it was a contest, and he didn't want to seem weak to her by lauding her praises.

"She taught me how to hunt, you know!" He sniffed. Sure, he didn't actually like the taste of the meat like she did, but chasing after animals was a thrill. Long before Balrog had shown him how to defend their territory from cougars, he had hunted a rabbit with the filly.

"Her name is Shinoma, and she's not like anyone around here, that's for sure. Her wings are smokey, and shaped like a bat - but she can fly just as well as I can." Firestorm made sure to mention her wings proudly. He knew his father's ideals, and he shared them. He would never lower himself to associating with a weaker soquili, one that could not fly.

Balrog listened, his brow creasing as he mentioned a hunt. Did he mean chasing off predators that might prey on the young foals? But his demeanor relaxed a bit when he mentioned her wings. He let go of the air that he had been subconsciously holding onto.

Smokey bat-wings? This sounded odd to the stallion, but there were soquili that he had welcomed to his herd with strange wings - wings like bugs - but who had proved themselves worthy of the skies and able to maneuver their alpine herdgrounds.

Stormwild listened on next to her mate, her tail flicking behind her . Her brows creased and a frown tugged at her mouth as he continued however. Balrog's sigh of relied only discontented her more - did he not realize what his prince son was speaking of.

"Wait," she finally said, stepping forward. "Hunt? Wings of a bat? Firestorm are you consorting with kalona?" She shook her head, not liking where this conversation was going one bit.


Firestorm scowled at his step-mother's disapproval. She had wings. His father seemed satisfied by that fact. So why did his mother of all soquili - who he had heard had consorted with a ground soquili once before she knew better - the one to look shocked.

"I don't know." Firestorm tried to make the admission of ignorance sound like a retort instead of an admission. "She has wings. And she has more spirit than half the fat, lazy soquili around here! I LIKE her. And she gets me." His tail flicked

Balrog had been happy to hear that his son had enough sense in his head to at least choose a worthy mate, but all of the insults about their herd was driving a nail into his hoof.

"You do not speak about your herd like that. You come from the strongest herd in the lands, and if you cannot see that that is good enough, then you are blind and have not seen enough of the world around you to make such a judgment.

"Firestorm, you can do so much better," Stormwild chided, trying to swallow her anger after the tirade of insults. "You have no business with their bloody kind... hunting? Really, son. That's below you. Maybe... maybe you and Arcana can spend some time together. She needs a nice... uh, stable stallion life yourself. It would be good ... for both of you."


Firestorm flattened his ears with a sneer. "Arcana?" He winced. The little fluttercorn was ... special. Nervous and awkward, and always seemed to have a knack at sayin the wrong thing to everyone.

"You don't even know her!" Firestorm protested. "And Arcana? Geez, Stormwild, what do you take me for? Pushing me towards that charity case?" He didn't care who heard him.

Balrog looked to Stormwild, brow furrowed. "Bloody kind..?" Balrog had encountered little of the other races of soquili other than the ones that had found homes in their herd. He had not heard of the legends of the Kalona.

"Watch your tongue, Firestorm," she said harshly, taking a step towards him. "Every member of this herd should be treated like family, something you have a terrible time understanding. Everything isn't always about you - you have a responsibility to this whole herd. Especially being the son of the Alphas. You should take your position deathly serious - from the words you speak to the mate you choose - it effects all of us."


"You're not my REAL mother, and you can't tell me what to do!" The words flew from Firestorm's mouth like wasps. His eyes burned with indignance. "And you're right - I AM important! I can make my own decisions. I'm not a foal any more! I know what's good for me - and it's Shinoma!" His wings began to spread.

"Don't speak to your mother like that!" Balrog raised his voice to a crashing thunder.

Firestorm just glared. "And you! You think you're so powerful? You're SCARED!" He retorted at Balrog. "You're scared to leave your magical herdgrounds where you might meet some REAL powerful Soquili." He grinned cockily. "I AM strong, Father. Congradulations. And I've got the courage to face that world!"

"I am, too, your mother!" Stormwild bellowed back, stomping her hooves on the ground. "You have no business out there. Your world is the herd! Do you hear me? You will respect - if not me - your father and learn your place! And that's here with your herd and your family and not risking damaging your whole bloodline by dealing with dangerous flesh eaters!"


Firestorm's wings snapped open. "I don't have to take this from either of you!" Firestorm shouted back. "I'll SHOW you that I know what I'm doing!" The words were just tumbling out of his mouth without bothering to check in with his head. Firestorm was furious.

Without even stepping back, his wings began to beat, stirring up a wind in the glade and Firestorm lifted off the ground.

"You'll see!" He shouted down at them as he took off.

"FIRESTORM! You get back here!" Balrog shouted up at his son. "This is your home!"

But Firestorm wasn't listening any more. He was gaining his speed, and flying out towards the waterfall at the edge of their territory.


Stormwild's wings snapped open as well, but she restrained herself from flying after the hot-headed young stallion. She gave a heavy sigh, and shook out her mane. "Let him go," she said calmingly to Balrog, gently touched his back with her outstretched wings. "He'll be back... he just needs to blow off steam."

She was quiet for a few moments "I'm worried about this kalona girl," she said, looking to him.



Balrog, indeed, was about to take to the skies himself to try to force Firestorm to land, but at the touch of his mate, he flattened his ears and rustled his wings, returning them to his sides.

"I hope you are right." Balrog rumbled. "But Firestorm is strong. I may not know much about her, but I'm sure he can handle a mare."

"It isn't a matter of strength," she said, a bit incredulous that he wasn't as upset as she was about this - especially since Balrog was so obsessed with the unity and strength of their herd. "Kalona come from demonic heritages, they are corrupt. They feast on the flesh of animals - I've even heard other Soquili. They come from the underworld."


"Demons?" Balrog asked incredulously, with only a hint of skepticism creeping into his voice. He had never known Stormwild to judge, but there was honest horror and disgust in her words. An ear flicked back indecisively. But he had confidence in his bloodline, in Firestorm's strength, as much as the young, hotheaded stallion aggravated him. And secretly, deep down, a part of Balrog thirsted for the challenge. He had shouted one to the heavens many months ago. Had they heard his call? ... Did he regret it?

"I think I should like to see one of these demons. See if their stories live up to the reality." A smug smile settled on his lips. Balrog may not have been a spring stallion any more, but he was seasoned, experienced, and knew these lands better than any other. Woe be it to any who challenged him or threatened his herd.

***************************************************

The days passed, and there was no word from Firestorm. Balrog seemed to be distracting himself by scouring the Kawani lands for these demonic Kalona he learned of, while Stormwild was left milling about the herdlands, feeling fat and useless. She wished, just for once, that Balrog and herself would see eye-to-eye on... something. She had no doubt in her mind that Firestorm was strong enough to "handle" a kalona mare, but if was the offspring she worried about. Would Firestorm try to bring his new mate in as part of the herd? If not, would he bring the baskets back to the mountain? Would she allow that? Or would the kalona steal off with them? This worried Storm the most. She already had too many sons and daughters (and grandchildren) lost to her... she didn't want to lose any more. She wanted them here... in their herdlands.

Or was Firestorm done with them forever?

She doubted that was the case... but his mother was obviously a flaky mare with no sense of loyalty. Why would Firestorm be any different?

But after nearly a week without Firestorm, Sequoyah and Xandir made their way up the mountain with disturbing news: skinwalker attacks were on the rise.

There was a smudgy black skinwalker that had lurked around the mountain base for a while, but apparently he was spotted several times with a more brightly colored walker wrecking havoc. Thankfully Sequoyah's herd had been expertly defended by Sumi and himself, but the reports of other not-so-lucky Soquili were numerous.

Stormwild nearly made herself sick with worry. She immediately made off - looking for Firestorm and her other lost children. She just had to make sure they were okay... even if she couldn't convince them to come home. Xandir opted to stay with Balrog's herd for the time-being, while Sequoyah went back to his Alpha duties of his own herd at the mountain base.

Stormwild had been gone for many days when the storm hit: A wintery surprise blizzard that hit the high altitudes of the mountain hard.


Balrog had barely returned from one of his increasingly longer scouting missions when the Blizzard was rolling in, effectively grounding him and the rest of the herd. When he learned of Stormwild's departure, anger and frustration boiled inside of him, tinged with a worry that he would not admit to. Between the dangerous predators on the lands, and the blizzard that would likely keep her from the skies, it was a bad situation.

And indeed, even further down into the forest, the heavy snows adeptly penetrated the barren tree boughs. It was as if the land itself was sending a fierce reminder that winter was not over, and that it had at least one more good show of it.

Locating Sequoyah's tribe was not a difficult feat. Their herdlands were stable, situated just down the mountain from the aerial herd. But for all of the white that blanketed the land, there was no telltale flash of red or yellow that might indicate the young stallion that Stormwild searched for.

And as the snows got heavier, so did Stormwild's weight on her feet. Only now did she realize how swollen she had become, and that the roundness of her belly did not indicate a sedentary lifestyle or ample food, but something much more significant...

Even were the blizzard to cease, Stormwild had grown heavy, likely too heavy to take to wing. There were predators out there, and she needed to find baskets, and soon.

And so it was... sometime later Stormwild was hunkered down under a large tree, shielding herself and her baskets from the slowly waning winter winds. She had no idea how she was going to get home with baskets in tow - especially in the snow. But as weak and worried as she was, she nestled around her warm baskets and felt a serene calm wash over her.

But it was to be short-lived. Lurking in the forest not too far away two creatures were following her trail, and the scent of blood in the air...




These were indeed dangerous lands. The stories of two skinwalkers sighted in the region that Stormwild had heard were not the only threats that stalked these frozen woods.

A dark shadow fell over the virgin snow, followed shortly after by a large, pawed foot. Dozens of gleaming red eyes set into dark fur scanned the wastelands,looking for food for himself and the slighter, paler figure that padded quietly by his side.

His mistress.

The hunger that clawed at his belly was a familiar sensation. Freedom was not. And thus, he had easily fallen into the clutching employ of the twisted skinwalker, Kumiho, who now followed behind him as if goading him on with invisible reins.

She, too, was hungry. And if anything, that only made her temper worse.

The kitsune's eyes narrowed as she padded on, a grimace plastered on her face as she followed behind the large, shadowy figure of Cerberus. She did not follow as an act of submission; indeed it was quite the opposite. It allowed to watch his every move, every ear p***k, and every exhale of his hell-hot breath as it fogged in front of him like draconic smoke. She was hungry and uncomfortable, not used to spending so long in her horse form. She preferred the quick, warm, agile, and unassuming form of her fox nature. But now her belly was heavy with foals - forcing her to lumber around in her larger, but more awkward equine shape.

Pregnancy for her was a strange, reeling experience. She felt no maternal warmth for the kicking, heavy bodies inside her; but she did have a vague, intangible feeling of... duty? Perhaps a bit of pride. Some kind of distant satisfaction that the spawn between herself and Cerberus would grow up to be proxies of herself - able to spread her influence behind her mortal capacity.

But on the other hand, the uncomfortable weight, insatiable appetite and raging hormones was maddening. There were times she was barely conscious of her own actions... slipping into the blood-lust of that of her reviled more base skinwalker kin. Every twist of agonizing pain made her so angry at Cerberus for doing this to her she almost ripped his throat out, and she had considered more than one wrenching her unborn children out of her belly herself.

She was teetering on the razor's edge now. She was starving and growing more ill-willed by the second. "Something is close - up ahead," she said lowly to her charge. "I smell blood - I don't care what it is... I want it."



Cerberus didn't turn his head to look back at his mistress as she snarled her demand. He didn't need to. He smelled the blood in the air as well. It was not fresh blood, but whatever had shed it was still nearby. He could sense the heavy horse-smell of a soquili in the frigid air. The snows tended to bring weak, skittish prey. But finding something already injured would be a true boon.

"Of course." Cerberus responded dutifully. He had found it almost too easy to slip back into a subservient manner. When he was roaming these lands purposeless, his mind was in chaos. Everythin seemed to whisper at him, pull him in different directions. The snapping maws on his shoulders barking their hunger, their distrust, and any number of cacaphonous demands or greivances. Kumiho was a single voice to heed. He could just DO.

And of course, the hunger was panging in his belly as well. He could almost taste the horseflesh already.

He drew his wings in tightly to his sides, stepping more quietly and trying to slip his bulk more deftly through the woods so as to not alert whatever morsel lay ahead.

Twenty yards... fourty, sixty... and then, he could make it out - a large dark shape laying on the ground. It was a mare, and a large one at that, with large wings that looked burdoned by the snowfall. But... no... it was more than that. Nestled in around her like the walls of some two-legged fort were baskets. Four of them.


Kumiho stalked up beside him, crouching her head and plastering her ears against the back of her head. Her nostrils flared and her mouth began to salivate at the anticipation of the kill. But as the scene solidified, something moved deep within her... a lurch in her belly and the sudden realization of the opportunity that lay before her. "Wait," she hissed, reaching out and latching to Cerberus's hindquarters with her paw, "The baskets. I need them..." There was a rumble through her stomach at the thought of what a nutritious honeypot they would be. A long, toothy grin spread happily across her pale face. "We need them... by any means possible - but they must stay in tact..."


Cerberus rumbled a growl of assent, not caring if the mare heard him. Exhausted from what looked like a recent birthing, this should prove a simple task. Immediately, he understood what the skinwalker wanted. She would need baskets of her own for the foals that she would be birthing soon... the tiny foals already in these baskets would help theirs grow stronger...

Cerberus didn't think about the consequences or the morality behind what he was about to do. It was a job. It was for his mistress, and for his children. His ears lay back against his furry neck, and he stalked forward with a sickening growl in his throat.

********************************************

By the time the blizzard had abated enough for Balrog to take to wing, worry was already making him nauseous. Stormwild had been gone far too long, and while the snows had likely kept her grounded wherever she was, he did not like the idea that she had been gone for so long with apparently dangerous creatures on the prowl. He did trust in her strength, but without the advantage of flight, and by herself, anything could have happened.

Balrog spent days searching for his mate. But the lands were vast, and every dark shadow on the ground, or inlet in the rock could hide the mare that he found himself desperately searching for.

Finally, finally, his eagle-eyes spotted a very familiar dark shape with tinges of lavender and purple, nestled down in a small grove in the woods. But it felt as if his stomach would lurch out of his throat when he saw a distinct reddish color staining the snow around her.

He drew his wings in closer and made a quick descent to the small clearing, heart pounding in his chest.

Closer he came, and more horrifying began to unfold. The snow in the clearing was scattered - evidence of a long and brutal fight. Mud and blood was mixed heavily throughout, turning the whole clearing into a brownish battlefield. Strangely, among the remnants of the skirmish were several shreds of wicker and feathers... Stormwild herself lay off to the side, her legs tucked under her and her wings splayed, limp and lifeless, by her side. Her mane and tail were soaked through, a nasty, unsavory color like the ground. Her eyes were closed... but, ever so slightly, her torso rose and fell with shallow breath.


"Stormwild! Stormwild!" Balrog called, surprised to hear the frantic timbre of his voice as he prodded her gently with his nose.

The destruction in the clearing told a story that chilled him to the core. Why did she leave the herdgrounds without him? Who had done this? And what froze the very blood in his veins was the sign of wicker. She couldn't have been... could she...? But now... there was so much blood...

"Storm!" He cried, carefully picking up one of her wings to try to rouse her.



She stirred ever so slightly at his prodding, turning her head in an attempt to move the hair from covering her eyes. A tremble later and she had one of her front hooves moved out from under her, trying to gain footing. She didn't say anything, her eyes blinking slowly under a veil of hair plastered to her face by blood. As Balrog lifted one of her limp wings from the puddle of mud-soaked snow, a surprising sight revealed itself. Half-buried, completely concealed by her wing, a sing basket was wedged into the war-torn ground. It was relatively in tact, though frayed in several points, with wicker steams flayed in various directions and covered in splatters of blood.


She moved. Relief flooded over Balrog to see that she was indeed still alove, but for how long? How badly was she injured? "Storm.." He murmured more quietly. "What... who... how...?"
But as she lifted her wing the rest of the way, he spied the basket, and his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed, looking about. The blood on the snow had frozen, this could not have been that fresh. Pawprints and hoofprints scraped and scuffled the ground all over the clearing. A shudder traveled down his body as a memory he had tried for so long to suppress flitted through his mind of another scene that was all too familiar to this one.

But she was alive. There was still hope. He could mourn the loss of what must have been other baskets later.

He sniffed the air, and while the scent of blood was heavy in the clearing, it was old. He coudln't smell any predators.

"I need to get help." He rumbled. A shaman, one of the horned members of their herd, anyone.

"Don't leave," she managed to say weakly, managing to maneuver her other hoof from underneath the weight of her body. She rolled and tried to distribute her weight evenly so she could attempt to get up. Her voice and body were shaky, but she attempted to get onto all fours regardless. Her wings still hung limp by her sides, dragging in the mud and she slowly go to her feet, leaning hard against Balrog, her head hung low and seemed unable to look him in his eyes.

Balrog winced as she summoned the effort to get to her feet, trying to help support her as she shifted her weight. He could see bruising, bits of flesh and fur turn away where it looked like claws or teeth had raked her. A part of him felt that he should be angry with her - for leaving without telling him. Going out where it was dangerous alone and.... with foals...? Had ... she really been pregnant? Balrog couldn't believe that he hadn't have noticed. Had he really been that distracted? Or had this been another situation of Stormwild's charity? In the past, she had taken responsibility for stray baskets - even those of weaker races.

But, seeing her like this. The anger fizzled and died. In his youth, perhaps, it would have been able to break past that sensation of pity and worry. But now, Stormwild's heath was forefront in his mind.

He swallowed, feeling drawn. He was no healer. He was a warrior. But he couldn't leave her side - not when she asked him like that to stay.

So he did his best to lift or support as she got to her feet. "Do... you think you can walk?" He winced.
His eyes went to the basket. He wouldn't ignore the elephant in the room. "What... happened...?" He tried to meet her eyes.


"In a minute," she breathed out, trying to steady herself on her own four hooves... slowly trying to take her lean off of Balrog and stand steady on her own. It took her a while, but she finally managed to maintain her own weight, though her balance looked shaky. "They're all gone," she said with a heavy and remorseful voice, eyes looking out over the battleground that lay before her. A few feathers blew in the winter wind, dancing on the breeze before whisking away into the forest. Storm lowered her head even more in sorrow, tucking her wings to her side. She either didn't see the half-mud covered basket, or didn't seem to know it was there. She tried to make a few steps, and despite an obvious limp, seemed to be able to walk.. slowly.

She still didn't seem to watch to Balrog in the eyes, or elaborate more on the situation. It seemed obvious enough to her what had happened...or perhaps she was just too ashamed.


Balrog's face creased heavily in concern. "I didn't know you were..." he stopped himself. Maybe they hadn't been theirs. Maybe they were foundlings she fought to protect. An ear flicked back. If that was the case, she shouldn't have interjected herself. It was dangerous and not her responsibility... but it wouldn't have been out of character for Stormwild.

He watched her move forward like a foal trying to walk for the first time, her weight askew, and trying to favor more than one leg. He hated to interrupt her, to call her back, but....

"But what about that one...?" He gestured with a wing to the muddy basket.


Stormwild finally looked up at him through her straggly mane, a look of confusion crossing her face. "What?" She followed his gaze down to the basket and Stormwild looked as if she might collapse once again. "No... it couldn't be. They... they got them all..." She stumbled over to it, leaning down and taking hold of the top of the basket and gently pulled. The wicker receptacle made a slight sucking noise as it came free, dripping a red-colored liquid from it as Storm placed it delicately on the ground. "I swear..." she looked utterly confused, her disbelief obvious. "There were two of them... two hideous creatures... a walker..and..and.. something worse..."


Balrog swallowed as he listened. He glanced back to the basket, battered and dripping and winced. Even if it was still here and in tact... could it really still hold a living foal?

"Are you certain..?" He asked gently, knowing that she must have been through hell, and hesitant to pry further into the situation. "Maybe they missed it... in the mud...?"


"I don't... " she was stunned, trying to shake clear her muzzy head and remember the details. "I don't remember," she said, barely audible.

She nosed the basket, taking every inch of willpower not to lose her composure. She picked it back up, holding the sogging basket in her mouth and began slowly walking in the general direction of home.


Balrog swallowed and nodded. The most important thing right now would be to get Stormwild... and the basket... back to somewhere safe. It was a hard path up to the herdlands on the ground. Balrog had made sure of that when they had picked the location. But it was possible. It would probably take a few days with her injured like this. He ... hoped she could make it.

Balrog walked close by Stormwild, and went to make an effort to take the basket from the injured mare, but seeing the expression in her eyes, he drew back. He matched her pace, never taking her eyes from her, but trying to subtly offer her a shoulder here where a footstep faltered, or a guiding wing. He didn't know what else to say, so he walked in silence.

Stormwild eventually, every several days, began to speak in short bursts about the attack - there was a vicious pale skinwalker and a large, menacing beast she described as a horse-sized wolf with wings of terror and a thousand evil eyes. The attack was brutal and quick, and after a long fight she finally drew them off, but collapsed afterwards. She admitted that her memory was hazy, and that she was nearly certain all her baskets had been destroyed by the skinwalkers.

"Honestly," she had some at some point to her mate, "I was beginning to convince myself that I had no baskets at all... that I had imagined them." She looked so incredibly sad, but her voice and body grew stronger by the day. "I had even convinced myself that it was all a dream, until you found it."

She was referring of course to the damaged basket that nestled between them every night. Remarkably, once the mud, snow, and blood had dried and flaked off, the basket was looking better by the day. Perhaps a bit frayed, but it maintained its weight, it's warmth, and one could feel the dull, magical pulse of life from deep within. Though it took considerably longer than most baskets, the drab. dark grey basket began to slowly take on some of the colors of it's caretakers - and by the time they had reached the base of their mountain home, the orange and purple runes slowly began to glow, causing Stormwild to smile for the first time since Balrog had found her.




Balrog displayed an almost uncharacteristic amount of patience as he helped Stormwild back to the herdgrounds - the long way. There was only one ground path up to the alpine plains, and it was not easy to navigate, even by an uninjured soquili. But there was a reason they had a path like this. Like when his grandaughter had brought another injured stallion up to their herd to rest and repair his wings. Balrog never thought he would have to use the path himself, but he had made a point to learn it. And.. he was glad that he had been convinced out of destroying the path to ensure that only the winged could reach their hideaway. Instead, they had just disgused the path, ideally so only those that knew it could find it.

Balrog wasn't sure, when Stormwild finally did speak of the nightmare, that it would have been better or worse had she dreamed the baskets. He mourned their loss.... their children... but... one had miraculously survived... somehow? But it didn't seem to make sense how or why.

But when the familiar colored runes slowly came to life on the basket, a warmpth filled Balrog's heart. Maybe there was a reason the spirits had watched out for this little one.

 

[Sabin Duvert]

Arabian Nights, Part 2
RP with Kasim and Durriyah

It took longer than Kasim had anticipated to finangle the ransom letter and get it delivered to the kingdom indirectly, and many trips to and from his hidden cave. Kasim half expected to one day find the cave empty, cloven hoof prints leading out into the desert. While someone who did not know the ways of the sand would likely find themselves quickly in danger out in the fickle desert - between its blistering hot days and chilling nights and lack of water, it was a harsh land. But Kasim had not locked up Durriyah. And he would not have been surprised had she taken her chances out in the dunes than with the dark unikalona. He would have to track her back down, lead her back to the cave.... but she did not run. Every time he came back to the caves, she was there, waiting for him.


Kasim had always walled himself off from other soquili. Prepared to be treated badly. Glares and curses were the way that Kasim was accustomed to be greeted by any he might encounter. But with Durriyah... her demeanor was different. Certainly, she had been scared when he had taken her - her fate was unknown. But when she realized that he had no intent to hurt her, her personality began to emerge. She was different. She did not judge or presume to know him before she truly met him, like many others. She had been so isolated in her kingdom that she was almost... eager... to learn about the underbelly of the city, or the life out in the blowin sands.

Kasim found himself talking to her - telling her stories of the adventures he had had - or the tales of thrills and deceit.

And, as the time for the exchange approached... Kasim found himself experiencing something wholly unusual for him... guilt.


What had started with Durriyah as sheer pity quickly grew into a kind of ... affection. So locked up and hidden from the world, she was entranced by his tales. When the day came that she was to be returned to her family... she was racked with conflicting emotions. She was ecstatic to see her father - to be back into the clean, marbled world of the castle grounds. But at the same time, she was dreaded returning and never being able to leave again, she was afraid they would lock her up again like a bird in a cage - even moreso than before. And deeper yet... she knew in her heart she was going to miss Kasim and his stories.

She bowed her head in shame as she walked by his side, knowing what she was feeling was blasphemous. She would never see Kasim again after today... and the thought was gut-wrenching. But what was there to do? Kasim came from a different world, one that she could not be a part of; nor he of hers. Today would be their final goodbye, no matter what she did.

Finally, walking in relative silence as they both were preoccupied with their own thoughts, they reached the remote dessert meeting point for the exchange. "Father!" she called out, the joy of seeing him temporarily relieving the ache in her heart. She dared pass Kasim without permission, but she whinnied her happiness, shaking her mane in excitement. She could barely contain herself as they came within yards of each other - Durriyah and Kasim versus her father's caravan. Durriyah's father gave her a quick glance, but his solemn, soldering gaze was leveled directly at her captor.


As Kasim made the long trek from his hideaway to the meeting point, emotions tumbled through his chest. The aching pangs of guilt for having stolen this treasure that he felt that he was too dirty to have even been in her presence. And yet, he also felt pangs of regret. If he were to keep this prize, he would surely be hunted and skinned alive, and yet, Durriyah was the first soquili who had listened to him with a genuine smile. She was a treasure, but not in the way that the armed guards visualized her. She was kind, and thoughtful, beyond just her pristine fur or champion bloodlines.

But as they crested the last dune, Kasim knew the time was upon them. He could see the stallion standing boldly in the moonlight, the caravan behind him. Kasim's withers twitched. He didn't see any guards, like he had demanded, but that didn't mean that things were as they seemed.

Kasim extended a wing as Durriyah moved to join her father, gently interposing between her and him. There was a ransom....


A ransom...

Kasim's ear flicked back as that twisting feeling churned in his gut again. Guilt.

The mare by his side was worth far more than any amount of gold or jewelry. And Kasim needed the money. This was a golden opportunity, and he was hungry. And yet, something about actually sealing the transaction cheapened the experience. It would change what might have been a chance encounter to the dirty, disreputable deed of kidnapping; no way around it.

He drew a breath. He was certain that the caravan cart behind him was laden with the payment Kasim had demanded... and yet...

His tail flicked quickly. Kasim knew that life or death could fall on the speed of a decision. He snapped his wing back by his side.
"Go to him." Kasim murmured harshly to Durriyah, masking his emotion. And then, with just a momentary glance to Durriyah, his eyes expressing more than his gruff exterior could, he turned quickly, to make his escape.


Durriyah was naive, and didn't realize at first the significance of letting her go before the gold was exchanged. "Father!" she called, running towards him and rubbing her nose happily along the side of his face. The large stallion's expression softened momentary to return his daughter's affectionate nuzzle, but her quickly noticed Kasim turn and make for his escape. He stiffened, highly confused. Had he caught wind of their ambush. He reared up with a thunderous cry, kicking up the sand around him.

It was not gold laden in the caravans at all... at least not completely. Armed guards rushed at the sound of the cry. Before Kasim could get very far he was surrounding by guards with swords, surrounding him.

"What's going on?" Durriyah cried, getting agitated at the sight of the drawn swords.


Kasim cried out in surprise and anger. A setup! An ambush! He hadn't even had time to gain speed to take off into the air. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by guards with shining blades. There was no room to maneuver or take to the skies.

He was stupid, stupid for thinking he actually had a shot at getting away with a ransom - not with the finances of the royal family and their trained guards. This was no merchant caravan.

He should have just stayed back, seen Durriyah to the exchange. But no... he had to see her that last time, he had to wait to make the decision to just release her. And now he was going to pay for that!

Anger flared in Kasim, releasing into a furious screaming whinny. He had let her go! And they still attacked??

"RELEASE ME!" He screamed towards the stallion. "I returned her safely, You double-crossing dog!"



"How you call me a dog," Dahlia's father roared, walking towards him, Durriyah following behind on confusion and worry. "You are the dog. And the punishment for kidnapping is death!"

Durriyah's eyes went wide.

"NO!" she cried out, tugging on the reins of her father's headdress. "You cannot, he let me know."

Her father turned to her, a look of dissapointment on his face - why was she so upset by this? "This is for your honor," he said, creasing his brow. "Only the blood of this sinner will atone for the sin." His attention back to the guards. "Do it!"

The blades were raised, but Durriyah, without thinking, screwed her eyes shut and dashed out in front of them, putting herself between the deadly swords and Kasim. "No! I refuse!"

Kasim's heart was in his throat. He had been close to death before, but never had he been THIS close. He had been stupid, Durriyah had gotten under his skin and caused him to make mistakes. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this mess when the unthinkable happened...

Durriyah interposed herself between the blades and him.

No one had ever stood up for him before, let alone risked their life to save his. His jaw fell open, but no words emerged.

Certainly, she was being foolish. She was born to wealth and was used to getting her way. But still... despite how naive she was, she was standing up to the orders of her father, and shining blades.

"Durriyah.." He finally murmured softly, worried. "Durriyah... do not risk yourself for my pathetic life."


She gave a desperate glance back at him before puffing out her chest and standing up to the men that faced her. "Father!" she called to him as he marched over, eyes burning with fury. "Nobody's life needs be wasted. I have returned and your have your gold, let him go!"

"You..." her father seethed, he voice deep and gravely - shaking with rage and wavering with betrayal. "You chose this rat over your own family?"

The young mare look deeply wounded. "No!" she pleaded, "No... I'm not choosing anyone over anybody!" Her voice was high and hysterical, a tinny, small squeal compared to her fathers.

But her father looked as if he might collapse under the own weight of his broken hard. "You are like tarnished gold," he finally said, his eyes burning. "You are a disgrace," he stamped his hooves hard, throwing sand up into Durriyah's face.

"That is not my daughter - dispose of the criminals."


Kasim's eyes flashed. He had never thought highly of the nobility before. Durriyah had just about changed his mind of at least some of them. But this contemptuous decree!
Kasim had never known a family, but deep down, he had often caught himself longing to have known them... that he would haev been wanted. Seeing this father cast off his very daughter - seeing her has nothing more than a spoiled prize, it infuriated him.

The guard's eyes were temporarily on the stallion - surprised themselves by his demands. It was the tiny window that he needed.
The 'thumb' of his wing caught on the bandolier by his side, loosing one of the smoke bombs. It tumbled to the ground, hissing and spraying out volumnous smoke.

As the clouds rose, Kasim whispered hastily to Durriyah, "Quickly! Come with me!"


"Daddy!" she cried out in desperation. "What are you..." her panicked, panged voice was cut short by a gasp as she heard his command. Before she had time to truly think, a thick fog exploded around her feet. She heard Kasim's harsh whisper in her ear, and the feel of his shoulder against hers. She did as she was told, following him out of the smoke and ran with him far into the desert.


Kasim wasted no time in beating a fast retreat. Running, he was used to. The smoke would only last a short period of time, and he was certain that the guards would be fast on their heels.

He glanced back at Durriyah, making sure that she was keeping up with him.

His mind raced. Had he been alone, he would have taken to the skies. His cursed wings were good for something at least, despite the attempts others had made to wound him, to keep him from flight.

Their hoofbeats thudded over the sands. Words failed Kasim for quite a time. He didn't know what they were going to do. He had been wanted in the past, but to have escaped execution with Durriyah alive and by his side... the Sultan would not abide by such an embarrassment. They would have to leave... they would have to go far, far away from here if they hoped to survive past this night.

He glanced back at Durriyah again, his eyes softening as they met hers.

But it was worth it.
 

[Sabin Duvert]

A Beautiful Circumstance
RP with Carnivale and Devicius



RP Located Here

 

[Sabin Duvert]

The Fires That Burn
RP with Beltane, Samhain, and Avalon

None of the others had understood. None of them wanted to. Not that he could blame them. The decision to leave their homeland was a difficult one, but it seemed that only death waited for those that chose to stay. A few stragglers had stayed behind longer than the main herd. Those that were fearful of change. Those that held faith in the old ways and the protective arms of their secluded forest.

But for Beltane, the decision was not so much one between the old and the new, but one of abandonment of his Totem. He felt like a traitor if he fled the fires. Fires were powerful agents of change, but never had he seen such wrath... such slaughter and destruction. He had known of forest fires. Of lives claimed, but it was all a part of the cycle of the forest. New growth, new life came from the old. The wake of the fire left fertile soil, and left those that lived fertile.

But this time, wave after wave of the destruction kept coming... and coming... It was too much. But Beltane would not accept it without explanation. He had to understand what could anger the forset so much, what could turn Fire into such a vengeful executioner. And so, with a tremulous heart rare in the vivacious stallion, he headed North into the woods, deeper and deeper, determined to find the source of the anger.

His sister Samhain thought him mad. She has screamed at him, yelling that he was risking his life. That even if he survived, even if he satisfied his curiousity, how could he ever find their herd now that it was moving? She would stay with the herd. She was studying to be the new lorekeeper. The knowledge and memories of the herd needed a vessel. She could not risk her life. The move to new territory made her job even more important. She would remember their homelands. What it looked like, how it was before the fires came. And she could tell the story to future foals of what led them to leave.

But even her earnest words could not sway Beltane's decision. She nuzzled him tenderly, and behind choked tears, she wished him luck, and that she would see him again in the new lands.

***

It had been weeks since he left, heading deeper and deeper. Looking for signs of the fire's passage. Signs of repeated consumption of the woods. Few animals dwelled here, and fewer plants. He often went hungry, chipping away the charred bark to chew on barely edible tree wood beneath. He nibbled on the occasional brave shoots that peeked through the charring.

And still, he traveled. He knew he was going in the right direction. He could smell the ash in the air, sense a wrongness.

And yet, somehow the licks of new flame still managed to catch him by surprise. Beltane could have sworn that the fire had already consumed all that was there to consume. But the blaze was spreading quickly, its flame-tongues seemeing to lick out any consumable wood, and it was as if the fire were a living thing, just as hungry as he, and seeking out any source of food. Beltane tried to find a way around the blaze, but it was spreading, and the smoke was clogging the air. He found himself doubling back, looking for a way out. For a moment, the thought hit him that the totem he revered might just call on him to feed its hunger.

He scrambled, crying out in new fear, as he watched with saucer-eyes as an ancient tree, smouldering red-hot, groaned and began to fall... straight towards him.

The last thing Beltane saw before the blackness consumed him was the tree, rushing to meet him, and then a rush of air, and heavy impact.

***

Beltane had not expected to see the light of day again, let alone to wake to find himself not charred or burned. He blinked in the light. The smell of smoke still hung in the air, but it no longer felt like the air was boiling around him.

Slowly, a fuzzy figure standing above him began to resolve itself into what stole Beltane's breath away.

It looked like an angel.

Her burning amber eyes seeming to - like his own- capture the spirit of fire itself.

He found himself smilng, bowing his head in reverence.

"My lady... you... saved me?"

Avalon smiled down at the strange stallion. She had only heard of his kind whispered in stories. An elusive breed, more like deer than soquili, who had lived far far away. Some said that they had died out in an ancient confrontation with other soquili, but his presence here proved those stories wrong.
Eager for something new, something she had not seen before, Avalon had traveled.
But the massive fires had caught her attention. Such energy - such hunger and power demanded a closer look. Always fearless, always impulsive, Avalon had found the massive fire that stretched nearly as far as her eyes could see nearly irrisistible.

She had sailed along the unnaturally hot currents, daringly sailed along the reaching plumes of flame, and dove through the pillar-like column of smoke. When a figure below caught her eye. A stallion... No... not just a stallion, a cerynei!

She saw the danger, and rushed before having to think twice, knocking him out of the way of the falling tree, and taking him to safety.

She smiled as he came to, "I did. You have great courage to have braved the fires. But these lands have seen much death. You could not live here, what has brought you to this land?"


Beltane rolled to his feet, shaking the ash from his pelt. "No, my lady. I come from the South." He did not speek of their homegrounds, even abandoned, he felt as if it were still a secret he must preserve.

"It is the fires that brought me here. I seek to discover what has angered it so, what has caused Fire to lay waste to these great forests. Never have I heard of such destruction.



She regarded him seriously. She could see the passion in his eyes and hear it in his voice.
Quietly, she thought of what she had seen, and nodded quietly. "I believe that your travels take you in the correct direction. The land ahead is black and pained. It has seen a wrongness. If you continue, you travels may become more hazardous.." She cautioned, but her eyes shone. This bravery and determination she could respect. "There is a stench of otherness that lays beyond this fiery wake. Be wary in your travels."


Beltane nodded solemnly. "I knew my path would be frought with danger. I do not shy from it. I feel it is my responsibility to understand what has driven us from our homelands. To understand why Fire has become angered.
I have followed the teachings that Fire offers all of my life. I cannot so simply abandon it. There must be a reason behind its madness."



Avalon nodded. "Fire is indeed a powerful totem. Perhaps not one of wisdom, but one of energy and life. Not usually such senseless destruction and death." She consented. "If it is an answer you seek, then you have my blessing. I hope you find your answer, Stag, and that your quest does not get you burned."


Beltane bowed reverently, touching his rack to the ground before the angeni. He felt honored by her very presence. But to receive her blessings, and for her to have saved his life... he was indebted. And... it meant that perhaps the spirits saw his quest and smiled on it. He was on the right path.

"My lady, I am in your debt."



She shook her head violently. "No debts. No promises. I live for the day, and do not cling to promises or burdons of finding them once again. If you demonstrate to show your thanks, you may. Or you may go on your way with my blessings and kind words, but do not give me promises for the future."


Beltane blinked, surprised at her refusal of what he thought was a common offer. "My... infinite apologies. I had never meant to offend. I am in awe of your presence, and the kindness that you have shown me. If there is a way that I can show you my appreciation, please, tell me. Perhaps one of the trinkets from my home?" He looked at the pieces of Jewelry that she wore, not too unlike his own.



Avalon paused in consideration, glancing at the stones woven into his hair, and the tight necklaces. She tossed her head. She had no desire to untangle his mane, or to have such constricting necklaces.

However, she did entertain another thought... Avalon was Freedom. She lived for the moment, seizing on any whim without regret or second thought. There was something else the stag could offer - perhaps a unique opportunity.

"Perhaps there is a way you can show me your thanks..." And she leaned in to speak softly in his velvety ear...


Beltane's eyes widened. Even if this mare did not believe in fate, to Beltane it seemed as if the fires had brought him a boon... with a blushing nod, he smiled to her. "I would be honored..."
 

[Sabin Duvert]

Winds of Change
RP with Firestorm, Balrog, Stormwild, Cataclysm and Thunderbird

Balrog stood at the edge of the bluff that overlooked the alpine valley that served as the common grounds of their herd. The foaling grounds, the wider stretch of land where the most succulent grasses grew. The place that his herd bedded down to rest at night, in clear view of a protector who watched over them.

This was his herd... his family.

This was the same place that Balrog had, many seasons ago, cried a challenge to the spirits to let him prove the mettle of his herd. And it seemed as if some malicious spirit might have heard his challenge. But instead of a test that might prove their mettle, it came in the form of dissent - Firestorm leaving the herd to be with a mare that Stormwild did not approve of. And it came in the form of vicious beasts that had attacked his mate when she was alone and vulnerable... with foals. It was these monsters that had wreaked havoc on his own progeny. Or perhaps it was his own arrogance. Thinking his herd immune from predators... But when he had let his guard down, once again... there was death.

Balrog caught sight of a figure heading towards the herdgrounds and took to wing to meet them. He had been on full alert since he and Stormwild had finally made it back home. He had barely slept, making sure that she was always in his sights. That the remaining basket was kept safe.

She was healing, thank the spirits, and the basket still seemed to miraculously hold life within. He would not let anyone take that from him.

The figure approaching was Cataclysm - who had also left the herd temporarily in a state of unrest. She never went far, or stayed gone for that matter, but she had been lonely and fussy and had taken to exploring beyond the herdlands for weeks at a time. She saw her father approaching and felt a twinge of apprehension and nervousness roll over in her stomach. She splayed her wings in the wind and swooped down to meet him, clearing her throat closing her eyes for a moment to compose herself.

"Father," she acknowledged with a smile.


Balrog sighed with relief as he saw the figure resolve into the familiar form of Cataclysm. She was back, and safe by the looks of it. He nodded a greeting to her and angled his flight downwards to the herdgrounds, down near where Stormwild rested.

"It is good to see you well, Daughter." he responded as he touched down.



"Very well," she said, tossing her braided mane back out of her face as she touched down next to Balrog. "So well, actually," she said in her usual haughty tone, "that you might be surprised." She gave a little snort. "I've been busy, as you may or may not have noticed, I've been out a lot recently. Since I've been abandoned by my sister, I wasn't content to just sit around and be ignored any longer."

She flicked her tail, watching him closely out of the corner of her eye, watching his expression. "I've been meeting new Soquili," she said, "All the wonders of the wind aren't isolated to our one herd."


Balrog's eyes narrowed skeptically. HE had heard similar from one of his offspring just recently. Firestorm and the demon-mare that hye had still yet to see with his own eyes.

"I have noticed, my daughter. And I am well aware that the lands and skies extend beyond our borders. But no land is finer than our home. Remember that this is your home, Cataclysm. And surely, you have not been abandoned by your herd. Maelstrom has merely found a find stallion to share her life with, and brought him into this herd." Balrog was not entirely oblivious of the dynamics of the members of the herd. He remembered how close that his daughters had been for most of their young life. But Maelstrom had been spending a majority of her time with her mate and her own daughters since their arrival. But still, such things did not mean that she no longer loved her sister.



Cata's expression seemed to darken with the mention of Mael and her perfect wonderful stallion. "I'm not leaving," she basically mumbled, snorted again, trying to gain the courage to say what she wanted to...what she needed to. "But I have too have found a stallion," she said with a resolute nod. "A stunning one," much more impressive than Wild Wind, she barely managed to hold back. "One like i've never seen, Father. He's like a ghost..." she swallowed, "Something greater than a mere mortal stallion."


Balrog tilted his head as he listened to Cataclysm, and heard the marvel in her voice. "A ghost, you say?" Had his daughter truly seen a phantasm. He had noted her jealousy. Was her story even real, or had she wished for a suitable mate so badly that she invented one?

"This stallion of yours, he did bear wings, did he not?" Balrog inquired almost predictably.


"Of course he did!" she almost snapped, looking offended. But the question was a fair one... it had, more than once, crossed her mind to bring home a grounded stallion just for the reaction - and therefore, attention - it would bring. "I'll do you two better, Father, he had four - ghostly, translucent, amazing wings, Father... he is terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time. Trust me, you would like him."


Balrog uttered an undecipherable rumble as he listened to her tale. Four wings? It sounded like a fairy tale his mother had told him once. One that he had since passed off as just rumor.

But if this were the truth..? He let the concept roam about in his head.

"He does indeed sound legendary." Balrog conceded. "It is a pity that he did not come back with you..." He let that hang on the air for a moment, before toning down a bit. "But I shall be eager to see the results of this union." Which was the truth.



"Maybe you can meet him soon," she said, "But he's hard to pin down." She lifted her chin to look at him, still watching his expressions closely. "But you should not have to wait too long to see the results..." she trailed off for a second. "I've come home to prepare for foals."


"Oh really?" Balrog's voice was a mix of surprise and skepticism. Foals so quickly? Then again, Cataclysm had been spending a lot of time away from the herd. Who knew how long she and the mysterious stallion had been seeing each other.

He paused for a moment before tossing his head in a nod. "Then it sounds like my congratulations are due, Daughter. I shall eagerly await seeing your foals." Balrog did hope that they were as grand as she was claiming. He would be interested to see if there was evidence in these foals of the claimed grandeur of the father.



Cata lets out a breath of relief that she didn't even realize she was holding when her father seemed to approve. "You'll be proud of me," she said, almost a question more than a statement. She puffed out her chest and stepped a bit easier, looking around her herd lands and, for the first time in quite a while, was so very happy to be home.

******************************

Only days after Cataclysm's return to the herdlands, another figure could be seen in the sky, making its way towards the elusive meadows that the Thunderbird herd called their home.
This time, a fire-eyed alicorn stallion who came in for a heavy landing feet from Stormwild, kicking up no small amount of soil. Shaking himself, Firestorm regarded his stepmother without so much as a formal greeting or introduction, nodded his head with a toss. "I heard word that you had been hurt."


Storm was curled up on a warm patch of grass upon the mountain, her figure and wings hiding the one precious basket from any harm. She looked up with the land, snorting in irritance at the kicked up of dust flying in her direction. She narrowed her eyes at her son, “Yes, looking for you,” she snapped, but her expression softened and she sighed – while she had left looking for him she hadn’t been attacked until she had been grounded by her impending labor. “But I am on the mend, I am glad to see you are doing well.”


An ear pinned back at the accusational greeting, and he snorted, his expression darkening despite her retraction. Firestorm's temper had been prodded.

"Well I'm fine." He said with a defensive retort. "You needent worry about me and my 'demon-lover,'" He glared. "She hasn't eaten me yet." He tossed his head.



Stormwild gave a heavy sigh. "I'm not particularly worried about you," she said. "They are possessive - and if she has 'chosen' you she will not want to share you - even with your family."

She let a pause hang in the air for a moment.

"And they can snap....at any given moment."

Another pause.

"And I can't help but notice you're not in a rush to show her off."


Firestorm snorted derisively. "She can't tell me what to do." He tossed his mane for emphasis. "I'm with her because I WANT to be with her. And besides, you haven't exactly been all that welcoming. Why would I want to bring her here with all of this bile you've been spewing." He snorted.

"Just wait. Soon, soon we'll have foals of our own." He let that hang in the air with a daring smile. "And they will be STRONG!" Certainly, Shinoma was not actually with foal yet, but they were trying! ANd Firestorm had confidence.



Storm shook her head. "I think you know a part of you is ashamed." She frowned at the mention of foals. "Please be careful, Firestorm. You have a family here... don't bring foals into the world just out of spite. They will need a strong and loving herd to help raise them well."


Firestorm blatantly rolled his eyes at her accustaion. "Anything but. I came here beacuse I heard you had been hurt, but obviously you're not THAT hurt. And Shinoma and I are perfectly strong enough to raise foals! We don't NEED a bunch of lazy, weak old mares to watch over them."

He went to raise his wings when he noticed something tucked under her large wings. His brow furrowed. A basket?
A flash of... something... ran cold then hot in his chest. Had she and Balrog birthed more foals? THIS Firestorm had not heard.

His ears flattened. "You have baskets?" It almost came out as an accusation rather than a question. Were they trying to replace him? Despite having left the herd, in Firestorm's mind, it wouldn't be forever. He was the golden child - the son of Balrog, and Stormwild, even as he had retorted more than once - wasn't his real mother, she was more of his mother than his real dam was. ANd on top of that, since he had been trying, there was a basket, tucked casually under her wing, spiting him, almost as if it were calling him impotent.


"I think once you have foals of your own you'll be singing a different tune. I just hope your children don't ultimately have to suffer for your stubbornness."

At the mention of the basket Storm couldn't help but smile a bit. She lifted her wing to give a better view: the black and orange and purple glowing basket seemed to be almost lit up in the shadow of its mother's body. "Even more a reason we'd like to see you home and with your family," she said, "You're going to be a big brother soon."



Firestorm's face darkened. "We shall see, Stormwild. But if I got my stubbornness from any, it was Balrog." He flicked his tail. "I think I could be a better sire than he!"

Firestorm eyed the single basket nestled by her side. His confidence and irritation brimming, he made no effort to hold back his quip. "What? Just one?" He laughed outright. "Perhaps you and Balrog have grown impotent in your old age."


Stormwild couldn't deny that Firestorm was indeed his father's son. She simply shook her head.

But the comment about her one basket incensed a rage in her that the Elder had not felt in many years. She quickly got to her feet, stepping quickly away from the basket in fear that she might stomp on it her rage. "How dare you," she roared, flaring her wings up in a show of fierce dominance. "You nearly lost your Alpha and mother, and now you dare to insult the memory of deceased siblings." She tried to calm herself - there was no way he could have known. But regardless she felt as if, based on her impotency or her inability to protect them - he was blaming their deaths on her. "You spoiled, heartless, arrogant stallion, it;s about time you actually learned a lesson about that ungrateful tongue of yours." She continued to storm up to him, head high and threatening, quickly entering his personal space.



Firestorm felt as if the words evaporated from his mouth. For once, he was silent. Deceased siblings...? In his ire, Firestorm didn't even consider that possibility. Now, it seemed blatantly obvious. She had been injured...

He found himself backpedaling as Stormwild drew herself to her full height, wings spread and flapping for effect. Suddenly, she had all of the force of presence of the Alpha that she was.

"Storm... I... I didn't know.." He stumbled over the words.

Then, suddenly, a loud CRACK from behind Stormwild interrupted their conversation...


TO BE CONTINUED...  

[Sabin Duvert]

A Pact
RP with Taraxippus and Megaera

Megaera didn't even hear him approach. She had been resting, watching Psyche and Mixcatl speaking from a distance. There was a strange expression in the half-Kalona's eyes as she watched her daughter, and was thoroughly distracted.


"Megaera. I need to have a word with you." Taraxippus's voice startled Megaera from her reverie.


"Tara.." Megaera clumsily got to her feet, smiling demurely. Her heart beat a little faster. He needed her for something? She adored her "big brother", and aside from her two sisters, he had been one of the few constants in her life. He looked out for her, and he made this place feel like home.


"I have something I need for you to do for me. No, for this herd."


"Of course, Brother. Anything." She watched him with her fiery eyes, wondering what service she could offer.


"I know that what I ask of you will not be easy for you. But I know you are strong enough. For our herd to grow stronger, we need an infusion of powerful blood."


Her brows furrowed. Megaera was a mare of simpler thoughts. But she trusted Taraxippus, and usually let either him or Alecto do most of the thinking. "New Blood...? What do you mean?" Suddenly a chill of fear ran through her. "You... do not want me to leave, do you, Brother?"


Taraxippus shook his head with a mirthful smile. "No Megaera, of course not. I would never wish you to leave this herd. You add to our strength, to our unity. You are my sister." He continued wih a velvety voice. "No, it is because of your strength that I come to you. I have met a stallion, one with a powerful physique, and a flame that rivals your own. He is fierce, and his stock is strong. I believe... that were he and you to produce foals, that they would be truly magnificent."


Megaera's relief was short lived. The thought of another stallion... Flashes of the deceptive butterfly flashed in her mind. What he had convinced her to do, what she didn't understand. And of the fiery vengeance she had taken out on him personally.
But then, her anger tempered. She looked to Psyche, her daughter. The one she had kept. She was so frightened with the idea of children. Especially three. But now, now she almost regretted giving away two to the herd of the butterfly. Psyche's arrival had given her life more meaning. And Taraxippus had been there to help. Her and her sisters, and the rest of the herd.
She swallowed, eyes downcast. "Taraxippus..." She hesitated.


"Megaera." Taraxippus crooned. "It will be different. You know what you are doing. And you will produce fine offspring. Ones that would do you whole herd proud. And think, new foals to raise and love." He knew exactly the words to say. He knew all of Megaera's buttons - how to set off her anger or to get her to aquiese to what he waned. He had studied her since she was a foal, and him a very young stallion. He had goals, and he would see them through. He would build on the strength of their herd, and they would use that power. But they needed numbers. He was not that foolish.


Megaera paused, eyes holding her shadowy mentor. "Maybe I should talk to Alecto and Tisiphone.." She hesitated.


"You do not need to ask their permission to raise foals. They were anything but upset with you when you had your first children. Trust me, Megaera. I have seen you drifting apart. This will rekindle that fire of yours."


She thought. The gears in her head turning slowly. Really, it was not that unreasonable of a request.

Before finally, she nodded to her brother. "Very well, Taraxippus. I ... I trust you."


A smile settled deeply onto Taraxippus's face. "Excellent, Megaera. You will not regret this decision."

And with that, he went out to finalize... the arrangements.


Megaera settled back down, huffing to herself, her thoughts wandering in a new direction now.

More foals. Children. The chance to interact more with them... a warm feeling settled in her chest. It... sounded good.
 

[Sabin Duvert]

Winds of Change, part 2
RP with Firestorm, Balrog, Stormwild, and Thunderbird

"You will call me mother you ungrateful wretch," she seethed, not slowing her approach. She was in his face, staring down at him with an intensity that was chilling and terrifying. "I may not have given birth to you but I have given you a life that you could never have had with your weak, skinny, excuse for a mare that did!"

It wasn't until the sound of the crack that Storm looked distracted at all. Her ear swiveled back and as soon as she could determine the sound was coming from the basket, she whipped around, kicking dust in Firestorm's face as she landed and hovered over her treasure.

"Get your Father, now," she demanded to her step son.


Firestorm was backpedaling, fear and anger both building within him. She was a terrifying sight in her anger, and yet, the words she said... Even if he hadn't known his dam, by insulting her she was indirectly insulting him.

Thoughts were racing - scenarios, responses, but there wasn't much controlling those. The urge to run, but his ego wouldn't let him. The urge to fight, but fear battling that. Just as he was about to rear and make a challengeing whinny, there was the crack of the basket.

Firestorm likely didn't know how lucky he was to be interrupted.

He felt disjointed. What was happening? It seemed like thoughts were taking a long time to penetrate his head. The basket... HIs father... Balrog... he just stood there in confusion as anger and fear was fighting to keep the instructions from penetrating before, finally, it sunk in, and Firestorm, wordlessly but with ears pinned back, took to wing to go find Balrog.

The basket quivered and shook. Already, a large section of the basket weave had been torn, and something inside fought for life and freedom. Here, a glimpse of a tiny pale hoof. There, a flutter of feathers.

All of Strormwild's rage had melted away in a single instant. She hovered over the basket, shading it between her legs. She put her head down and nosed it gently, letting the scent of the new foal underneath fill her nostrils and her heart with joy. It took every ounce of her willpower not to rip the basket off in a matter of seconds; though the baby inside was struggling so knew it was important for the foal to make it out of its confines on its own strength, unless in the most dire of circumstances. She shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, her heart fluttering in joy and anxiety. What would come out? What if it looked nothing like her or Balrog and she - in some kind of delirious state - had stolen someone else's basket to cope with the loss of her own? What if, during the struggle, the basket had been damaged and knocked around the baby was horribly disfigured?

She gave a nervous whinny, looking up to the sky for her mate.


It was an agonizing five minutes as Stormwild stood over the wriggling basket, snaps of wicker and groans as the basket as a whole was strained before a large dark shape appeared in the sky, trailed by the smaller, thinner form of Firestorm.

Balrog flew quickly to his mate's side. He had been patrolling the herdgrounds, but the moment that Firestorm had breathed the word "basket", he had needed no further explanation before rushing back to where Storm had been 'nesting'.

He first greeted Storm with a nuzzle, before his eyes and attention were drawn to the basket. His chest filled with pride... and anxiety. Similiar thoughts had plagued the stallion - what if it wasn't his? What if it were... damaged... The circumstances around the basket were odd as it were. But all he could do was wait and watch with baited breath.


The basket strained, both ends seeming pressed from the inside by tiny hooves before, finally, with a loud POP, the basket ripped apart, sending a small foal spilling outwards.

His fur was dark, magenta eyes blinked up at the circle of adults surrounding him. Runic patterns graced his ankles and neck. And on his back, four wings folded, fluttering occasionally in newfound freedom.


Stormwild froze.

She was seeing things... certainly...

The new baby was looking at her, wanting some kind of confirmation that she was his mommy. She should have been nuzzling it, licking it, comforting it..

...but all she could do was stare.

The implications of this...

She finally moved her head...just enough to look at her mate, seeing if he was seeing the same thing she was.



All Balrog could do for a moment was stare. What did this mean? Was it his? The coloration... certainly resembled both him and his mate... And she had to have been pregnant before she left searching for Firestorm. There could not have been another father. and yet... Balrog could not deny the ... amazing feature. The double set of wings... like the stories... like Cataclysm's claim.

The fact the basket had survived an improbably attack... maybe... the spirits had looked down on them. Maybe they had blessed their child - saved it or... changed it... or... something.

He tore his eyes away from the colt, staring up at them to meet Stormwild's eyes.

"Thank the spirits.... Our... son...?" He did not mean for it to come out so much like a question, but he earnestly sought to hear Stormwild's guess.


She found it hard to find her voice. "This is impossible," she finally whispered. She took a hesitant step towards the baby, leaning her head down and nuzzling the small, beautiful wings. A sort of peace fell over her, the panic and uncertainly she had felt just moments ago seemed to be ebbing away as she took in the scent and feel of her new child. She knew in her heart that this child was hers - if not by blood by Divine doctrine. The spirits had sent this child to her - and whether it was born through the labor or her loins, or blessed upon her by a sympathetic spirit to help her mourn the loss of her children - starting from that moment Storm didn't know or care. She had adoptive 'children' before - and while she loved them as she would her own children, there was always this understanding that they were not hers in the same manner that her blood children were. But she felt that her soul was intertwined with this one.

She looked and watched Balrog's expression carefully. "I think the spirits have chosen us."


The foal, exhausted from the effort of tearing his way into this new world, nuzzled against the big, warm, nice-smelling mare, his heart filling with the simple love of a foal for his mother.

Balrog felt his apprehensions and skepticism melt. It did not matter to him either. A similar conclusion entered his mind as Storm spoke. He felt... Right. More right than he could remember. Here, with his mate, in their herd, among their family. Here he was, blessed with this vindication personified - the spirits had chosen THEM. Their family, their herd. This tiny foal cast in his and Storm's image, bearing the legendary double wings of the heavens. The spirits had heard them.

"Thunderbird be praised." Balrog spoke reverently. Their herd totem - the great spirit of flight, strength, and change.

Meanwhile, forgotten, Firestorm took a step backwards, his face darkening with a jealous hatred at seeing the arrival of this "brother."

His ears plastered backwards. HE was the heir to this herd. HE was the son Balrog was proud of - his wings, and the horn of a unicorn. His strength. As much as Firestorm resented his father and how he had fallen into complacency, he secretly treasured how similiar they were - down to their stubbornness. He knew Balrog saw that - he KNEW that they would miss him when he was gone - come begging, crawling back to him to return and prove his strength. He could prove how strong he was being alone. Stormwild's scathing opinion of his mate only further stoked the fire of his ego - if he could be the mate of a Kalona... well... surely that was just another mark of his strength.

But now.... Now with... THAT. It probably wasn't even their foal. But look at them, crooning over the little mutant. How could it even fly right with so many wings.

But Firestorm KNEW. He knew the pride in his parents. He could all but SEE the little foal worming its way into HIS rightful place in this herd.

He stole one last seething look at Stormwild. She probably would soon dismiss him all together - he wasn't her son... and she would claim that this was hers - hers and Balrog's....

Firestorm continued to back up, his dark thoughts rolling through his head as he spread his wings and took to the skies, flying furiously back towards Shinoma.

He noted, with a mixture of distaste and petulance, that the skies were growing dark as thunderheads began to roll in, the first roll of thunder echoing across the mountains.

 

[Sabin Duvert]

Aftermath
RP with Ethan and Cricket and Ballestra

RP located HERE

Original RP Link: Here

Sabin Duvert

Battered and beaten, Ethan summoned the strength to walk, stiffly and pained, back in the direction that they had come to the edge of the woods. The entire walk, he had said nothing, and only risked one half-glance backwards to see that Cricket was actually still following him.

Defeated, humiliated, and ashamed of himself and his actions, Ethan felt empty. A part of him marveled at the fact she was still there. It almost wanted to be optimistic - a characteristic that until this point had defined the young stallion. But he couldn't quite get there. Maybe she was just looking for a way out of here, too.

Finally, when the sun once again dared penetrate the heavy boughs of the trees, and the thick vegetation began to disperse, Ethan felt his limbs give way below him, collapsing into a heap at the edge of the woods with a heavy sigh. He was glad to be out of there with both of their lives. But he wasn't sure what else he would be left with.

His eyes still on his front hooves, he uttered, barely above a whisper, "I'm Sorry."

The pain seemed to rise to full blossom now that the last dredges of adrenaline were leaving his system. Maybe he deserved it. He had started a fight. He had barely been himself in that - giving truth to what he had been denying since he left home. And he had risked both his AND Cricket's lives time after time... this whole journey... facing off against his brother...

He had been right. Maybe they weren't so different.

Sosiqui

For Cricket, the journey out of the forest had felt like wading through a thick fog. She was simultaneously exhausted and shaking with adrenaline, flinching anew at every sound or shadow, focusing as best she could on Ethan's retreating form. Following. Trying not to think about the crimson staining his sides.

When the young stallion finally collapsed, Cricket hung back for a moment, her own head hanging low. "Not your fault," she managed, after a moment. "You're hurt."

She blankly surveyed the extent of his injuries. She had no idea what to do, how to fix them - she had a dim thought that in the meadowlands where she'd lived, the two-leggers took care of such things.

But he was hurt, and she wasn't.

He'd protected her.

"'m sorry too," she whispered, letting gravity take over and thudding heavily to the ground. Not right next to him, but close enough. "I... I don't think your brother is a very nice stallion," she added, meekly.

She twitched as the sharp sound of a hawk's cry split the air, glancing up in time to see the flash of white wings above them. The hawk wheeled over them for a moment, then cried out again and winged away.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan sighed deeply, flinching as even subtle movements pulled against the gashes on his shoulders.

His eyes tentatively wandered up to Cricket's when she spoke to him. "It is m'fault." He groaned.

It was difficult to tell just how extensive his injuries were. Large smears of blood stained a large area of his shoulder and neck. There was a deep gash in his flank, and several smaller cuts along his legs. Certainly, there was more bruising not yet visible, and, Ethan winced as he wheased, likely a few cracked ribs.

"You don' need t' apologize." He continued, feeling sorry for himself. "I brought us there. It was... it was stupid." His ears canted backwards. "I... I shoulda known. Enough people warned me." He snorted.

"No. He's not a nice stallion. Tkoli was right. Even a bit o' Kalona blood is enough to taint you."

He started as the large raptor flew overhead. At first, his mind had conjured up images of an overeager buzzard, knowing how injured he was.

Sosiqui

Cricket's ears flicked back again. "Tkoli's not right," she said, a little more loudly than she meant to, as if she was trying to convince herself. "Some... some horses are just... just nasty... anyway..." Her words trailed off. She didn't know what to do, what to say.

She was so tired.

The silence was interrupted once again - this time not by the cry of a hawk, but by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Cricket was simply too tired to heave herself upright, instead lowering her head, closing her eyes, and burying her muzzle in the prickly grass. If it was trouble coming, maybe it wouldn't see her.

The hoofbeats drew closer, then stopped. "Ah - good, Suni," came a voice a moment later, an unfamiliar, deep voice that seemed to echo in Cricket's bones, though she still didn't dare to open her eyes.

The grass rustled around her. "I see you are wounded," came the voice, again. "I may be able to assist, if you tell me who you are and why you are here."

Cricket gritted her teeth, then opened her eyes - and facing her was not a Kalona or other terrible monster, but a unicorn, standing several feet away. The white hawk she'd seen earlier was circling above him.

All the tension seemed to flow out of her at once, and she swallowed, hard. "P-please, I... I'm Cricket, that's Ethan, and he... he's hurt, please..."

Sabin Duvert

Ethan didn't feel like arguing with Cricket. Despite her protests, he knew it was his fault that had had gotten hurt, and risked her. Diogenes could have done so much to her... it was nothing more than good fortune that he just simply hadn't bothered after besting him in the fight.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Maybe sleep would help. Or maybe he just wouldn't wake up again. He frowned at himself. No, that was too much, even as bad as he felt right now.

But he just felt so lost. What now? If his brother was this bad... what would his father be like? A fullblooded Kalona that even his brother - who was much larger than he - even described as massive. He had searched for him this long... and never before now had the idea of just giving up, abandoning this quest.

He was stirred from his thoughts by hoofbeats. Unlike Cricket, Ethan cracked open his eyes, finding himself staring up at a unicorn stallion. He swallowed, scared. Maybe this proud, noble soquili was here to finish the job - to vanquish the 'evil kalona'. Ethan was almost relieved by the fact this thought scared him.

But the stallion's question caught him by surprise, and Cricket found her voice before he did. He nodded with a gulp. "M'sorry... I hope this isn't your land or some'thin... There was this... stallion.." he started weakly. "I... well.." he stumbled on his words, trying to think of how to summarize the situation, but every way seemed to just sound horrible in his head. He got beaten up by his kalona-blooded brother on some foolish quest to find his kalona father?

"I was here looking... looking for my father. Now... I'm not so sure any more." His head drooped. "I don' think I'd like what I'd find." He took a shaking breath, not quite sure why he was telling this to a stranger. "Mah brother did this."

Sosiqui

"You are hardly the first creatures to emerge from the forest battered and broken. There are dark creatures there, shadows and shades." The unicorn walked closer to them, bending down over Ethan first, examining him. "You did not choose to run, then." If he was fazed by Ethan's kalona attributes, he didn't show it. "I can tend to your wounds, but it would be best if you could move. There is a stream not far from here that I use in healing."

"I... I'm not hurt," Cricket said, shaking her head, slowly. With effort, she heaved herself up off the ground, though the world seemed to tilt crazily as she did so. "Please, help... help Ethan." She gave him a pleading look that had an edge to it, as if she was daring the other stallion to mention Ethan's obvious heritage.

Obvious to her now, at any rate.

The unicorn merely gave her a sidelong look. "Broken is broken, and must be repaired. The details do not matter. Can you stand?" he added, focusing on Ethan, his demeanor entirely businesslike.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan swallowed, with a furtive glance backwards to the forest as if the shadows of the trees themselves themselves might spring to life and drag them back in. Ethan couldn't deny that something about the forest that now lay mercifully behind them had had a feeling of wrongness that had even shaken Ethan's optimism before his run-in.

"No." Ethan murmured. "Not at first at least." He should have run. It would have saved him this battering, and kept him from sinking to that level...

At least Cricket hadn't been injured. Ethan managed to nurse a small amount of thankfulness in that.

Ethan felt awkward being tended to like this, but he couldn't deny that if this stallion could do something to help... he needed it. With a groan, he shifted his weight, trying to get back to his hooves.

"Ah... think so..." His whole body put forth an obvious complaint as he began to get up. He felt stiff, achy, and wobbly. He felt like a newborn colt on shaking legs. His side ached and burned. His right front leg wasn't supporting his weight as well as it should.

With a hangdog look, Ethan looked to the unicorn for approval and guidance. "This stream... it's close... right?" he winced.

Sosiqui

"Very close. Come." The unicorn took a few steps away, where the land curved downward slightly. There was, indeed, the faint sound of splashing water coming from that direction. "Angle to the left; there is a pool there. Enter it."

After a moment, Cricket sidled over to Ethan, still shaking slightly; though her movements were tentative, she pressed gingerly against his side, another tremble running through her as she felt his blood on her skin. "Come on," she said, quietly.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan swallowed, nodding again to the unicorn. Moving was awkward, and painful, but when Cricket joined him by his side, he met her eyes briefly.

"'m sorry.." He whispered to her quietly as she touched him with a shudder. Was she quivering from his touch? She had to see him differently now.

He nodded, walking by her side to the awaiting stream.

The water looked refreshing, especially to his wounds, now caked with dried blood and dirt.

Sosiqui

"It... it's okay. You... I'm sorry, you... protected me," she said, her words halting, spoken so quietly as to be barely audible, even as close as Ethan was to her. "Please-"

The unicorn cleared his throat, and Cricket stiffened, turning her head to focus on him. "Let us tend to the external injuries prior to the internal, shall we?" he said, dryly. "If you will lay down, let the water cover you as best as you can." He demonstrated, trotting into the upper part of the pool and laying down; the bottom of the pool covered with clean sand. "The water will spread my power and work it into your wounds. It is a gentler method." He ducked his head, dipping his horn into the current."

"I'll help... come on," Cricket whispered, taking a few tentative steps into the cool water.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan paused for a moment, watching Cricket's expression before finally nodding, directing his attention back towards the stream.

Leaning heavily against Cricket, he carefully stepped down the decline into cool water. He looked to Cricket again as they entered the water, murmuring a simple "Thanks."

The water was soothing on his skin - cool and refreshing. With a smile, he waded in to about his knees before carefully repositioning himself to lay down, letting the water rise to his neck. He felt more than a little vunerable, glancing once more to Cricket for reassurance. But ultimately, he was tired, and sore, and needed something to trust.

Sosiqui

"It's okay," she repeated again, in a whisper, before bumping her nose awkwardly against his and backing out of the water to stand on the bank, water dripping from her hide.

"Let us begin, then," the unicorn said calmly, and lowered his head to submerge his horn in the water as best he could. As he did so, the horn began to glow; the glow spread into the water, coursing away to wrap around Ethan's injuries, bringing a warm tingling feeling along with it as the healing magic began to do its work.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan managed to summon a small smile for Cricket, even if there wasn't much confidence behind it.

He took a shaking breath and then watched as the unicorn began his work. He nearly sprung to his hooves in surprise as the water began to glow around him, feeling warm, tingling against his cut and battered skin. With awe, he looked towards Ballestra. he had never seen such magic before! The warmpth seeped into his body, filling it with its healing energy. Ethan watched, marveling at the magic that he possessed.

Why couldn't his sire be someone like him - someone undenyably good - a healer...

His mother knew what plants or herbs to chew on to ease pain, or how to wrap a sprained ankle with tight cloth to help it mend. But such magic like this... it was truly divine.

"Bless the spirits.." Ethan breathed as he watched the purplish bruises begin to fade to yellow, the skin begining to knit around his gashes.

Sosiqui

The unicorn smirked slightly, obviously pleased with Ethan's reaction. Still, he let out a long, shaky breath and lifted his horn free of the surface before the bruises and aches had vanished, though all the cuts and gashes were either healed or scabbed over. "That is all I can do for you," he managed, obviously a bit tired by the experience. "You were fortunate. The last one I found so had lost a limb. I can do nothing for such dire wounds. Why did you travel into that forest?"

The question was more direct; the unicorn fixed his gaze on Ethan and held, waiting.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan's enthusiasm visually waned at the direct question, and he sunk a bit deeper into the water.

The rather vivid mental image of his brother tearing a limb from a hapless soquili that dared to wander into his territory flashed through his mind. Ethan only knew for certain of one soquili that lived in those cursed woods. Had Diogenes been the one responsible? Maybe his father? What monstrous lineage had he been born from? WHY had he gone looking for it when many who he encountered on his journey had warned him against it.

Finally, he sighed. He was almost certain that the unicorn would regret knitting his wounds, but he had to give voice to his regrets, lest they ricochet around in his mind and never give him peace.

"I... Ah know it's stupid... and how dangerous it was now... but I was lookin' for mah father."

Sosiqui

The unicorn merely gave Ethan an indifferent look. "Of such foolish quests are great tales - and tragedies - born. You have paid the price for that folly. My name is Ballestra. Sunil and I-" he jerked his head upwards, indicating the white hawk wheeling above them "-watch the edges of this land."

He eyed the bruises and scabs remaining on Ethan's skin. "And did you find him, then?"

"No, of course not," Cricket snapped, surprising herself. "A father wouldn't do... wouldn't..." But a brother would, apparently? The mare fell silent again, unable to properly articulate the tangle of emotions and exhaustion inside her.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan exhaled a sigh of relief as a swift judgment didn't come crashing down on him for admitting that he was looking for a relative in the foreboding woods.

"I s'pose so." Ethan murmured as he slowly and gingerly began to put weight back on his hooves. His muscles still ached with fatigue, but the bruises and lacerations had healed a remarkable amount. He gave the unicorn another appreaciative smile. He was so confident, verbose...

"It's nice t' meet ya, Ballestra..." He craned his neck up, regarding the hawk that he had once mistaken for a vulture. "'an Sunil. And... thank you again." He shook his head. "I shouldn't a gone lookin' for him, I Guess. Maybe I'm lucky I didn't find him." He cast a side-glance to Cricket.

Right now, Ethan wasn't sure what his real father would or wouldn't have done if he had found him.

Sosiqui

"Perhaps so," Ballestra agreed, his tone still reserved, non-committal. "I assume you weren't looking to be so injured. I assume the horns are from his side of the family?"

"Ethan... he isn't like that," Cricket blurted, shaking her head so rapidly that she had to stop after only a few seconds, a wave of dizziness nearly overtaking her. "He protected me-"

"Calm yourself," Ballestra said, giving her a pointed look.

Cricket heaved a long sigh, her head drooping.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan shook his own head quickly at Cricket's outburst.

"No. He's right." Ethan murmured, walking out of the pond and shaking out his mane, ending with a flick of his skinny tail.

"Yeah... yeah they are. And I shouldn't 'a had to protect you, Cricket. It was my fault we were there. My stubbornness... I.. I didn't want ta believe that my sire could be like that... but... if my brother... another halfbreed..." He shook his head. "I'm glad we didn't find him."

Sosiqui

"I agreed to go!" Cricket insisted, her sides heaving. "It's not your fault - he's just a... a jerk, that's all! A stupid stupid jerk!"

"You will make yourself ill if you continue with these hysterics," the unicorn put in, calm as ever.

"Shut up," Cricket snapped. "Shut up!" But there were flecks of foam at the corners of her mouth.

Sabin Duvert

"I still shouldn't a put you in harm's way." Ethan wheedled, looking more concerned now at the fervor that Cricket was working her way into. Over him?

He stepped towards her, ignoring the unicorn for the moment, and gently nosed the side of her neck. "Cricket... I'm sorry. At least we're outta there with our lives." He glanced back to Ballestra. "And luck finally lookin' our way, maybe."

There was a tone of regret still in his voice, though. Despite defending him, Cricket was distressed, and she had every right to be. What if Diogenes HADN'T stopped his assault after Ethan backed down? What if he had hurt her... or worse?


... his own brother...

Sosiqui

Ballestra surged forward out of the stream, making waves that slapped against Ethan's sides. "You will do yourself damage, filly - calm yourself." He placed his horn against her forehead before she could react.

"What-" Cricket began, startled, the whites of her eyes showing at the edges -then her eyes unfocused, and she drooped again, this time laying down heavily on the grass as her skin broke contact with the unicorn's horn.

"There are more hurts than those visible on the skin," Ballestra said, firmly.

Sabin Duvert

Upon seeing the unicorn touch Cricket and her immediately fall to the ground unconscious, Ethan panicked. He wasn't familiar with the range of abilities a unicorn possessed, or even necessarily his intent. What if the soft-spoken stallion had lured them into a false sense of security? Ethan didn't pause to think that that was uncharacteristic of a stallion that had just healed his wounds. Instinct and fear just took a forefront when he saw Cricket flop heavily down onto the ground.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" Ethan demanded, accusatorily to Ballestra.

Sosiqui

Ballestra frowned at Ethan. "Calm yourself, or you may re-open those wounds of yours," he said, with a faint edge to his voice. "She is exhausted and hurt. Would you rather I healed only what injuries are visible and left those within to fester?"

"M'fine," Cricket mumbled, letting out a long sigh that rustled the grass in front of her. "Tired."

Sabin Duvert

Ethan was heaving fast, nervous breaths, his posture tensed as he watched Ballestra warily. Only when Cricket murmured a tired reassurance did Ethan take a step backward. However, he kept a skeptical expression on his face.

At least she hadn't been physically injured... but was it really possible for the unicorn to be able to ease her mind with a touch as easily as he had tended to Ethan's wounds and scrapes? Maybe rest was what she needed after the intense confrontation...

An ear flicked back as Ethan doubted himself and he returned his eyes to Ballestra. His tail swished back and forth a few times. "I dunno what t' do now." Ethan breathed. "All this lookin' was for nothin'. It only served to get us both hurt. In an' out."

Sosiqui

"Did you gain nothing in your journey, then?" Ballestra said, voice still unreadable as he lowered his head down to touch his horn to Cricket's forehead. "A shame."

Cricket's sides shuddered, but she closed her eyes at the horn's touch. She was silent for a moment, only the sound of her breath issuing from her mouth, before opening her eyes again. "S'not true," she said, her voice stronger. "Wasn't for nothing. Got to know you. Ethan..."

Sabin Duvert

Ethan was quiet for a long period of time as Ballestra's words echoed in his head.

His life had certainly changed since he left home. It felt like a lifetime ago the last time he had seen his mother. Cricket had become a constant, familiar face and presence. He had seen so much of the world, created so many memories. And while perhaps the reason he had left home was now moot... he had learned so much.

"I... well. I dunno about that." He conceded.

He smiled, the first honest smile for some time when Cricket spoke. He felt his cheeks warm as his tail wrapped around his hind leg. "Tha's true... I did meet Cricket... an; saw so much of the world. An' met a lot of others. Not all of 'em nice... but... I guess that's part 'o it all." He swallowed.
He looked towards the woods, the branches of the trees like crawling hands, grasping each other and stretching out with mock invitation. "I should'a never brought you in there, Cricket... 'M sorry."

He looked back to Ballestra, calmer now, especially that Cricket seemed to be doing better. "Thank you. I dunno what we would'a done if you hadn't come along."

Sosiqui

Cricket scowled; it seemed she was getting some of her spark back as the unicorn's healing did its work. "Like I would've let you go in there alone," she sighed. "Anyway, you - we stood up to him. He was just a... a jerk, that's all!"

"Shh - don't move your head so much just yet," Ballestra admonished. His head still down, he glanced at Ethan. "You are welcome. I'm glad my friend found you." As if on cue, the hawk screeled overhead, white wings flashing against the sky.

Sabin Duvert

Ethan drew closer to Cricket, relieved to see some of her characteristic spark returning. He didn't know what he'd do if she had lost that because of him.

"A jerk." Ethan echoed, though not quite sounding convinced. They were lucky that he had let them go. And that jerk was his brother. The same Kalona's blood ran through his veins.

"Thanks for going with me, Cricket... I just wish ya hadn't had to see that."

He nodded to the unicorn. "Is... there anything I can do...? To thank you for helpin' us?"

Sosiqui

"It's okay. Just don't... don't tell Maharet if we see her again. Scare her to death." Cricket grinned weakly.

"There, now." Ballestra nodded to himself, then straightened, his horn going dull; he was ever so slightly unsteady on his feet, though none of that showed in his voice. "You'l need to rest for a few days. As will I," he added, tilting his head up to the sky. The white hawk fluttered down to land on his back, talons expertly curling to avoid puncturing the unicorn's hide. "Sunil says that it is safe, for now. It is rare that danger emerges from the forest, but he will keep watch just in case."

He cocked his head at Ethan's question, then smiled thinly. "Be more careful, next time."

Sabin Duvert

"O'Course not." Ethan winced, remembering the skittish mare. And then, he actually chuckled.

She had a way of cheering him up.

He drew a long, shaking breath, some of that bundled, corded tension unraveling just a bit. He was going to be okay. Physically at the very least. And so was Cricket. She wasn't going to leave him despite it all.

Ethan nodded to Ballestra. Resting for a few days sounded wonderful to the young stallion right now.

"An... I'll try." He smile-winced again. "I promise I'm not headed back in those woods again." He hoped that he was right. He hoped that whatever other horrors that lived in there would stay there. What he did know was that those woods were no home for him. Despite his horns, despite the blood that ran in his veins, that was no home for him.

Muscles stsill aching, a twitch in his withers, he slowly bent his knees and lay down besides cricket with a long sigh.

Sosiqui

Silently, Cricket shifted her weight to lean against him - not hard, but enough for that reassuring side-to-side contact. "G'night," she mumbled, rubbing her cheek against his for a moment before her eyes drifted closed.

((Shall we call that a wrap? n_n))

 

[Sabin Duvert]

Like Father Like Son
RP with Ethan and Fianna and Dae'Ruil

Ethan had wandered a ways from the forest to try to clear his head, dizzyingly full of information and indecisions. Everything he had been living for up to this moment had been so clear before. Certainly, his path had not been without hardship, but no adventure was. He had traveled for so long - with his purpose always laid out before him, keeping him going. He had never stopped to question his motivation. And with Cricket by his side, what would have been a lonely journey was instead a grand adventure.

But meeting Diogenes, no, his brother had shaken the resolution from Ethan. WHY was he looking for his sire? What did he expect to learn?

No, Ethan knew exactly what he was hoping to find - a purpose, an explanation for what he was supposed to do with his life, and who he was. Even before he knew there was something wrong with him, he knew he didn't just want to live in a secluded meadow with his mother. And so the answer had seemed natural - to find his sire. See the sort of life he had lived, and see what this mysterious figure had contributed to who he was.

And after hearing the stories, and seeing the fear in the eyes of others when they saw his long horns or twisted leg, he sought to find that his father was not as bad as the stories. To validate and redeem himself by finding his father. Proving them wrong. That he wasn't some demon, but more... well, like him.

Diogenes had ruined that illusion. He had treaded upon it and done far more damage to this ideal in Ethan's head than he had done to Ethan's body with the blows of his hooves. And he had proven even beyond the dark stallion's own presence and embrace of his demonic side that that same demonic blood ran through Ethan's veins when he saw the destruction he could wreak when he fought back against him.

So... what now? Ethan felt lost. He knew, he knew as surely as he knew the sky was blue that his father was every bit the evil Kalona that everyone talked about. Redemption did not lay in finding this mysterious figure. And that epiphany shattered Ethan's world.

What then, what was he supposed to do? What was his purpose here? If his purpose wasn't to uncover his past...


A tan and green figure swam through the skies with all of the enthusiasm that had once resided in the slender stallion below. Her flight was more of a dance with the wind than the banal travel that the birds called flight.

She was close - she could taste it. She had heard that these lands were homes to all manner of strange soquili - ones with horns like she had described. One even seemed to recall a horned, tan stallion that had passed this way not too long ago. She was alive with expectation.


Not far behind her, another figure flew, struggling to match the pace of the adept windrider.
But Dae'Ruil did not complain. To him, it was worth the fire in his lungs and the burn in his muscles as he raced to keep up with a soquili that seemed like she was born to the air. She was filled with so much life that even being around her gave him a greater appreciation of the world around him. Her happiness and devil-may-care attitude was infectious.

Even though this was her quest, he was satisfied living vicariously through her. She breathed a life into him that he had longed to taste living in pampered neglegance back home.


Fianna nearly fell from the skies as she spotted down below a solitary shape - a soquili with natural coloration, laying near a wide lake. She wheeled around, trying to get a closer look. When her sharp eyes caught the curve of horns over his back, her breath caught in her chest. Did she dare to hope? She dove for the earth with a practiced control, slowing her fall at the last minute to land adeptly on the green field.

At first, Ethan thought he was dreaming. The daring plummet and dainty landing of the mare before him reminded him so much of one night early into his journey that he thought he might have fallen asleep and gone back to that night. But no, the sun was still high in the skies, and everything seemed much too real to be a dream.

His brows furrowed, and he found his footing, tial lashing behind him nervously as he approached the slender mare. "Hunter..." He began to ask incredulously. Had she followed him here?

But then, the vision resolved itself.

This was not Hunter, despite how much it looked like her. Her fur was lighter, and peppered with subtle ticking. And behind her, a thin tail lashed...

Ethan felt his throat tie itself in a knot.


At first, all Fianna could do was stare at the stallion before her. He was almost just like her mother had described, and yet, not at all what she had expected. In her mind, Ethan was a dashing, suave, behorned stallion, powerful and confident. A lothario, perhaps, or touched with an element of danger.

But while the wide-eyed young stallion before her, he possessed the backward-curving horns like her sisters, her own long, furless tail, and ticked coat looked small and scared. Surely... this couldn't be her father...? But inside, Fianna knew it was.

And when he called her by her mother's name, there was no denying it.

She shook her head, lips pressed tightly together. "No. My name is not Hunter. My name is Fianna." She held the next words for a few moments, not sure if she wanted to utter them. "My mother's name is Hunter."


Dae'Ruil had spotted Fianna make a too-quick turnabout and head for the ground. He was nowhere near as maneuverable in the air, and he made a gradual arc in the skies. By the time he had flown around, he saw her down below, speaking with another soquili.

Dae'Ruil did a double-take. He had heard her go on in their travels about what her mother had told her about her father - the soquili she was searching to find. A soquili that seemed to meet the description of the one below them.

He knew a private moment when he saw it, and began a slow descent a distance from the pair, silently wishing her the best.


It took a few moments for Ethan's mind to process what she was telling him. Hunter was her mother... her features were hauntingly familiar... That moonlit night and a moment of passion.

Ethan's eyes widened more and he shook his head.

But it wasn't possible. He hadn't meant to... It had just been one encounter... but no. The evidence stood before him on four dainty hooves.

"Your mother..." He echoed mechanically.

"That makes you.... you..."


"Your daughter." Fianna finished for him, more resolutely than she felt.
She felt irritation begin to boil within her. "You didn't know?!" She pressed.


"Know?" Ethan asked incredulously, taking a few tentative steps towards her. "No... I never thought..."

He stopped, starting again. "Fianna?" He weighed the words in his mouth, eyes softening as strange, conflicting feelings welled up inside. "You... you've been lookin' for me?" The irony suddenly hit him with all of the weight of a fallen tree.
He had a daughter he had left alone to grow up sireless. He didn't even know she existed. And here she was, looking for HIM. Her absent father. Probably looking for an explanation... a reason... that he couldn't give her.

It was just a night. An amazing night, but the thought had never even OCCURRED to him that new life might spring from it.


Fianna shook her head, the irritation not lessening with his flabbergasted reaction.

"Yes. Yes, father. I have been." She drew a tremulous breath, looking him over, searing the image into her mind. This was what she had been looking for for so long. Since she had the strength and confidence to leave her home behind.

"Why..." she stopped, shook her head again. He didn't know? He didn't know? How could he not know? She was just... some accident?

"I THOUGHT you could tell me why. Tell me who you were, who I am because of it. Why you left mother... Why you weren't there for me and my sisters..."



"Sisters?" Ethan repeated, a few octavies higher.

"I... I.." He closed the distance between them. "Fianna... wow.. I... I'm sorry. I know... I know how you feel.." His ears drooped, his face scrunching into a wince.


"Know how I feel?!" Now Fianna's voice rose, but in anger. "How can you begin to know what I feel?! Deirdre was right! You abandoned us! It's WORSE than not caring - you didn't even KNOW! How... how.... STUPID!"


"I know because the same thing happened to me!" Ethan countered in protest. "I... I've been looking... for my own sire." She was right. He felt stupid. It sounded stupid. He had done the exact same thing that had been done to him - completing some sad chain of events.


Fianna's eyes narrowed as she shook her head again. "YOU? You grew up a b*****d? You made ME when you were looking for your own sire? You never stopped to think that you might be doing the same bloody thing?" She wouldn't cry... she wouldn't cry. Not in front of him.

It was ridiculous. It was meaningless.

And the fact that the soquili she thought would have answers was just looking for answers himself. She snorted, ears pinning back as she scuffed the ground with a hoof.


"'m sorry.." Ethan began weakly.

He swallowed, trying to think of something, anything he could tell her. "I... I haven't found him yet. You've done me one better already in that." He said with a wince. "But I can tell you that I think I've found that I don't want to. He's... not a good stallion... you grandsire..."


"Wonderful." Fianna spat. "Neither are you." She countered venomously.


And her words hit home. Even if they were not what she meant, she brought to his mind his all-too-recent encounter. He swallowed the poison down. He deserved that.

"But your granddam.." He began again, with an honest smile. "She's a wonderful mare. Kind-hearted. Brave. Smart. And with amazin' stories.." Ethan remembered Rosemary. It had been so long since he had seen her. She was a wonderful mother. And something that he realized, he had taken for granted on this trip.


Fianna didn't say anything. The scowl stayed on her face, but she glanced back at him, listening.


"Rosemary came from across the ocean... an she had a lot she could teach." He paused, looking at her again. She reminded him of her. The spirit... The flecked fur on a mare... "I bet she would have loved to meet you."


"mm." Fianna responded impassionately. This wasn't what she wanted to hear right now. She was upset. This wasn't how this scene had played out in her mind a thousand times over.

Her father wasn't too busy with some important quest to have stayed home. He wasn't some great, amazing stallion. He was just like her. Lost.


"Fianna.." Ethan tried to smile. This was his daughter... his family! "Let me make this up to you. Let's get to know each other..."

He breathed, drawing back that confidence. "'M sorry I wasn't there... but I'm here now..."


"You tell that to my mother... and to my sisters!" She spat. She wasn't ready for this - not now. She had to get out of here. She had to clear her head, to not think, and just fly.

She spread her wings, and kicked off of the ground with the force of all of her anger, flapping angrilly into the expanse of sky above her.


Dae'Ruil watched in surprise as Fianna took off like a soquili that had been stung by a bee. Where was she going? she looked upset! What about him?

He swallowed, taking to wing to fly after her, but unlike their travels together, Dae'Ruil realized suddenly that she was not holding back her speed this time. She was already almost out of sight by the time Dae'Ruil reached the proper elevation, and her retreating figure was growing smaller by the second.

He began after her, but knew that at this rate... he wasn't going to catch up.


Ethan watched dumbfounded as she flew off in a tantrum. Just like that, she was gone. And yet, in the brief encounter, she had managed to shake up Ethan's world.

He had sired foals. And they were grown. He had missed all of that - just like his own sire.

And more likely than not, he realized with a finality, his father knew and cared just as little about him as he did about them. He would find no real answers in that part of his past. The digging into that side of him had only shown him the darkness in his bloodline and within himself. But that wasn't the only side to him. His mother had raised him, and his mother was good. And without knowing anything of his father, Ethan had been a gentle stallion. His life... was what he made of it. And his lineage was just that - a past that gave him a start in life. But beyond that... he had to define it. Not his father.

He couldn't offer any epiphany to Fianna... just as the elusive Dyson Graves was unlikely to tell him anything about himself that he didn't know and also wanted to be. If he followed that path, he was following further into darkness. And that's not the soquili he wanted to be.

He whet his lips, thinking about her parting words. They had been intended to be words of wounding... but she was absolutely right.

Ethan flicked his tail resolutely. He would make his own path towards the rest of his life. And the first step of that was to right his own wrongs. He owed Hunter an apology, and to meet his ... daughters.

Ethan laughed to himself. Fianna had come to him looking for answers to her life. But instead, she had answered his.
 

[Sabin Duvert]

Longing, Attention, and Regret
RP with Fianna, reflection in an encounter with Einar

Fianna screamed in aggravation as she tore another divet out of the grass.

Her life seemed to be jumping from predicament to predicament, and it was all her fault. Why had she gone on such a stupid, stupid venture - looking for a stallion - her father that only ended in disappointment. He was like a foal - not THAT much older than she was, and just as lost and STUPID as she was.

She was so ANGRY - at him, at herself, at everyone. She just had to fly far away from everything that reminded her of the situation.


And where had she would up, but right into him.

He had been everything she had dreamed that her father would be like. Debonaire, handsome, and confident. He was a wanderer, too - but one with more of a purpose than to learn about himself. He was learning of the world, learning stories, learning about other soquili. He was so... knowledgable....

He had proud horns on his head, accessories that conjured up images of the exotic places he had visited... and a comforting smile.

Einar.

Why couldn't he have been her father? Someone to look up to? Someone to teach her facts about life and the world. Someone to give her life some meaning.

He had listened to her story, to her anger. And he seemed to know exactly the right things to say. He told her a story about a lost bird that seemed to put things in perspective... at least in the cool moonlight by his side.

And then... one thing had led to another.

And he very much was not her father. But he was what she had needed... what she had wanted in her life. He gave her attention... he gave her love. He was strong... sure of himself...

And now... the next morning, with the revealing light of the sun and the stallion had moved on... and she felt so very alone.

And all she could think about was Dae'Ruil.

She huffed a sob.

She had run away from him too in her anger. And now the spirits knew where he was. He had traveled with her so long through thick and thin. And now... had she lost him too?

Fianna flopped down, feeling utterly sorry for herself.  

[Sabin Duvert]

Trekking Down a Familiar Path
RP Firestorm, Shinoma

RP located HERE
Firestorm and Shinoma... expecting foals of their own!l

 

[Sabin Duvert]

A Summoning
RP with Warlock and Disnia.

Warlock stepped carefully but with a deliberate pace as he picked his way through the dense shrubland at the edge of the woods. The light of the day was fading, but it did not bother him. The indigo glow around his hooves and his sharp eyes pierced the shadowy darkness. This was the time that Warlock felt most in his element. The day was dying, giving way to the cool embrace of the night. The night - that set most soquili's hair on edge as it spoke of the unknown, the time when dangerous predators stalked. They would group together into herds for safety from this all-surrounding darkness that could hide a threat.

It was a neverending cycle - the safety the day provided was temporary, illusory. For it would always give way to the darkness. It was almost a pity that others were too simple-minded to see the comparisons that this daily cycle had to life itelf. The danger that was ever-present. That the innoculous, the safe, in just a space of time, could become frightening, unknown, and dangerous.

Just like him, Warlock thought to himself as he walked.

Oh, what would they think if only they could see him now... To see the strength that the darkness could give if one had the nerve and the intelligence to seize it. They would hardly recognize the once skinny, weak foal...

However, Warlock was shaken from his reverie when he heard a nervous voice, crying out from the darkness. It was a male, but many hard years left its mark even on this stallion's voice. It shook as it called out a nervous "Hello? Is someone there...? Please! Help me!"

Warlock flicked an ear back and licked his lips. Perhaps Kalona was once more smiling down on him.

Purposefully, Warlock strode towards the voice.

It did not take him long to find its souce.

A stallion, but one who was many seasons past his prime. He stood, withers quivering in a tight grove, casting his head back and forth. As Warlock took another step, a dry twin betraying his location, the stallion turned quickly towards him, and the source of his distress was immediately obvious.

A large gash marred the stallion's face, right over his eyes. It bled profusely, and even if the eyes were undamanged, the blood was effectively blinding him.

The stallion's ears canted backwards as his nostrils flared. "Please, if there is someone there... help me!"

Warlock felt a delighted smile cross his face as he stepped forward. "Be not afriad, grandfather." He said with a deceptively kindly tone to his voice.

"Oh thank the spirits." The stallion breathed taking a faltering step towards the voice. "I thought that I would be a meal for the coyotes. In the dim light, I ran into a thorny vine."

"What a tragedy." Warlock lamented with a false sincerity. "And in these woods. I have heard that dangerous predator lurk here after dark."

"Please, kindly stranger." The soquili spoke gently. "Could you be the eyes for this poor old stallion? My mate is waiting for me and is probably worried sick. We live just past the hills to the West, in the small two-leg settlement. The shamans there should be able to attend to my injuries."

It was... delicious. The trust that this blinded stallion had for him. "Of course, grandfather. Allow me to lead you back home." He turned, flicking his tail towards the stallion. "take my tail in you mouth, and I shall lead you.

"May the spirits bless you." The stallion smiled. "My mate and foals will be certain to thank you upon our safe return!"

Warlock led the blind stallion, but not towards the West and Safety. But instead, towards a cluster of rocks that he had passed not far back. It would be... ideal.

He could almost feel Kalona's eyes upon him as he walked. The stallion was so trusting, he could almost smell the kind-nature, the stupidity. He didn't have an evil bone in his body.

It was a test. To test his resolve, his dedication.

He had the nerve. He was worthy. Worthy of his attention and his blessings.

He saw the shapes looming ahead and felt his pulse quicken. It was time.

"We are almost there, Grandfather." Warlock said with a wicked smile.

"That is strange, son... I do not smell my family... I do not hear the songs of the two-leggers.." For the first time, there was worry in his voice.

But it did not last long. with a decisive strike, Warlock kicked back with his hindlegs, catching the old stallion square in the jaw with a sharp, cloven hoof.
He spun quickly, rearing and bringing the knife-like spines down into his neck.

It was fast, the old stallion collapsed against one of the standing stone. And then, Warlock steadied his breathing, slipping into a comfortable, ritualized pattern.

He approached the stallion - making a gurgling wheasing sound - murmuring the blessings to Kalona. He paused just a moment, savoring the moment before the kill, wondering if Kalona would hear him. Wondering if he would be rewarded.

And then, he struck, tearing open the chest of the still-breathing stallion and removing the heart.

"For you, Kalona." He exalted, "Take the life and energy of this pure-hearted stallion. Fill me with your power!"

He followed the ritual precisely, without hesitance. And then, as he finished, he stepped back, breath caught in his throat. Waiting. Hoping.

And then, a flash of greenish light!

Warlock turned quickly, hope and curiousity flaring in his chest.



And then, a sinuous figure stepped from the dying glow. Luminous blue eyes with slitted pupils met his, and a smirking, wide smile.

"Well well well..." The voice purred. "This is going to be fuuun."


He could see her clearly now - from her finely cloven hoof to her scaled wings and curved horns. A kalona mare, and the most striking one Warlock had ever seen.
She was small, and slender, but her posture and gait conveyed both confidence as well as a .. dangerous beauty.

He watched as she bent down, purposefully and delicately, and snapped up the remains of the heart, swallowing it with a look of pure, sublime delight.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Warlock breathed.


"Why am I?" She laughed, a delightful chime. "Why, don't you know, Warlock? It was you who summoned me!" Her tail flicked from side to side.


"Summoned you?" Warlock responded with a skeptical note in his voice. "I gave a sacrifice to the great Kalona. For recognition! For Power!"


"And you caught his attention." She crooned. "He is... impressed, Warlock. So impressed... that he has given you ... me." She sidled up to his side, her breath on his ear.


Warlock hesitated. He had gotten HIS attention to such a degree? Was it possible?
He had never... had an ally before. It was a strange concept. And yet... as his eyes roaved over the body of the slender mare... it was not an unwelcome concept.

"What is your name, demon?" He demanded with a smile.


"My name, Master?" She whispered with an intensity in her blue eyes. She could see his approval at the term. "Disnia. It is HIS will that I aide you to further his glory."


"Disnia," he repeated, with a wider smile. "I believe that you will be of great use to me."


"I look forward to it, Master." Disnia repeated with a delighted smile.

Indeed, she looked forward to being on this plane - reveling in the delights that would await her - await them.

She would keep a close eye on Warlock... as she was instructed. He wasn't what she had expected. He was handsome, confident... and she could SMELL the potential and the powerlust that dwelt within him. She had been told that he was 'worth watching' - his ambition had been noted. And that only time would tell of those were dangerous or useful.

Or perhaps... something entirely different.

Disnia smiled again as she sidled up to her side, licking her lips. Regardless, she was certain that this would be a lot of fun.  

[Sabin Duvert]

(Another) Wind of Change
RP with Balrog & Stormfall


RP Located Here