The Catastrophe Is Coming. Can You Avoid It?

[moka]

Catastrophe
See Me With Your Senses...

...Before The Catastrophe Comes.

Light chestnut stallion pounded his hooves across the terrain. His pelt stained with zagging black lines, and a harsh burn mark on his neck was still visible as well as the curious scarring on his flanks. His black mane stood up on end, his forelock seamed to be puffing itself out, although he often rubbed some of the loose hairs away on a tree branch, it never really helps much. This equine of half bloods was an average hight, his linage came from all ranges of heights, builds, and temperaments which made him the way he was. When his hooves hit sand he dug in and the burning hot sand collected around his legs up to the hocks. He snorted and brought his head up high, his optics gazed around at this place, it seamed like a barren wasteland.

Catastrophe started up his course again, his zinniths pricked, swiveling to catch any sounds of life here. He noticed a blob of green far in the distance but there were other's here, he could scent them on the breeze, so they would probably be there, but Catastrophe had had enough to eat before he got here. He really had no other place to go. He decided he would lay low here, and stay out of sight of any other equines here. He kept his optics wide and his zinniths listening, ready to get away if any approached him.

[moka]

Fell
If You Loose You Hold On The World.....

..Don't Excpect Me To Stick Around.

Fell, was watching his brother's form fadd into the dust, he had found his troublmaker brother, so part of him mind was a t ease... although most equines cared almost nothing for their siblings once they were grown. The sky above was cloudless as the sun beat relentlessly down on his black mass. For a mustang he was very big. Standing at 17 hands he towerd over most of his breed. His personality... well lets not even get into that.

Ebony zinniths flicked around at the sound of sand flying in the distance. His optics darted around curiously, his muzzle held high into the wind, but it was blowing the wrong way so he could not catch the scent of whatever disturbed the sandy dunes. His tail lashed in annoyance, and his lifted his build to be suported on his haunches and thrusted forwards, a long trail of dust showing his course behind him was all you would find of his prenece there. He slowed from a ful blown gallop almost strait to a trot, and stopped. His optics could make out the light chestnut form of another equine, stallion by the loks of it.

The steed in the distance seamed to be trying to conceal himself, to hid out among the dunes, out of sight of any others, meaning Fell, that roamed the lands. Black stained brute decided to humor the strang steed, he would let the stallion belive he was unseen... for now. With a snort and a sort of horsey smile, he weeled away and shot out across the sands, just to amuse himself, although the sun's heat often made this task very hard and tiring, Fell didn't really care. With that he was gone, but he was ever watching the in the distance.