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 Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 6:29 pm
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 7:08 pm
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In thread RP (May 11th)
Pumpkin Tart
What the hell was her problem? Why was it, when there was nothing at all to be afraid of, that she couldn't quite bring herself to socialize with others? Was it that she feared them, and what they would think, or was it more that she simply did not enjoy their company? She had yet to truly hold an entertaining conversation. Pumpkin Tart had just a tinsy bit of trouble maintaining her focus on any one thing for more than a couple of minutes. Frustrated, irritated by her own contrariness, she dredged her way over to the central gathering place for the Soquili. It seemed that most of the herds tended to gravitate towards a particular field, a sort of clearing among the trees, and so she walked in that direction.
Agisdi She'd for once skipped away from her sister for a bit to explore on her own. The idea of leaving her sibling alone didn't please her so much but some times a girl just needed to get out on her own and see things. At least that's what she thought the nasty Green Lady had said. Something like that.
Whatever it was she was getting away from her and the now completely cranky Lady. Those two were just out to get her and her sister for no reason.
Desdemona
There's nothing to fear but fear itself, as the saying goes. Or is there? With the scent of a skinwalker on the air, most Soquili foolish enough to believe the old adage would not long survive her actual presence. And so Desdemona stalked just beyond the shadows of the trees, observing a lone mare with gleaming hellborn eyes. A wicked smile curved her lips as she neared the brightly colored creature, and she contemplated just how to make the pitiful thing suffer most. There was nothing that she enjoyed more than chaos, and pain... mostly the pain of others. It was unlikely that she enjoyed pain herself, personally, but inflicting it? Well, that was another thing entirely. She stalked just outside of the wandering Soquili's field of vision, amusement building as the female began to scent her approach. But ah! She smelled another scent on the wind. Wonderful. An abundance of entertainment- or was it prey?- was always welcome.
Pumpkin Tart
Pumpkin Tart was beginning to grow nervous again, her nostrils flared at the faint scent of a predator. Edgily, the mare moved towards the scent that did not scream of blood, death, and destruction, the scent of another, less violet Soquili. Agisdi, though she did not yet know it. The two had never met, and her scent was just as unfamiliar as the Skinwalker's. However, it was nothing near as threatening. Reining in her fear, she scoped the area for escape routes, and keep her sounds to an absolute minimum, just in case the beast had not yet sighted her. For now, silence was best, and she had no problem with being quiet. It was, after all, pretty much what she did every day.
Agisdi The poor black mare didn't recognize danger for what it was. Her mind twisted without the care of parents of her own kind she had lost out on many skills that would aid most in keeping themselves out of trouble. There was a funny scent on the air, something that tickled the back of her mind, but she paid no attention to it. Probably just something new that she hadn't seen before!
Ears swiveling slightly she noticed an orange rump. "Oh!" Squeaking slightly she trotted toward the other. She was another one like her and not like the two leggers she called her parents. Maybe she'd be nicer than the ones at home.
Draven Something had brought him out to the plains... Something that he couldn't explain. He had been content protecting Nostalgia and her children from the nightmares that lurked around; Nostalgia's former mate included. The world was not safe. He knew that... But did others? He tilted his head towards the wind, nose wrinkling as he caught a distasteful sent. He snorted, stomping at the ground before taking off towards it. He could almost feel electricity in the air around him. Had the two-leggers called for storms again?
Miss Cherie
"Be careful. There's something dangerous out there. I can smell it." Strangely, Pumpkin Tart felt rather protective towards the other mare. How unusual. She didn't tend to respond so well around others, but, well... there was devilry afoot. And that squeak had sounded just a bit more innocent than one might expect from a full grown mare. That indicated that the other might be younger, and if so, it was her duty to protect her.
A rich, wicked laugh broke up the silence, and Desdemona came into view. "Right you are, little cat rump. Tell me, is this a good night for those like yourselves to be wandering so far?" Her comment, of course, had been directed at the mare who sported a strange cat and moon design on her withers. However, her question was more general. It could have been for either of them. Grinning, she allow the tips of her wickedly sharp teeth to be seen. Every now and again, she put on a show and pretended to be an uncursed Soquili. Tonight, apparently, was not one of those times.
Drawing herself up with what she considered to be bravery, the orange mare turned to face the Skinwalker. The fact that she could not conceal her own fear was irrelevant. "This is a public place. It is not far from the herds." She trembled slightly when her remark was met with another harsh laugh, and strove to keep herself together. Oh, hell. This is not going to be good, she thought to herself, internally wincing as Desdemona took a handful of steps forward.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 7:09 pm
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(Continued)
Korofi It didn't take long for Korofi to get in on the party.
The young stallion was currently in his darker personality, ever unpredictable. He moved slowly, each step soft and careful, so as not to alert anyone to his presence. The anonymity may or may not be needed, but he was cautious.
Finally he stopped, his body hidden by the foliage surrounding him. A break in the bushes allowed him to gaze out at the others, giving him the chance to calculate his next move. He had learned that planning was crucial, and with so many other soquili around, he did not want to mess up.
His breath was baited and his heart skipped a beat as the Skinwalker came into sight. It was a first for him, meeting such a creature. Each move he made suddenly tripled in importance. Koro was vain; he did not much respect those of his own race. He wanted nothing more than to be a Kalona or a Skinwalker, but that was an impossible goal. What was possible was power, and to gain power, you had to earn respect.
A smirk crossed his lips. Oh, yes, he had to impress this Skinwalker.
Agisdi "There's what a wh... ohh!! She's fuzzy!" Giggling the mare leaned over the orange one and looked at the soquili covered in the fur of something else. "Did you do that yourself? Or did a two legger make you a blanket to keep you warm?"
If having something like that kept you warm maybe she'd see if she could somehow convince the two leggers to make her one. It did still get nippy at night and the small blankets she and her sister had now weren't nearly enough.
Miss Cherie
I am going to die. She is going to kill us both. Moving slowly, Pumpkin Tart moved her head so that it was near the younger mare's, and whispered,"That is the dangerous something. And... that pelt is not something to joke about. She's... a Skinwalker." She could scarcely keep from stuttering as she spoke, trying very hard to keep the situation within manageable bounds. Maybe someone would find them before the creature killed them. Maybe. Oh god help me.
"You want a pelt like mine, hmm?" Desdemona seemed entirely amused by that prospect. "There's only one way to get one, you know..." As though it was some great secret, something that such a mare would want to know. Gossip, even. She waited until the orange mare's fear had risen just a hair more to drop a few more words into the silence. "Only a Skinwalker such as myself can wear one like I do. You'd have to be cursed." She seemed to relish the idea of an innocent being turned into a being of great evil. It delighted her. Amused her. Titillated her.
"You don't want to be cursed. Skinwalkers... are evil." She spoke in a hushed voice, and this time she couldn't keep it from shaking. The idea was ludicrous. No doubt the filly wouldn't have been able to handle the change. She might go mad from it. Any number of horrible, awful things might happen if that were to occur. She prayed that none of them would, and that somehow, something would keep the Skinwalker from tearing them limb from limb.
Ariston For once in his life, Ariston was thankful for something. He was thankful Heartless was away with the baskets, VERY far away. It seemed a demon that he knew too well was roaming around, and her motives were bloodthirsty and cruel. He could smell her vicious scent, and knew right away that she was up to something. His fear was her, she put him through a psycological meltdown, and for some reason she let him survive. He still didn't understand why, though in a strange way he would get curious on the lamest of evenings. He wished he didn't pick up the scent, and freely went a different direction, but her cruel scent brought him closer to where the Soquili met.
He was in the air currently, safe from her footed ground. But to his suprise, he looked to see a gathering, though it was not a pleasant one. Observing from a cliff, he watched Desdemona, only keeping his eye on her and no one else. The fear inside him was revolting, and he could do nothing but hide and watch the scene for now.
Draven He saw the mares standing close to one another... The one he had seen before, if only from a distance. She was always in the company of another petite mare... Relations, perhaps? The danger he knew; not by name, of course, but by reputation of the hide she wore dangling over her body. He reared up, a loud neigh drawing attention to himself as his hooves beat at the sky. Upon dropping down he moved closer to the mares, putting himself between them and the skinwalker. "No one who walked on two legs made that. It isn't a blanket. Stay on your guard." His eyes were on the pelt-clad mare as he spoke, hoping the mare would heed his words.
Korofi A tremor ran down his spine as she spoke. So it was true. It was a curse. He had heard stories of the Skinwalkers, as most soquili had, but had never known just what they were. It was intriguing, enticing, and his heart sped up.
Now or never, he thought, stepping into the clearing with them.
His pale blue eyes swept over the two mares the Skinwalker was speaking too. Typical soquili... normal, bland. Boring. Like him. Koro narrowed his eyes, annoyed as reality hit again. Damn the body he was born in, damn his race, and damn his family for cursing him to a life of mediocrity.
He snorted a greeting, albeit not a very friendly one. It was obvious that he was intruding on something, but at that moment, he didn't care. The stallion was too busy thinking about his own "plight".
Agisdi She couldn't have one? What kind of nonsense was that? "That's not fair!" She whinned slightly as she looked between the orange mare and now the black stallion that had joined them. "I want one!" she stamped one hoof against the dirt. The concept of evil and cursed flew right over her head. All she knew was that she wanted to have a nice warm blanket like that and it wasn't nice that they were telling her no.
"The two leggers could make me one i bet. It's a ... a... fox? wolf? thing so they'd just have to kill it and make it fit me." She stuck her nose up as she spoke. It made perfect sense and she wouldn't need all this cursed nonsense and all that. She'd just have to talk the two leggers into it somehow.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 7:11 pm
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(Continued)
Dancer Dancer paced quietly along, nearly lost in his thoughts. Voices on the wind brought him to the present again, and the same breeze brought an unfamiliar scent to him. Soquili...but something darker, more akin to the kalona he hated yet not quite the same. It put him on alert and he felt a shiver of anticipation course down his coat. Following the wind, he found a group of soquili gathering. His ears pinned back as he saw the full group. Skinwalker. Now he knew what the evil was he had scented on the wind.
Miss Cherie
Pumpkin Tart could have kissed the earth when the pair of stallions arrived, particularly the former. He seemed to have the young mare's safety in mind, and that was good. The latter she didn't know about. The sound he'd made wasn't a friendly one... but then again, neither was the Skinwalker 'friendly'. Maybe he was directing it at her. And then the silly chit had burst out with another 'please, kill me now!' comment, and the fear returned in full force. That... was not good. Not good at all. But what could she say to discourage her from speaking? "Well, perhaps if you went back to your tepee, you might be able to get a two-legger to do that for you." Maybe that would work. Maybe.
Desdemona was having none of that. She grinned at the stallion, showing a mouth full of deadly canines, and teeth that were designed to tear flesh rather than vegetation (for all that she didn't tend to actually eat the flesh that she tore off). "It's coyote fur, and you might find it difficult to wear exactly as I do. You'd have to cut off your tail, and have a two-legger sew you a coyote tail on to even come close to wearing it the same way." Let the mare go and do something that foolish. Let her add to the fear and chaos already abounding. She wasn't feeling particularly threatened by either stallion... and tonight, she felt like sewing some doubt among the ranks of Soquili. It was so difficult to control the instincts that told her to destroy all in her path, when her goal was a similar (but different) type of destruction.
Ariston No blood had been shed yet? Ariston was confused, what was going on down there. Such a digusting curiousity, only Desdemona could grip that out of him. He dragged out his wings and landed in a spot next to them, and he landed as quietly as he could. He could hear them talking, and he noticed more stallions had arrived to the scene.
What the heck was going on?
Desdemona hadn't changed her movements, and in his selfish stumbling, he arrived in an opening in full view of all of the other Soquili. He didn't say anything, or change his expression. He just watched, though joined very behind her in the shadows.
Evil with Pride. He knew nothing of it, until Desdemona.
Korofi No matter how much he thought otherwise, Korofi was still young and foolish, and he was certainly not ready to command respect from his own race, let alone the more chaotic of races. He lifted his head boldly and spoke to the mares and stallion. "Idiots," he said, his voice strong. "Don't you know anything? This..." his gaze moved to Desdemona admiringly, "is a Skinwalker. And you're wasting her time? Blabbering on foolishly? Have you never heard the stories, the tales?" He stamped his hoof.
"To think, ordinary soquili speaking so brashly to one so much better than you."
Koro honestly did not realize the irony in what he was saying, didn't notice how much of a hypocrite he was. After all, he fancied himself better than these fools, even if there was little that seperated them.
Flower The small gathering wasn't too far from the daisy patch Flower had fallen asleep in. Thus far she was down wind and the breeze shifted. The dank, musty smell of a predator assaulted her nostrils and she opened her eyes with a start, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She didn't dare move lest this...this thing spots her. The young mare trembled from her head to her whithers. It was that sort of all consuming fear that phobias are borne of. She wished she could see what was going on. Slowly she peered above the line of the flowers, her ears laid flat against her skull in anticipation.
Wait a minute, this didn't make any sense. She was looking at two pairs of legs. One was hooven and the other had paws. Her eyes widened in shock, as her breath caught in her chest. 'A skinwalker.' She had heard of these damned beasts and the havoc they liked to wreak. Every muscle in her body was tense, and it was as if she were frozen in time, unable to move, speak, or think.
Dancer The sound of wings caught Dancer's attention. He nearly lashed out but held himself back when he saw the other land. Kalona! This was not good. "I know your type, both of you." he said, a warning rumble in his chest. "These are not the kind of soquili you want to be around at all, ladies. They bring nothing but pain and death in their wake." Turning to the young stallion, he snorted in disdain at the foolishness. "Better than us? Not likely. You, my young colt, have no idea who they are if you admire them that much!" Dancer knew all to well the truth of the evil they all faced.
Desdemona
It was simply too much. There was simply too much prey smell around Desdemona for her control to remain intact. With a wicked, seemingly lightning fast movement, the Skinwalker make a long rake with her teeth, catching Draven across the back. "Back away, little Soquili... if you wish to live." Her canines red with his blood, the feral female observed the others, taking note of the one who seemed to worship her... and another that she recognized. Ariston. What in the Nine Hells was he thinking, coming near her once more? Immediately, her attention was distracted by another voice, and then the tiniest Soquili she had yet seen. Interesting.
Draven "I agree, little one. If you go back to your teepee I'm sure that your two leggers will take fine care of you. As a matter of fact... I think it best you run now." He nodded as he backed towards the mares, still insistant on keeping himself between them. He turned to glare at the other stallion, pale eyes narrowing. "I believe we know well what it is. You are the one who seems to be foolish... She could devour you just as easily as she could any of us. Are you going to be bait?" It had been his mistake to turn his attention away from the Skinwalker. He knew that and he would pay for it. The moment her teeth came in contact with his back he bucked, kicking hindlegs at the creature that he refused to think of as a mare. If he paused to think of that he wouldn't harm her... And he had to keep the others safe.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 7:14 pm
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(Continued)
Korofi Koro whipped his head around, glaring at Dancer. "I know who they are," he said, angry at being called a colt. "Strength and power - they have more of it than we could ever dream of. You're a weak, pathetic fool to think otherwise."
When the pony arrived, he raised a brow but decided not to do anything. He had more important things to worry about than bullying a tiny mare. Right now he was focused on the stallion with the rainbow hair.
But then another stallion spoke, again implying that it was he that was wrong. Snorting, he lifted his chin defiantly. "Those worthy are rewarded," he said brazenly. "I'm not a snivelling coward like you, whining about the big bad Skinwalker. I may be stuck in a plain body, but I've got the heart of something greater, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to prove that."
Dancer "If need be!" Dancer let his anger show. "I know that I am better prepared to defend myself than some here are. It is my duty to protect those in need." His penance, his inner voice spoke up but he shoved that down. He stomped one dark leg in frustration. edit: "And stregnth and power are not everything, as you will learn if you live that long!" he snapped back at the young stallion.
Ariston "It seems you have a crowd, Desdemona." He smiled at her, and let his fangs out without being ashamed. So often he hide them, but there was no reason now, a Kalona was what it was. Still, he was many paces behind her, not having the courage to creep foward. He looked at the stallion that addressed his landing, and smiled rudely. "No, these are not the Soquili you want to be around." His grin curved into a more wicked shape.
Ariston looked at the paley colored stallion. He was so bent on such useless rantings. "A heart? That won't get you anywhere." He laughed, flicking his hair out of his face.
Desdemona
Desdemona reared, letting her side take some of the blow from the stallion, and then turned, swiping him once more with her wicked canines. "I said to leave, if you wish to live..." She'd almost gone for his throat. Almost. The only thing that had stopped her from doing so was the sound of Ariston's voice. Something that jogged her memory. "Really," she purred," I am being... merciful. The least you pack of fools could do is take me up on my... offer." She made sure that Draven saw her as she spoke, moving so that she was in full view. Let him see the thing that caused him pain. Her desire for blood shed was beginning to overwhelm her desire to cause havoc and disorder. Only time would tell which would win out.
That was enough for Pumpkin Tart. With a terrified squeak, she danced back, away from the four footed monster. She tried to nudge the younger mare, to encourage her to leave as well, but in that moment, she could not keep herself from fleeing. Taking off like the Devil himself was chasing her, she darted as far and as fast away as possible, breaking into a full gallop. If no one chose to follow her, that was their own prerogative.
Something. Running. Nearby. Desdemona's predatory instincts almost got the better of her, before she returned her attention to the stallion she was bent on destroying. But that moment of feral abandon had only increased the deadly determination that ran in her blood, and had unleashed just another bit of chaos into the mix. "Ariston... why, exactly, are you here?" A fight would not distract her entirely from her former target, and she allowed herself to enjoy the confusion and self disgust that seemed to radiate off of him, though he mouthed brave enough words.
Agisdi She had been about to tell everyone that it was a good idea to go do that if it meant she'd be warm when the fur covered mare attacked the black stallion.
Shreaking she scrambled backwards, tripping on her own hooves, and tried to get away. That wasn't right they weren't suppose to attack each other!. Even the crazy mares at home didn't do that. Green Lady had never actually hurt her.
She hit the ground in the tripping but quickly got herself back up and kept going. Her eyes were stuck on the black stallion hoping that he wasn't hurt too bad.
Draven He could hear the two mares moving. Good. It meant that there was a higher chance that they would escape from this. He felt fangs graze his shoulder, this time rearing up to escape what could have been the worst of her blow had it made a closer mark. He came down, pale eyes following her every move. "Children do not always learn things without a lesson... Let this be a lesson to the child who knew nothing of you. I do not fear death, demon." He had lived a good life between his original herd and the small one he had formed with Nostalgia and her foals. He would have given his life to protect any of them... And, if such was the case, he would do so for the mares that had taken off running. He knew the danger that he placed himself in and he did so willingly knowing well that, should the demon mare wish it, his next breath could be his last.
Korofi Koro longed to watch the attack, but instead turned to Ariston, smirking. "Heart is not enough?" he asked. "If I have the strength, the determination, the pride, the grit... well, I may never be a Kalona, but I'll sure as hell rise above them." He flicked his tail in the direction that the mares ran. "I'm not a fool," - oh, the irony - "but mark my words, I'll be more powerful than any plain old soquili before me."
Ariston Ariston watched the display in front of him, such a sick fantasy of his. Still being new to the whole -hurting others thing- he watched Desdemona gleam in her attacks. She held herself very well, not showing weakness to any attacks that were back at her. He couldn't help it, he had always wanted to see her in action.
It seemed she had spoken to him, and in his daze, he looked towards her. "I am watching. Isn't this what you wanted? Me to witness all of this?" He stared at her, blankly. "These people are idiots, they deserve what you are doing. They look pitiful, anyways." Everything they held in themselves was a Pride he didn't approve. One was standing up for the others, while one was pretending to be a bad boy. The rest were just fleeing. But still.. what an odd situation for him to witness.
He looked at the pale stallion, who seemed upset about something. He wasn't really listening as he spoke, but he turned to him snarling, mad that he took away his fascination. "No, its not. And yes, you are a fool. The Pride you carry is disgusting and unrealistic. One who does not love their body will never have a mind that is acceptable with it. I can't even listen to you without laughing, you speak of being powerful, but yet you are standing here like a child, doing nothing in any situation."
Dancer Seeing the two young mares run into the forest, Dancer was torn. There was obvious danger here - but they were in near panic and may not be as wary as they should in their flight from the skinwalker. Snapping his teeth in frustration, he decided their well being was more important than his need for a fight. "I am going to make sure the two mares make it to safety," he said to the others. "I will be back to assist if needed though." Dancer nodded a farewell to the other stallions. He backed slowly away, not turning his back on either the kalona or the skinwalker until he was well clear of them. Once he was clear he turned and began walking quickly in the direction the mares had gone.
Flower Seeing the other male bolt towards the safety of the forest the young female found her legs and bolted off in the opposite direction, albeit still away from the skin-walker and kalona. The only problem was her exodus left a trail in the flowers she tramped as she ran. As she made her escape she built up speed into a lope, her tail streaming behind her. She only hoped she could get to her teepee, and not get lost in the forest on her way.
Plague
Plague, a distance away, watched as the creatures gathered and spoke amongst themselves. Shades of color covered the field as different species wandered about, some curious, some fearful, others more monster than anything else. His hollow eyes scanned over them all, his interest slightly perked. It had been a while since he had last seen or spoken with a creature without the initial intention of eating it. Though.... he was feeling a bit famished, and his aching gums yearned for warm flesh and blood to soothe the dull pain. Perhaps tonight he would find himself another meal, after all.
He took a step to the side, and his gaze fell on the pelted mare. Skinwalker.
His mind immediately identified the predator. He grew more cautious, knowing the deadly potential of the beast, but nevertheless drew closer to the herd, his eyes never leaving her. If a skinwalker was present, something was sure to happen, and things could only get further interesting from here on out. He wasn't too concerned about her; should he be forced into a fight, he would merely take to the sky and present her with an aerial attack. He felt, however, that a fight would be unnecessary, as there were far too many weaker creatures about for her to devour, if it was her hunger she was needing filled.
He almost didn't recognize the kalona stallion for what he was, with the beautiful blonde mane flowing from his head down to his hooves. Such a prissy looking stallion... he reminded Plague of his Sweetness, though this creature's colors were far more easy on his eyes than her bright pinkness.
As for the others around, they seemed harmless enough. Tantalizing to the taste buds, actually. He wondered if the smaller horse tasted anything as tender as foal flesh. Hopefully, he would have a chance to find out tonight.
He watched the exchange between creatures, and saw the skinwalker lash out against the black stallion. It took a few moments, but the scent of blood carried itself through the evening wind and into Plague's presence. He definitely wouldn't walk away from such an opportunity now. Shortly after the skinwalker's attack, Plague watched as the rainbow stallion fled, and the short stumpy mare followed after him. He was tempted to follow after her himself and test the theory of her taste, but his intrigue over this skinwalker, as well as the already spilt blood, kept his path towards the herd in front of him.
Taking a few steps closer, tiny squeaks around his feet reminded him of the many followers at his side. If they were lucky, they would have something to feast upon as well before the night came to an end.
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Posted: Thu May 31, 2007 7:16 pm
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(Last of the Continued)
Desdemona
"You do not fear death, stallion? Truly... and the thought of the deaths of innocents whom you will fail to protect when you die does not trouble you at all?" Desdemona's words were deceptively soothing and gentle, as though she were trying to calm a startled foal. However, the blood on her teeth and the chaos in her eyes gave lie to her tone. "It is good to learn lessons... isn't it, Ariston?" This time, her words were a barb, specifically designed just for the Kalona. She knew no distinctions between targets, except that that one was just a bit more worthy of a creature than any foolish Soquili to fit Draven's description. She let fly with a couple of sharp blows with her hooves, wheeling about, and taking his ear in her teeth. She didn't hold on long, because she did not wish to be attached to him if he chose to fight back again.
Chuckling low in her throat, she glanced at Koro for a moment. "Will you, now? More powerful than any of your kind? Is that so? Tell me... if power requires you to taste my wrath, will you taste it?" The thought amused her, and deeply. "You may watch if you wish, Ariston... but know that tonight my hunger is not so contained as it was when last we spoke." She was being as kind as she could be, because it amused her to draw things out, to make those around her suffer. And it amused her to watch the little one flee, just after a much larger creature did the same. She was all the more entertained by Plague's appearance nearby. What exactly did that dark one want? She laughed coldly, letting the sound leave her teeth like a whip. Gracefully, the hunter moved so that she was just out of striking range of the stallion's hooves, and contemplated her next move. Would it be enough to maim him, or would the blood rage demand that she slaughter the brave fool?
Draven "Perhaps I should have chosen my words differently. I do not fear my own death, cursed one." He was hurting. He could feel blood seeping from wounds and he knew better than to be decieved by her words. Soothing, gentle... A demon just the same; not to be trusted. He snorted, "There will always be those such as myself who will give others time to live a moment longer. Even if it is no more than a day... It is one more day and that is what matters." She must not understand. How could she? She was cursed. Had she forgotten what it was like to live? What it was like to know that life itself was what made it worth the price one paid in defending others? Her blows came as no suprise, interrupting his thoughts. One hit... Then two. He could feel something crack and his next breath was harder to take in... But when fangs pierced his ear he reared back, striking out at her with his own hooves once more. She had moved beyond his reach by that time, of course. He had gained a bit of time in that. If she was out of his then he... Well, he was momentarily out of hers.
Korofi Koro bristled at Ariston but ignored him, swinging to face the skinwalker instead. What did she mean, face her wrath? How would that help? If he were to be strong, he need the help and guidance of the strong, not to be attacked by them. The young stallion was thoroughly confused by this but finally managed to respond. "I would do anything to be strong," he said, his voice much stronger than he felt. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."
Plague Plague paused in his movement as he watched the skinwalker attack the stallion, her movements graceful, yet intended solely to inflict pain. His wings rustled behind him restlessly, and he prepared himself, should she turn on him as well on a moment's notice. He knew she had seen him as he drew closer, but the mare seemed to have ignored him for the others around her, which suited him just as well.
It was mesmerizing, watching her in action. Chaos seemed to rule her motion, and he cautiously approached closer, the aroma of blood tempting, his mouth salivating. Though the meals were laid out before him, he knew better than to attempt to take from a skinwalker, and would remain content in only watching, for the moment.
Desdemona
What a pity. Proud Ariston, leaving such a scene. A shame, really... but there were other things to delight her. Other, more helpless (mostly) things. Of course, the strange creature who lurked did not truly fit that particular description, but he was one of several. "So noble... so heroic. So terribly... dull." Of course. Such sentiments were for the weak, for those who clung to the gentler emotions. Desdemona advanced on Draven again, somewhat pleased with how much of a fight he was putting up. It had been quite a long time since she'd enjoyed such violence. Didn't he know that it only fed the chaos within her?
She had indeed forgotten what it was like to live, and had he spoken those words aloud, she would simply have brushed them off, ridiculing them as the foolishness of a tenderhearted lackwit. He wasn't terribly unintelligent, but then again... what he was doing now in facing her down was not at all what one would call 'smart'. She exploded into a flurry of motion, her hooves flying at one moment, and her teeth at the next. His responses drew out the chaos, and fed it, fed it until she thought it might cause her to lose all restraint.
The Skinwalker paused, and allowed the stallion room to breathe, and room to fight back. She did, after all, enjoy toying with her prey more than anything else. "Really. Whatever it takes? Tell me, young one... do you know what a Skinwalker is? What I, and my kind, truly are?" He seemed delusional. Did he truly believe that he could become great simply from following the words of one such as she? Foolishness. Rampant, blatant stupidity. He would not live long if he continued to behave in such a way, to laugh at death so readily. And he would not gain allies if he pushed his own kind away. Of course, she herself neither desired nor really found herself needing them. Perhaps he was a similar mind. A pity. He probably wouldn't last as long thinking that way.
Draven He took the moment that she allowed him to breathe, thanking whatever spirits there were that remained watching over him. If he lived through this... No, not if. When. He would. He had lived through far too much already to simply give in to this evil and die now. Her last series of blows had taken him to his knees. He took a deep breath, trying not to wince as he pushed himeslf back up onto wobbling legs. "Are you going to teach him a lesson as well, cursed? I believe he, if any, could use one in what your kind are truly like."
Korofi "I do know," he said. "A skinwalker is cursed, morphing into a coyote at night. They're fierce, strong and fearless... and certainly a race to be feared." That was all he knew, although he had heard jumbled, conflicting rumours that built on this knowledge.
"I was born into mediocrity," he said, trying to keep his voice even when addressed Desdemona. "And if I were to simply accept that, I'd be no better than my family, or than the cowards who ran, or any of the others of my race. But I want more than that. I don't want to be just another face in the crowd. I have to rise above that." Determination gleamed in his eyes. "I may be young yet, and inexperienced, but now I'm trying to live life and gain that experience I need."
As an afterthought, he added, "There must be others out there like me, normal soquili with bigger ideas, and if I ever met one, they'd have my respect. But I cannot respect meager fools."
Plague Plague waited calmly, patient, as he watched the events transpire before him. Both stallions appeared out of their league when it came to the skinwalker, and the prissy looking kalona had left the scene by now as well. The darker stallion, who was struggling to stand back up and regain his balance, was a fool. Did he think his tongue to be a fiercer weapon than the skinwalker's strength and fangs?
He turned his head lazily to listen to the younger stallion, who had decided to answer the skinwalker's question. What a pity... this one knew even less of the danger he was putting himself into.
Plague knew he was far from invincible, and he wasn't attempting to fool himself into thinking he was the strongest or most powerful creature out there. Should the beast try to attack him, he would surely draw blood just as easily as the ones she had already taken blood from tonight. But he wasn't one to go down without a fight. And his style of fighting involved fangs and horn, instead of mere words.
"Gaining experience is one thing," his low voice cut in, breaking into the conversation, "But having the capability of being a stronger creature is another thing completely. Just because you have the urge and want to fly, doesn't mean you can, if you don't have the wings to do so."
Desdemona
Another cold, cruel chuckle left Desdemona's throat as she observed Draven attempting to find his feet. "Oh, perhaps he does... perhaps he does indeed. However, you have not learned your lesson, have you? You feel all noble, and justified. I am the enemy. Does it not trouble you that the Skinwalkers nearly always take from the ranks of the innocent? That I who once seemed as weak as those mares you strove to protect, am now as I am? Or do you look beyond that, and realize that there is no 'saving' me?" It was entirely possible that he was intelligent enough to realize the danger in drawing those conclusions. "Allow me to set your mind at rest, stallion... if ever it was so tortured. I was never as they were."
The truth, and surprisingly unadorned. But then, she did take great delight in drawing the pain out. "I should thank you, stallion, for reminding me that my targets are varied. Truly, that has escaped my notice." She was tempted to once again attack him, but was caught by the irony of the younger stallion's words. "If you think to grow beyond what you are, you will shed these ridiculous notions that you are superior to those of your kind. You are not. You may have ambition, and that is something that could get you far if you were not so bold... but you do not possess a more powerful form than any around you. You are frail, you are weak, and you are prey." One must never forget that a Skinwalker's regard for the lives of others is virtually nonexistent.
For the moment, she left off of toying with Draven to pursue the other, paler stallion. As she left the other's side, she delivered another kick to his already battered frame. Let him remember that, lest he speak such brave words again. "Tell me, do you have a healthy sense of self preservation?" Or was he as blind and as foolish as he seemed, thinking that she would not attack him? The black, winged stallion had a point. This child did not know the limits of his own form. "If I tell you to run... will you run?" Her eyes hardened, and she lowered her head slightly, gearing up for the chase if that should occur.
Draven "Who is to say that if you did not take their lives another creature would? What if it was a wolf? Would that make the wolf evil? No. The wolf kills to survive. You and your kind, cursed?" He shook his head slowly. "I have no pity for what you have become. You enjoy it. It is a part of you." That said he felt his knees give once more, body toppling just beyond the skinwalker's kick. He was tired... Nothing, certainly, that a good rest would not fix. He'd won, afterall. He'd seen two it that the mares had gotten away; that, perhaps, the younger of the two had learned something from this encounter. In doing so he had sealed his own fate... No matter what the cursed mare did, he would live on forever.
Korofi Though Koro narrowed his eyes, he knew her biting words were true. He was nothing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And something intrigued him, something that had honestly not crossed his mind before. "Too bold?" he asked, doubt in his voice. "Better too bold than too meek. As for a sense of self preservation..."
He paused. Did he? Here he was, speaking to a skinwalker as though he was one of her kind. It was certainly a foolish thing to do and he looked down at the ground, angry at himself for becoming irrational.
"I do, even if it doesn't show," he said slowly. "But if you told me to run, why should I? You could tear me to shreds." Koro looked up at her again, acknowledging this rather obvious fact. "But I wouldn't blindly do what I was told without a reason. If you attacked me? I might flee, in the interest of self preservation. Right now, we're just talking." He had the unsettling inkling it might not remain that way for long, but he continued. "So there's no reason to run, even if you tell me to."
Plague Plague found himself quite amused by the interaction, though the night was growing older, and he still had yet to find meat to feed upon. He had begun to turn away from the trio, having grown bored of the conversation, when the darker stallion's words rang out, continuing on with his so-called noble attitude. Didn't the fool know when to give it up?
He turned back around to gaze at the horse who had buckled over, and the easy mark tempted him. Should the skinwalker take off after the younger, stupider stallion, that would leave this horse to Plague's keeping... which would mean a nice hearty dinner for himself and his furry minions at his feet.
He failed to understand why the stallion decided to become a martyr towards the mares who had fled earlier and would no doubt forget him soon enough, but if he didn't act quickly, he'd become Plague's next meal as well.
Draven A loud 'caw' came from the sky above and a dark creature swooped down, landing by the fallen stallion. Large, black orbs watched the three large creatures stills standing. Crow's cry sounded once more as it turned its eyes towards the rats; things small enough for him to peck at should they attempt to come closer.
Desdemona
Desdemona had almost forgotten Draven. Almost, almost, almost. However, when Plague showed a marked interest in her downed prey, the predator in her came rushing to the surface, with a vengeance. "He's mine, fell stallion. Mine. My prey, my quarry." She moved so that she was almost standing over the fallen 'hero', her eyes snapping with a hellish fury, unlike any other she had so far exhibited. Oh ho. She was having none of that. Let Koro flee now. Let him stay, and watch. She cared not at all. Her territory had been invaded, with that one intention. "Touch him if you dare." She bared her teeth, snarling as any coyote might, when facing off against an enemy.
Her instincts swarmed over her like so many ants, each fighting for dominion. Which one would win? That was the question, wasn't it? She noted the bird, and slid her eyes towards the small ones that seemed to cling to Plague's wake. Interesting. Things to be noted. There was always something to be gained by observation. Even now, in the grips of her feral rage, she was able to at least think those thoughts. She hadn't gown coyote just yet. Oh, not yet. The night was young, and it might very well be that these others would see a side of her that they had not yet seen. And if so, it would not be pretty. She remained, standing, waiting for his response... ignoring the younger stallion. He who was almost inconsequential.
Korofi Koro watched as her attention was focused elsewhere and took that brief moment to think about what she had said. What was is worth, power? Was it worth giving his life?
"No," he muttered under his breath, barely audible. If he sacrificed himself, how would he claim that power that he so rightfully deserved? Korofi was willing to give up a hell of a lot more than most soquili would, but giving his life was pointless. So, while Desdemona turned to the black stallion - whom he had not even noticed, being so caught up in his conversation with the skinwalker - he took the opportunity to turn tail and flee.
Let them think of him as a fool, as a coward. He was still alive and had learned more than he anticipated tonight.
Plague A scowl formed across his face as the skinwalker made her way over to defend the weakened stallion. So she was planning on eating him after all, was she? So much for the idea of an easy dinner.
Her challenge rang in his ears, and he bared his own fangs in return. The fleas and mites covering his body pinched and gnawed away at him, and the ache and soreness of his jaw and gums thumped away at his skull, the pain overwhelming. If he didn't find some form of blood or flesh to chew on soon, the pain would become unbearable, and there would be no telling what would happen next.
He stared back into her fiery, deranged eyes and snorted. He didn't fear this creature. Of course he was wary of it, but fear was a different emotion. And emotions were a weakness, just another thing to get in the way of survival, of being strong.
"You're acting more dog than you are horse, skinwalker," he growled, lowering his head to expose the sharp, jagged horn on his forehead. "Are you forgetting what creature you truly are? Or perhaps it's easier for you to play the role of a dumb mutt, instead of a mare?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Plague continued keeping watch on the paler colored stallion with his peripheral vision. If he was unable to make the darker stallion his meal for the evening, then the white and blue stallion could suffice as a replacement.
As if on cue, and to his great disappointment, the young stallion seemed to finally sense the danger of the situation, and bolted. Plague could no doubt chase after the fool by air and make a feast of him, but it was no longer about the meal that mattered to him. No, now it was about his pride, and about the meal he was going to make from the black stallion laying helplessly behind the insane skinwalker.
Desdemona
Oh, now, that was amusing. Did he think she was going to move just because of a few pithy words? Not in the least. "Did you, perhaps, forget just what it is I am?" she returned mockingly, curving an eyebrow upwards at his words. "I am a Skinwalker. I am as much a coyote b***h as I am a mare." It was not just a form she took on, but an integral part of her being. The pelt, after all, was her own. "Generally, I find it as easy to play the dumb mare as the dumb mutt... although, given that I'm not really a mixed breed in the literal sense, that does not entirely apply." Let him bandy words. She'd bandy them right back.
"It would be easier for one such as you to find prey elsewhere, off of a body already dead perhaps." Desdemona, whatever she was, was not a cannibal. She killed Soquili, that was true, but that only made her a murderess. She did not eat them. She found that to be a waste. Why eat them, when she could spread their remains out upon the plains like so many jewels? A decoration and a warning to all who came. But this one... this one, she wasn't sure that she wanted to kill. He hadn't learned his lesson. He wasn't truly afraid. And he wasn't chaotic enough yet... she needed to play with him more. Needed to get at him.
Plague The scowl once spread across his face turned upward into a smug grin. "I know exactly what you are, as so aptly described by your little pupil, before he fled back home to work on his so-called evilness. It would be quite hard to forget such an interesting creature as yourself."
The rodents at his feet, by this time, had begun to make their way across the gap separating the two predators, and towards the blood that was freely flowing from the injured stallion. Plague ignored the small troop on their mission to appease their constant appetite, and continued his focus on the skinwalker in front of him.
"I'm afraid, however, you've mistaken me for one such as your runaway pupil, or the martyr laying behind you. I am neither of them, and can hold my own defense should you attempt to lash out. Whether it would be easy or not is no longer my concern. Being a vulture and picking at the dead is nothing compared to the feeling of killing, and taking the life yourself. And I plan to take the life of that stallion behind you who so blindly decided to give his life to allow the others to run. Do you wish to deny his wish to be a martyr, skinwalker, and allow him to live?"
Desdemona
"You forget, stallion... I am what I am. I will defend to my death what is mine. He is mine, his body is mine. For as long as I decide it is, that kill is mine. And you, powerful or dark though you may be, are challenging that." Desdemona smirked wickedly, returning the male's grin with her own fierceness. "I may actually desire to thwart his desire to die a martyr, but it is my choice to make." Her choice, and her reasons. "You may wish to call your friends off... lest they also become part of this little struggle." She was not one to underestimate an enemy. She was, however, quite capable of holding her own in most battles, and wasn't as threatened as she might have been by Plague's words.
She laughed coldly, amused once more. "That foolish little coward is no pupil of mine. He is as much prey as any other, and will be until the day he dies, or becomes a Skinwalker." It was true. She had some respect for the other strong races, the dark ones. Those born of hell. But she held no greater respect than for her own kind. Koro did not understand that. He did not value his own kind, for all that he valued himself and his own life. Perhaps in time he would learn to do so. Perhaps. "You are not as either of the ones you have mentioned, fell stallion, and that I am quite aware of. Make no mistake there." Of course, his plans were not hers. No one's ever were.
Plague He opened his mouth to respond, but the sharp pain in his jaw forced him to remain quiet. The pain was atrocious, and the unbearable level of it was causing his vision to blur as the ache pounded in his skull. As much as he would enjoy the fight laid out in front of him, Plague knew his limitations, and would only disadvantage himself further, should he proceed from where he stood.
A faint scent of sugar passed by in the breeze, and the familiar smell alerted him to a new presence residing from within the forest. Perhaps this night wasn't a total loss after all.
Despite the suffering his mouth was forcibly subjected to, the mutant grinned once again. "Keep your martyr then," he finally said, sparing one last glance at the lost meal, "It's a pity to waste such meat, though. As for the rats, they're neither my friends nor mine to command. They choose to follow me and I allow them to do as they wish. They're your problem to deal with, not mine."
Spreading out his powerful wings, he raised them up high and then forced them down hard towards the ground, sending his heavy form up a few feet into the air. His wings continued their motions, causing him to rise higher into the evening sky. He didn't trust the skinwalker enough to turn his back to her, so the safest route out would only be by a way no skinwalker could follow.
"Perhaps we'll meet again, skinwalker." he mused to himself, unsure and uncaring if she heard him or not. Turning towards the forest, he glided into the evening air, following the scent he had caught earlier. "And if we do, I'll be sure to be ready to take you up on that challenge of yours."
Desdemona
Ahhh. Like a true predator, or rather a scavenger, he took to the sky, no doubt pursuing easier prey. She also had no doubt, however, that she would see him again. He didn't seem the type to back down from a challenge easily. Growling low under her breath, she turned her attention to the rats. Those among their number who decided to give up and depart would live to find Plague another day. Those, however, that did not... well, that was another story entirely. With a wicked, feral grin, she began to wade through them. And within moments, it became clear just which of them had chosen what. A spray of red filled the ear, followed by the pain filled shrieks of the dying.
And there was much chaos and violence to be had. Sometime later, their little bodies were stretched out in contorted positions, flung here and there. Silent. Still. The Skinwalker's disturbing gaze centered on the stallion she had spared. She was somewhat satisfied with the battered state that she had left him in, although the little injuries caused by the rats irritated her. "Live to fight another day hero... knowing that I spared you. Fool." For a moment, a hint of the mare that she had once been showed in those glowing orange orbs, a ghost of pity drifting off to hell, where it belonged. "I may yet claim your hide in due time." With that, she dragged him to a sheltered place, and shifted forms, tearing off into the darkness as a coyote. Let the thought that she had spared him torture him just a bit. She had many things yet to do... and the night was young.
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Posted: Wed Jun 06, 2007 5:02 pm
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Posted: Sun Jun 17, 2007 8:56 pm
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Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2007 5:27 pm
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Posted: Tue Jul 10, 2007 6:49 am
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