D.oldrum--(open)

[lucifer]

.:. It's been said B.efore, will be said A.gain, so where then lies the Q.uestion? .:.

And still she, the ocean, licked at his sinking hooves laggardly as her turbulent waves born to the depths tired and crawled upon shore with subtle gasps. The nerve impulses within the sharpened gray 'neath his heavy skull fluttered around with a hyped charge of deep cogitation. He shook his roman head to brush the thoughts out and focus only on now. He was but walking the ocean line, wandering into an area less desolate than the last by notice the breeze-brought scents and various disruptions of the surrounding sand. He had lay his spirit within hands unknown, for his own were cramped and cold. Eyes were opened, teared by the salted breeze, he felt the chilled movement of air push through his thoughts and they floated away. flicked by his tail in a good riddance. Farewell , the bollix of my mind.

This, you can't call happy, nor sad, confused. It holds no organization through a calling, thus it is left as unexplained as any other phenomena. So this, this sensation that was one to haunt, one to please, was the calm within, the emptiness, yet warmth of mind, it was as it was, and he couldn't find the reason to question his own instinctual impulses. By the stench, testosterone was not only his own. The only input he exerted to himself was to recognize the presence, for once done that nothing more was needed. His lungs had forgiven his change of air, from thin to salt, but now they tasted of salt, and would crave if left to otherwise. The blue within but one eye mirrored the calm lapping waters in which he trod currently, though that was but the glossed surface, beneath into the deepened, sun deprived areas, the currents were restless.

The bulk of his sinew was flexed and extended so as to test the stamina, though it was of no question. With each stride his limbs were lifted with powerful ease from the suction of the watered sand, then pressed with delicacy to firmly hold his weight once more. He was neither hurries, nor lagging, he allowed a comfortable pace, with a slightly sway of his frame and flicking of his wet-curled tail. Hooves sliced into water with the soft splash of sound, then popped with the suction in something of an amusing sort, this clashed with the surrounding ocean music. His hide was merely dampened, still emitting a pinkish tint, though his pelt was pulled outward, catching the silver tips with subtle light, adding to the luminous feel. He tilted his path to find the dry sand, heavy stride now pulled into flawless movement, muscles sleekened and he but walked on, for standing would cause motion to stir within the brain.

His gaze was one to wander, now settled contently outward into the endless stretches of water, the yawning sky above yielding but few clouds, lonely they seemed, pushed by a cooling breeze, dissipating with the release of their airy condensation. How simply lovely could the cloud be to sight, but when angered they do so become an odious source with spit of lightning and heavy tears. With ocean and wind, they were a moody force, the indication of nature's current disposition. Eyes then swept across all directions but for that in which he was blind to. He held no expectation, though through a contradictory output, his inner mind still held something of inclination. His head had dropped along the way a few times to pluck the sea grass from sandy roots, the substance was thick with nutrients and provided a plentiful source of energy, in which he held boundless amounts at this time, though subdued to his inexpressive and collected physical and mental state. [/color]

[Denali]

.:. Balance is not someting to be achieved. It is but something that comes by imbalance.. :.

Such depths roamed the mass of blue aqua. An expanse of which was deemed unending by that of the common mind, but which was, by knowing mind, ended, as it is not a perpetual thing. the soft swash of her gasps as she loved upon her counterpart, her opposite. Such strewn affection for that which did not love her. Naught but bitterness from such still standing land. Never did he make gestures to her. Never did he reply to her clearly audible pining for him. Her love went unnoticed. Ignored. such sparkling beauty. It clasped anything that it could. It loved even that being which spliced it through surface which could not feel. Beings that ventured her perpetual beauty. Undeterred. untamed.

And still, despite his coldness, she love him. He knew it, he respected it. But he did not feel it. No, he saw her only as a disturbance to his being, his intensity with the beings. The irking little pests which roamed around, within, and surrounding him, never giving him any peace. He was an illusionist. someone whom he didn't even know himself. So many layers, so many inexcusable beings within himself. Like her. she didn't know herself. That was her biggest problem. Not once had she taken the time to figure out her own being, who she really was. She knew naught of herself, except that she went by Montella, and she was utterly alone. Now anyways. Her semblance had gone off and take the other road, the one to idiotic hood. to become what he was ultimately born to be, a stallion. She knew naught what part he played, and at this moment care not. however, she did know that in order to settle his mind, as she had so many times before, she must find, once and for all, herself.

Sinew stretched and fae was propelled to wade in knee-deep. The ocean clung to her like she was a gift from the land. She massaged and caressed her like she was one of her own. something of her within the femme. Something within stirred. A wild passionate being seemed to be evolving within the young enchantress. Her speckled hyde was pale, and splotched. Nothing but indirect opposing forces. she was the light in herself. she knew nothing of what life was for, other than survival. She knew no others, other than her semblance, now gone. she grieved for him naught, for he would return unharmed to the Mountains, she knew. As for her, she knew naught of what came upon her. She claimed nothing a sher home. on the very fringe of her vision a blur of some other beast, a mongrel by the stench of it, was coming up haphazardly. Or perhaps that was just her mind playing games? One never knows. Mind over matter, or matter over mind?

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[lucifer]

.:. Never is it R.eal, until held so in M.ind

Knowledge, or was it that even? How is it that one may carry through with an action without knowing even why, or how they could muster the strength to do so? No, it wasn't the knowledge that we all are raised by, learning to walk, to speak, to fight, to grieve. It is the knowledge that is embedded into the soles of time's un shodden hooves. Never a thought needed, no impulses of the frantic nerves within the spongy brain, it was simply there, the foundation of a life in itself, of all lives, sometimes altered to a species, and yet still exactly the same. Instinct, the sixth sense. And with understanding of the most simplified force of the nature of one's own, you can conquer the universe with spirit and mind. And by this , one may find something of confusion to lay in hiding...for it seemed that this instinct was such an easy attribute to argue with, what fools are those to argue or ignore the very thing that keep the heart beating, the lungs breathing.

He'd expected more by now, a glimpse, a fresh scent. But nothing of the others of this land had yet presented themselves to him. Nearly a surprise that the air of a leader had been so strong, yet no leader thus far had questioned. Lucifer, he was a young, strong, capable stallion, and seemed a threat to many upon his travels. Not foolish to be wary, but is so to be ignorant. Not even he knew what he wished of being here, or being anywhere, the air, the wind, the eyes of his counterparts would speak to him in answer of his questions. He watched The wind blow from the cooling sea, yet warmth wasn't in short supply, the moutons groaned, it seemed, with the season's change. And his gaze so flew to the peaks, no longer with longing, only with curiosity...never did his thoughts stray too far, for if they did...he would find himself very unhappy in a time where he had the freedom to remain with some inkling of contentment.

Aye, but now the tides have changed, water disrupted naught by him cause motion of his neck, body followed as well to tilt and eye the cause of the water's noise, he hadn't ceased his slow amble, so first hint was coming upon the group that so lay down their mark upon this land. Youth, is sparred into his colorful orbs, flashing like a strobe light into his brain. And too followed by the uncanny fact that she wasn't one of the herd that abides upon the golden sands. He nearly smirked, but facial expression was solid, calm. Seems it that another was in a process involving heavy use of the mind. Let it rest, just once, and the answers hide no more. He was curious yes, but remember the dear , fool of a cat that gave into such things...let us not wander away from the stable mindedness of a battered soul. His gaze drawn away from the opposite of the ocean, watching the young female, but not to harshly as eyes swept over the endless motion before him. Spoke when spoken to, but when it is seen both ways, then the ice is never broken.[/color]

[Denali]

.:.Lest the Ice be to thick for even man's contraptions to break, let it break. .:.

she knew naught why her actions came about the ways they did. She pondered deeply upon that. For, she noted solemly that once the ship sail, thoes on it return to not be the same again. She, so much mentally mature than her mirrored, yet opposing image, acted with rugged reason calculating every move, every lay of th' hoven upon the earth. She knew the very curvature of the land itself, every poer where the grass grew. Perhaps it be the false hope she once held that one day she would be choosen as ... Sparks within mind failed to cross the universal length of mind. Darest she bring up age old thoughts, again? No. she was done with that. She was strong. She had out witted the wittiest, and out smarted the best. All at their own game. Otherwise, how would it be that she was so wise, and yet lacking so much in age? Perhaps, as some claim, wisdom is not smart, but smarts are the roots of wisdom. Perhaps. Perhaps not. That's what he...again the electrical path failed, and came to a dead end.

Blanched fae noticed how close the elder, to her at least, brute had come. His own pistons, so thickly laered of years of developed sinew, had carried him at such lazy pace so closely. And as of yet, it was of no surprise to her, as he was heighty, therefore meant that regularly strides of his were least twice hers. Hardly before she had come across an elder, of sorts to her, that remained so silently comanding. Airs of quiet dominance reeked and slathered at this stallion's feet. He was not the lead here, else questions would since have been asked, and moreso forcibly answered. Warily orb was cast o're th' stag. Unsure of how to take him, she knew not of what to speak. Mentally she slunk away from the thought of the brute, and what he might want, but then curiosity pricked her forward, like taking three steps forward and two steps back; it would be faster just to take one step forward at a time that that. Sole aud flicked upon brute, remaining locked, showing her keen awarenes to his prescence.

Minds work in haphazardous ways. never does one understand how another works, perhaps become known well enough to be predicted, but never known. Perhaps it is a habitual thing, the mind. Repeating patterns of which never end. Of course, the body is of one thought , one nano second of which it takes the signal from mind to limb to strike the water, the ground or in stallion's cases opponents. But should that nanosecond be somehow delayed, say by cranum damage, or perhaps damage to the chord which carries th signals, no matter how brief. Would breathing, beating of th' inner drum, the bloodflow, be delayed? she knew not. But she did know that even so, the elder drew yet nearer than before, not necessarily to her, but general direction.

Crani' turned and boa curved as to get at better angle to study brute at hand. A cremy blanch he was, something pure that was purged. Similarily to herself, however she was scarred in places, as he was but one scar, one color. She was two. pistons followed head, and femmora left her thoughts where they had begun, for the most oart, within the ocean, but away from her youth-hood. Ne're more was she to think of thoughts with such pure innocence as she had before. Instincts were habitual enough, accostoming to it. Orbs cast upon facade of the stllion, briefly attempting to read, but being unfruitile recognized the begining of that failure, and left it be. Vocals spoke as peachy hoovens split the sands. soft, yet amusedly sure, for one of her age to speak with such quite confidence.

"Hello."

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[lucifer]

.:. I.nclined are you so to E.lude the mind, Let the G.hosts of us depart..:.

Ah, there is was. Words so escaped the female's mouth and led his pistons to find an end to their motion. When did it happen that words were implemented into the equine vocabulary. When did the senses become bored of reading body language, because what more did you need to survive than the ability to move, eat, and produce offspring, that was and is the sole purpose of any horse's life, all other drama simply made things interesting. Something happened along the way, only that the aging breeze may be able to recall, to cause change. But it wasn't bad, nor was it good, it simply was. You can hide behind a plastered smile, but never can one change the intensity of their own windows tot he soul. Sure, hot breath may fog the lenses and distort the reading of others, but never does it fail to give away something of a mood, or thinking pattern.

Looking upon the female, before the breath of word was flicked from tongue, he had her orbs locked into his own, because that was the only true language that any being can trust to not be a fabrication, and he, of all of the beings, should know the art. You can get around the spilling of thought through your glossy eyes, but a magician never tells his secrets. It screamed in her eyes, intense thought, there was always something about the outward gaze, when you were your only company, then to have distraction, and be unable to block the mind and thoughts before you turn to see who has disturbed your peace in thought. If only one spoke what had been in mind, there would never be enough time to graze, for speech would last forever as thought never ceases. A simple smirk played upon his pink lips as her maw racked open into one single word of a form of greeting. So much thought funneled into one word.

Aye, but this he liked, talkers always seemed to pry, and this only locked the steel doors to his inner being. Nobody knew him, and he liked it that way. Whether to trust, or to not, it was a an edge that he kept with him, because nobody should trust him. and yet he rarely gave reason for them to not. Balance a teetertotter with sand on one end, and yourself on the other, he'd played this game his whole life, and by now he'd be pretty damn good at this, but one never really knew. Is this what his mind has reverted to? Because at the moment, his mind is still, the buzz so very faint, tucked deeply to the back of his head, because Like said, the thoughts shone in one's eyes, so let them reside in the darkness, and the orbs become filtered with emptiness. His immediate thoughts were only of now, each passing second, every breath, beat of heart, muscle twitch, that was instinct, was being.

Never respond too soon, it makes one seem a desperate figure for company, this because it was of their nature, equine, to seek others. That was one of instinct that many would and have overcome, because if you can wander the labyrinth alone, then do so, because more will slow you down. His plume flicked, the salt-dried edges split at they swiped at his legs. Boa arched and auds flicked back slightly, he didn't notice it much, but it seemed dominance, and his born attitude walked hand in hand. Other then the characteristic traits that he held in body, his facade hinted that of inviting, while still holding onto a solid form. He let his dial bob to her greeting, then tilted his head so as his sensitive orbs could catch a look. He could 'see' more with the pink hued eye, take that into your own interpretation.

" 'Lo" See? He could play the short-word game too. ;P Tone was placid, heavy with his drawl. Ah, but so boring was it to hold onto but one syllable until the other spoke, for greeting never got you anywhere with conversation. " You've yet to greet the one having claimed this land as done so lovely by me? "[/color] Ending vocals were raised in the form of a question, but the words were as they were, a statement, because surely something more than a one-worded greeting implied that she'd been alone among the sands until now. And if not, then he'd deem this logic of his own incorrect. And then he waited, something that sparked complaints out of many, What was wrong with a wait, a few seconds, hours, months, years, it is only wasted time when you see it so, else wise it is a passive form of being. [/font][/color]

[Denali]

the thoughtless wave. the questioning wake. the thoughtless stare unto upturned skies, and the day is reveled yet lost in it's own sky. the fae had been drawn explicitly from her thoughts, deep as they were, though they were still solidly there, remaining part of what her thoughtfull, questioning mind held. Still, the ocean, peacefull as ti was, gave her no answers. This brute, though he held the air of command, as a lead should, there was something deeper, that told her he was not. Yet still, it was ponderous that no stallion had questioned he right to be there. Yet at the same, it was not, as his very pelt was - seemed to be- the essence of command itself. THough the stag himself stated to not be lead; he was looking, or watching for something of someone to that effect.

The water licked at her legs, and though she had greeted the brute, and turned head to face him, she had not moved. It did not wish her to go. Some part, did not want to leave the comforting trance the ocean's heartbeat had put her in. But she did not wish to find her soul lost. the sandy bottom sucked at her feet, not willing her to move back. But her own sinew, connected as it was to her own bones, out did the ocean self to only take her to where the waves met the land.

"No, I have not come across he who claims to be lead."

the fae lingered, not knowing what, exactly to do. She was not rude enough to merely walk away from a conversation that she had begun.

((Ahh!!..I lost my muse...x.x -tear-))

[lucifer]

.:.She L.ures with the S.ong, yet K.ills with the S.ame .:.

Pallid stag moved not but the ripple of sinew reflected by the easing waves. Gently, yet holding a heavy, ominous air, an oceanic breeze whispered through the fringes of his salted locks, dock raising slightly to let his tassel be brushed with nature's comb. The sea seemed quite, as if to draw its strength and let some of its liquid find the clouds before embellishing an increasingly frigid world with rain. His ears slowly pricked toward the words that took time to find the fae's mouth. Features lay as the had so been placed with uncanny comfort, yet beneath held a firm frame.

" The free of the hierarchy be you, mare?" Tones wove upon the breeze with a monotony in sense of steadiness, but still the chords of his throat didn't fail to show emphasis where needed to liven the subtle tones. His lips flickered with a smirk before it was lost to his motionless facade. " She's a skilled hunter at that, captures the souls so that their winded hearts break to so leave her...the sea. " Last words were resemblance of a sigh, with less notion toward that of course. Orbs flicked between the icy fae and the darkened waters. [/color]

[Denali]

((Do forgive me if I take a couple days, Solyss, I've got at least 3 replies to respond to everytime I get on, and you're always require more muse than I currently have. I'll post Tomorrow..I hope.))

[lucifer]

// That's alright <3 You don't need any more stress ;P we can hold this off for as long as you need //

[Denali]

[Let not words not twist the meanings behind them]

Blanched fae loitered, refusing to dance further upon the sand. Femminique boa arched as pin-pricks flicked forth to catch the vibes dashing forth from th' brute's maw. Blank look upon the fae's facade as the brute's foremost words fell upon her lobes and settled into her brain. voltage reached a maximum within crani' as the words seeped into her receptor, and went haywire as though she was trying to understand a foreign language. Blinking the fae lifted her head high, finally getting some of the jist that the brute was asking.
"I belong to no one, and nowhere, as of late."

Her gaze returned to linger o're that of the queen's massive beauty. The stag's vocal's filled her ears, almost as though she, herself, had claimed a narrator, telling her history, or something to that effect. The fae turned back to the stallion, nodding.
"You are here to challenge the lead, are you not?"

[lucifer]

By the g.race of the heart be that so many are s.lain .:.

Gaze studied the young mare as she was left to thought; but a few moments passed before her pallid head raised and words seeped form her maw. He held a study expression, nodding curtly to her first remark; ah, so she was a roamer...utmost respect had he for those that were in transition. Sometimes days were good; alone, free, and maybe, if god willed to it, happy. But some days were bad; alone, watched, hunted...it was a teeter totter of a life for a wandering equine, no denying that their species was that of prey to many, yet held so much power that it rarely seemed a threat.

He didn't respond to her first words; feeling that her breath still had capacity with a finishing question; he was not proven wrong in that. Challenge the lead? At this point, and beforehand, he hadn't really interpreted what he was doing, or where he was going, all he knew is that he needed a change...something different. Hell, he hadn't even met the stallion that held this territory, something that was mildly surprising seeing as that there was another male, himself, within the terra talking to a mare that potentially could add to his harem. He cocked his head, eying the fae. "I was born not a leader, nor a follower; I suppose I will let things fall into place as they come. Why do you expect that to challenge is my intention?" He answered coyly, weight shifting to the left.[/color]

[Denali]

[Cast not away the ways of tradition, for wanted or not, they will come with you.]

Blanched fae studied the brute as vocalizations were exchanged between them. The brute paused, though she was not precisely sure she trusted the silent thoughtfullness that passed, she moved naught. Perhaps she had intrigued thought unto him. Perhaps he was losing himself against the will of her. She was slow herself to reply.

the wash of the waves came in, Swoosh. only to retreat again. Yet somehow she was able to make ground against the landlord, and slowly, thought steadily, she slinked to them. her grace and beauty, the hostile tranquility. Entrancing to all..who dare to listen and watch her thorough beauty.

"Perhaps because it is why the vast majority of stallions would roam another stallion's terra. Though I must say that you are not like many stallions that I have crossed in my few years. " She paused, studying him. "Though, young as I might be, I have not seen as many summers as you might have, even the young are born into the stereotypes of the world."

[edit as of 8-19-07]When the brute did not immediately answer, silently sinew streached; the fae slipped away, down the beach, following the edge of the big blue, both peaceful and intimidating.

[mattiegrl]

A black lippizzaner wandered into the land. She was wet from the ocean waves and didn't know where she was. She needed a home and wondered if this was a place for her. She let out a loud nicker for anyone that would listen to her. She needed someone to listen to her. Where else could she go?

[Denali]

Beligerent looking stag wandered from the shadows of the deep forest. what was this? shores at the edge of the coastline. His hooves sunk ever so slightly in the soft blanched sand. Though surprisingly, he seemed acostumed to the effort of pulling them out of it. The sinew 'neath his thick, taught pelt rippled with his masculine strength. His muscle-thick boa arched, limiting the expanse of his blind spots.A soft breeze played up and danced around his sensitive mug. Lungs expanded, taking in the heavy scent of other equines. A stallion, and two mares..Were they his? well weather they were or not, he was bound to come scross someof his own kind sooner or later. As it was it seemed it would be sooner. Long ebon tendrils danced in the light touch of the breeze, and thick, luxurious tail swished in annoyance at the summer flies. Not long after the breeze tattled on the congregating equines, did he happen to spot them in the near distance. Ebonite brute stopped, nibbling on some beach grass. Waiting. watching.

[mattiegrl]

Jaz smelled the new horse coming and turned her head to look at him. Was he the lead stallion of this land? Or was he a visitor. He seemed to be the only horse there besides herself so he must be the lead. She sent out a whinney to him. It was as sweet and melodious as summer itself with all of its blossums and fruits. She took a small step towards him but stopped. The mare was slightly nervous since she had never even met another stag besides her own father. Mane and forelock blew out above her and away from her neck, giving the impression that she was a godly horse with her beauty and grace. She seemed to float there as the tendrils left her face and her tail floated on the wind behind her.