a.n o.u.t.l.a.w o.f h.e.r o.w.n c.o.l.o.r.s

[mystery]

r/e/s/t/l/e/s/s
a gorgeous grasslands, extending as far as the eye can see. a clear blue sky, puffy white clouds visible in the far distance.
the ground heavy with horses and their leavings.
the earth compact with the beat of many hooves.
a rythmic pounding drummed the grasslands. among the hock-high grass, a figure races, tail streaming behind her, mane whipping her neck.
her rugged coat a golden tawny in color, the femme is not exerting herself. an easy gallop like this keeps her in shape as she traverses the land. her hooves, hard and round, are made for running.
the sorraia's mane is long and silky, the same golden tawny as her coat, except a shade darker with black streaks mingling. the tail is similar, a golden tawny darker than the coat with one solid black band that is continued from the dorsal stripe. her head is lowered on the long neck, intent on her destination: a rumoured meeting spot for the outlaw band. her dark blue orbs are narrowed against the wind, almost shut as the air slices past her.
"finally."
the single word escapes her black maw and she looks almost annoyed at herself-who wouldn't be, after announcing their own prescence to the world?
she has slowed to a gentle trot, finally suffering to pant after her long journey, which is finally over.
"outlaws...i am here..."

[Crow'sia]

CROW’SIA
open the past

The sun was up, high on the summer’s day, and the sky clear. Crow’sia could not have been in a worse mood. The night of her arrival in this very field burned in her memory and of Bayard who had implied she was fickle and denied her access into his home. The moon had been purple, and she had been rather content to stand beneath it among a solitary tree, one that she eagerly sought out. To her eyes came nothing save disappoint. The vast territory of the fields continued and the forest and mountainside rose up. With an aggravated snort, Crow’sia continued on.

She had recently left the Shores, temporarily, compelled for by the landscape that had so controlled her destiny. Never making friends within the herds, it calmed her mind with memory, whereas the Shores made her burn with anger. Her heart would race too fast and the fur-hidden lines in her flesh would look all the more powerful. It was a tiring party of recollections that made her ears pound and the scar tissue open them burn. The blood rushed to her head again. It was a familiar sight though she had nearly missed it. Thoughts of Denizen swirled in her mind. Hers.

But now she was quickly becoming lazy with the sun; it burned on the light beige fur of her coat, instead of reflecting and her stomach lurched into the reverie. Ducking her head Crow’sia tore out a number of shoots to settle the sickness, and chewed upon them delicately. The blood in her skull was pounding hard now, faster and faster. Thump, thump, thump, thump! A growl rolled from her throat, and the mare choked, spitting her half-chewed meal to the ground. She lay down. The sound was not her heart, she noticed with a start, but more accurately galloping. It was hard to detect, and she tried to angle herself to pick it up more clearly. How useless an ambition!

Then suddenly, as it met its climax it ceased. But she heard the girl before she saw her. Within a few painful and bone creaking seconds she was on her feet, and she spun to face a little ways off the most curious of creatures. Yet Crow’sia did not cock her brow as if amused or interested, her eyes were quite the opposite. She could not have seen if she had slit them any further, her glare reflecting invisible fire. And then, she suddenly laughed, deadly serious, the sound was dry, harsh trees breaking in the forest.

“You wont find them here.”

[mystery]

a snort escapes her flared nostrils: "they were rumoured to be here. but," she hastily adds, "if not here, then where?"
she twitches her head, causing the forelock that is draping over her dark blue eyes to swish aside. no marks are on her dreambox, except for the black maw.
"ah well. it felt good to run, for once." her half-chuckled words are for herself, not for her companion; yet she is sure the other has heard. "nothing feels better than the wind in your mane and the ground speeding away under your hooves..."
with a derisive snort, she looks away, tail flicking away the buzzing bloodsuckers. her sides have stopped heaving from the exertion of galloping away the morning; instead, they are rising and falling regularly. sweat still glistens on her short golden coat.
"i suppose i should introduce myself. i am mystery," she says, her voice louder than her earlier praise of galloping. she suddenly feels hungry; reaching with her overlong nape is no problem, however, so she bends it down and grabs a mouthful of the green-yet slightly faded-grass. chewing comfortably, she flicks her ears impatiently: those flies are very annoying. she does not want to do anything to break the gentle silence that seems to have fallen, but she has to: "darn these flies! they are very...annoying!" she says through gritted teeth. her ears are back again: her upper lip curls with disgust at the thought of flies enjoying her sweat.

[Crow'sia]

CROW’SIA
open the past

The conversation progressed rather quickly in Crow’sia’s mind. She scoffed in return, digging up earth with her paw hastily. “Rumoured still?” she asked, her tone was remarkably bland. She mulled the idea over in her head, listing off the few faces she remembered and the even fewer names. Then the face of the mare before her, which drew little recognition and to her seemed perhaps even younger than that demon in the Shores, that ignorant cow.

“…and the ground speeding away under your hooves...” Flashing a peculiar look Crow’sia nodded once. She felt wildly compelled to walk in the opposite direction, her legs jerking menacingly and stomach clenching again and again. Several minutes of spasms and her body compromised, pacing in tight circles and then to and fro.

“When you are young,” she mused, idly flipping away the flies which attempted to land on her rump. “Crow’sia.” With a tentative step she moved away from Mystery. Listening to the sound of chewing found herself easy drawn back into her mind and she could readily ignore the other female’s complaints only acknowledging them with a flick of her tail. Although many an insect did pester her she found herself paying them little heed. Crow’sia might find herself thankful that she were not in fact standing in the shade of a nearby tree, or the forests where the epidemic of such creatures would be far greater.

Just short of realizing, she had suddenly detected that her pacing had ceased. Crow’sia slowly bent her knees and crouched onto the ground, lowering her head just enough so that the long shoots of grass covered her eyes. Poking her head through a number she peered up to Mystery.

Where had there ever been a place where one could swim?

[mystery]

((i cannot post now-but i will as soon as possible. sorry for the delay!!))

edit: ((okay, now i have time.)

"rumours last quite a while," mystery replies. "i should stop following them. but, do you have any idea where the outlaws would be, if they are not here in the lush fields?"
she sighs and glances down at the lush grass. "what an accurate name," she murmurs. a trace of a frown touches her gaze for a moment: and then her night-blue orbs are clear again, and she lifts her dreambox to glare defiantly across the horizon. the sun is still high in the sky, but it is slowly creeping towards the west.
her long, shaggy mane whips back with the sudden wind, lashing her withers and the other side of her muscular nape. her equally unruly tail is also blown back, and it streams back in strong ripples as in the great, wide ocean.
her orbs narrow and her nostrils flare as a strong scent is flung back on the steadily increasing wind: the scent of other horses. stallions, and mares in heat.
"so that's what this place is for. i never realised it when i was younger," mystery says. her voice is softer, as if she longs for suich love from a stallion; but then it hardens and she snorts with contempt of the acts performer here. "a-a mating field. to bring about foals. useless, really."
((i don't really have a muse today, sorry..))

[Crow'sia]

CROW’SIA
open the past

Where. Crow’sia smiled ear to ear and shifted comfortably on the ground, stretching two creaky legs in front of her. She poked her head further out of the grass; it was an answer her eyes savoured, whipped by the wind. “The heart of the Shores and Soul. All dead,” she hissed; her tone was detached, her voice floating high above her head but lightning sliced through her mind. Instinctively she flicked one of the torn, rather destroyed, ears on top of her head. Reminiscing once more. Her smiled faded quickly, her face fell. Silently snarling she set it ridged ducking beneath the grass again. When one piece jabbed her eye though, Crow’sia barked ‘ouch!’ loudly.

“Hah, lush. Yes, everything here has been named as it is.” The reply came quick and seamless. She delivered it smoothly although there was a bubbly, dreamy quality to the sound. Her right eyelid was tightly shut and heavily watering, unassisted by the blaze far away in the atmosphere. As a Cyclops she scanned what little she could see; the odd tree and the vague shadow of rock lifting into the air as great endless peaks. Vinny’s home. Was he still alive. Crow’sia nodded, concurring as Mystery continued though she was still elsewhere and her entire body, one second limp and the other fidgeting might have reflected this.

“Further to, the, west maybe? But down by the Forests, the climate changes slightly because of the mountains, it much more temperate,” she mused with a another nod and a head shake. The vague scent of flowers, musk, and the dry soil directly below her nose. Crow’sia dropped her head so that her chin smacked on the ground and bounced up before settling. She stared forward. “You are eating here, hardly useless.”

OOC: No worries. Sorry if I was a bit, well I did not help contribute to continuation, with the exception of the outlaw question, but perhaps that's just a reflection on Crow'sia personality.

[mystery]

ooc: like you said, no worries.

"true..." her mutter is reluctantly in agreement. she does not respond to the rest of the other's words, flicking an ear when the ouch is heard-but she stares sullenly at the horizon still.
hunger finally breaks through her sour mood and she leans down again, snatching a large mouthful of the lush grass in question. she chews it thoughtfully, savoring the salty tang of the grass that is mixed with a sweeter, heftier undertone of taste. she swallows and blinks. "yes, the grass is good to eat. and the plains are good to run on. what i was referring to as useless is the point of this place-to make foals. foals are silly and quite a waste of time, for most of us. especially since newcomers arrive all the time."
her words are languid, used only for conversation's sake. she suddenly makes a snap decision and whirls on her onyx pillars, daggers digging into the soft earth meshed with green stalks.
"i must find them... they have to be around here somewhere," she hisses through clenched teeth. her dark eyes are blazing with her sudden urgency. "i must find them...before this dream melds to the next, and the world turns into a nightmare."
pacing restlessly, she tosses her head wildly and heaves a great breath, trying to force herself calm. "or...maybe I could start another one..more outlaws, competing for the strength of the terra..." she does not realise that she has thought aloud. a plan has started formulating in her mind. "persuade new arrivals, and young'uns not yet dedicated to a herd, to my cause...form the rebels..."
a sigh breaks loose of her ebon maw and she drops her dreambox, whuffing at the ground until she finds a spot of tasty grass. she pulls it up and gulps it autmoatically, her mind elsewhere; her onyx-streaked tassels slap her as the wind suddenly gusts forth again. her mane is also rushed forward, against her neck, and her forelock is lifted clear of her forehead. she jerks it up, glaring at the source of the wind, as it dies down.
"yes...that could work..." her voice is very soft, barely registering on her own ears. a smile spreads, slowly, across her maw as she formulates the plan. from beginning to end, this plan was perfect-including the fact that it had no end.
"yes..."

[Crow'sia]

CROW’SIA
open the past

Sleep would have been nice now. It flitted around in her head and spun outside like a blue streak of cloud, round and round dizzying her. Again her mind separated from present time to past and now to future. A future without her in what could only be a horrifically short way away. Perhaps even within the next hour. This idea made Crow’sia keep her eyes open, despite how her beige lids tried to sink down again and again. “You’ve a point. Maybe it is not foals they are after,” she mumbled. Wiggling into another more suitable position she strained to catch each word coming from Mystery and was certain she had missed something. But the sudden scraping, the monstrous sound so close to her cheek made Crow’sia bolt upright, her neck bones snapping with anguish. Teeth bared, eyes wide, she turned her head to the other mare, pulling herself high on her knees. They dug into the earth in protest, and the thinning tendons in each of her forelegs felt to be swollen and at breaking point. “What!” came the growl, though her features softened and she sunk into the ground.

“Oh, that again,” Crow’sia cooed, beaming to the bright green bottom’ of grass. She was about to lay down once more when the continued epic of Mystery stopped her. Frozen like ice and her stomach suddenly churning her own jaw locked. In silence she listened, studying through the corner of her eye, up the green roots to the pale tops and the mare’s face. Most certainly a native, to know such stories. The wind changed, it might have even picked up, and the other mare seemed to be in a world of her own, living memories that she could not possibly have had. Crow’sia head began to swim, fire melting ice. Like lightning she was on her feet and an added dose of pain from the sudden movement made her snarl when she came to bear up upon Mystery. Making sure to press her face as close to the other’s as she could Crow’sia stretched to full height.

“Rebels, hah!” she barked, the guttural tune of her voice made her vocal chords raw and she shook sporadically. Contradicting her curiosity to the odd choice of words she had just heard Crow’sia could not help the black pits the formed in her eyes even while the sun glared relentlessly upon them. “You have no idea what you’re even talking about!” She flicked her ears again, this time consciously. “It was sacrifice, far from the stupid games of children.”

Looking disgusted Crow’sia snorted and took a number of steps back. Her breath was heavy, fevered really, but she hardly took a moment to recompose herself before barrelling onwards. “If you would listen you would know they are dead. Gone. Ten years! And I am the last.”

Save Blackrose –a traitor– the last who she had seen alive since her return. She hardly remembered any of them, nor cared to. The few important faces would remain etched into her body like the scars on her ears, the mark of the Outlaws, which to her favour and fortune very few remembered.

It was stupid, Crow’sia. It was stupid.

OOC; I miss the good old days of Outlaw nutters. =D Crow'sia is ridiculously old, by the way. In case you're wonderin'.

[mystery]

ooc: i think i've got that with your latest roleplay...

mystery snapps her head around, the vehemence of her train of thought lost in cold fury. anger flickers at the edges of her night-blue orbs, which are quickly becoming cold and hard.
"i am no longer a child," she whispers, voice dangerously calm. "i do not play games. i know exactly what i am talking about-outlaws live on their own, not dependant on some stupid stallion to take care of them. they are dangerous, known for their hardiness and survival skills."
she pauses, then continues, her voice slow and emotionless. "i know what it is to be dangerous. i know what it is to have to live on your own, dependant on yourself and only yourself. i know what it is to survive."
the worst of her anger controlled-a struggle to do-and fading, she takes a deep, shaky breath and turns to stare at the horizon. she whips her dreambox around and tears viciously at her tail, letting the strands of black and khaki hair fall from her mouth before dropping the single strand of grass that was caught in it.
"i need to run. it was...interesting...meeting you." her words are clipped, the voice of an angry secretary who daren't shout at her boss for fear of being fired. "i do not know if i will see you again."
mystery picks one hoof up deliberately, placing it squarely on the hard earth in front of her. she tenses, muscles vibrating for the gallop to come, and throws back her head. her eyes are shut, her maw open slighlty; she lets loose a soft sound as if she is being prevented from running.
then she whips her dreambox back down until it is even with her shoulders, stretched out to its full length with her ears pinned back against the skull. she seems to crouch, as if she is preparing for a leap, and suddenly springs into a blur-her gallop, a fast-beaten run that keeps her longing for more energy at the end. she pumps strong pillars, daggers digging into the gallopable(is this a word?) earth and thrusting her forward.
into the rest of the world...
into her destiny.
((can mystery start up the outlaws again, but differently? only mares, no stallions?))

[Crow'sia]

CROW’SIA
open the past

Crow’sia narrowed her eyes, pulling them closer. Listening, her heart racing, two demons squaring off one with the dust of centuries and the other the glimmer of days. She had continued her spiel and said absolutely nothing else, taking in the disgusting words, and she trembled with absolute insult. And Crow’sia of course had taken a few steps back, she had steadied herself, and the ignorance of youth seemed to be lifted briefly from her mind. Until Mystery ran.

At her age she would not have been able to dare catch up had she not immediately and instinctively taken flight as well. Crow’sia’s throat stung with the continuing stress of the day, pulled taught, the noise that erupted was like two glaciers scraping together though the pitch climbed and changed dramatically very quickly. She was screaming to hell, which was actually becoming rather common. She probably could have been the poster child for madness… if she was actually a child. Her feet and the earth pound together, melodically and did little to make magical the racket which erupted from inside. Within a few flicks of the tail she swung her body around to cut the mare off, bracing for a collision. Not waiting for the results Crow’sia jumped back and side stepped, placing herself as strategically as she could in an attempt to blockade any attempted run.

“Rebellious squaws are not Outlaws. Not the Outlaws that were here. You’ll not live up to them with those thoughts, stupid dreams,” she hissed, although this was mostly a result of her lack of breath. Crow’sia’s sides heaved, vertigo had returned to her and the world melted into a twist of colour fading in and out of focus. She paid utmost attention to the ground beneath her feet, digging them into the mesh of old, tangling grass while making sure not to be caught. Hardly pausing she inhaled and spoke through grated teeth. “I will not see you destroy Denizen’s legacy.” Then, sparkling with mild satisfaction, she stopped playing as a shadow.

“My promise.”

Mystery might have reminder her of herself once. Completely eager and completely committed. Scoffing, Crow’sia peddled forward, and away. And without truly realizing she made in the direction of the Shores, the soft rushing call of the ocean, and the metallic scent of heated sand.

OOC; She may do whatever she pleases. However, you might be met by opposition from Kinny and Hazel (Hazel is no longer here though) who originally thought of the ‘Outlaw’ plot, but I don’t think they’ll mind. Don’t worry about this anyways, it is not copying when one takes an old plot and sort of build upon it, so to speak. ‘Open the past’! XD Mystery is free to attempt to start a female outlaw revolution if she pleases.
I’m not sure how many females will listen, since the territories in NSE are mostly no longer patriarchal and females (OOC anyways) are encouraged to claim territories since they are in fact the real leaders in the wild. =D But… she can try. I’m sure there’s some horsie nutters out there with dreams of glory.

[mystery]

(( :) thanks))

mystery squealed in anger as the older mare headed her off, desperately trying to stop in time. she barely managed to, and her ears pinned back at crow'sia's words.
"i seek to destroy no legacy-only to refresh the memory of what once was. i doubt any can stop me," she snapped, and took off again, ignoring the fact that she had just-most likely-made an enemy.
she was now on towards an unknown land, a territory unclaimed by a stallion at present. the sorraia fully intended to take it for herself: yet, she knew she might have some trouble hanging on to the lands. she would build her herd, one entirely of mares; and then, maybe, she would introduce one stallion.
possibly.
but more likely, just keep the fillies or grown mares coming in-appeal to their sense of adventure, trying to make it on their own without the impeding "help" of a stallion.
she pumped strained pistons faster, spacing her hoofprints wider apart.
would she make it?
it was worth a try.
to: an open terra