P.erdure

[lucifer]

.:.B.eseech thee do I, oh S.alted breeze.:.

You could see the very change of soul, of battered history, as a wave within his sinew reflected the same that rolled upon the shore. Though lungs do scream in the scolding salted breeze, he forced the water-thick air into his chest with intensity, deeming them accepting of the heaviness, bidding them to take the plentiful oxygen with greed, as if he'd been deprived by the heights. He graced his lineage that size was not scaled to enormity as far as his build was concern. The perfect proportion between sleek and strength, so smoothly now did hooves find the cushioned sand. His motion now was slow, joints so did crack with adjustment from hardened rock to giving terrain, maybe so the letting loose of something within spirit that so deemed him by name. But only he would hope, for never truly would he evade the grasp. Now, was freedom from the binds that strap him to the precipices, that hold him to the sky, for within blood too lay the horizon free of shards, only littered by coughing clouds.

Oh, but no means are viable for one to assume him a stranger to such a land. By his dam does he hold the torrent of ocean, and too does he hold his mind as well, yet never too true until this point, where time and thought were folding into one another, and a simple sigh marked this being. His walking gait so soon to press all limbs into the sand, found flight, not in fear, but in freedom. With an easy four beat gallop doth he now send his pallid frame. The muscles of his back, toned to the climb, now stretched in the run, and thanked him so for this. Legs of bulging sinew too found their extension and let his speed grace tem. This was a land untouched by claimage, and so be it remain, for freedom is all it had to offer, and freedom was all he had to take.

Oh, but the sand soon tired in its effort to let adrenaline rush, so his stride did so tilt to cut into the waves as they licked upon land. Chilled droplets dispersed in frenzie at his hoove's interruption, flying madly to cling his his flared nose and send the salted substance into eyes, by this only he blinked as his his color changed from cream to a pinkened hue whilst skin was exposed, yet still cream by his genetics, a lucky trait it is, his pigment, so that it still was protected from the unforgiving sun. His locks were strewn outward, waving with rhythm of the ocean as she let her sighs roll onward. The breeze and liquid cooled him into a slower motion as he let the moment slip as time began to turn once again. Now gait was at an uphill three beat pattern, still splashing amongst the endless water. He then let his limbs lift into a draft type trot typical to his breed, pressing with strength into each stride, and for only a few paces before he halted, leaning back onto his haunches in a controlled levade of sorts before his pink front hooves sliced into the wettened sand, being sucked lighty as the water receded and came upon once more.

He was, in his profound glory, a stallion. And, though unknown to any others in this land, this was something of such longing now having been set into action. Not the running, water, air, but the freedom, the chains had long rusted and were now dangling in shredded metal at his feet, defeated were the boulders upon his shoulders, for now in mind at least. His neck now arched as his eyes traced the sea into nothingness, the one of blue taking pleasure into its churning reflection as the mother of its origin lay so solidly in sight, whereas there was nothing but the rippled surface. Distant was his mind, yes, but not unaware, his harks did flick so tediously, nostrils did flare, but eyes were lost to the captivation before him. His dial peeled from the trance to eye the surroundings, for he now not cared as this was not his, was not anybodies, but was here for but the purpose of being. And so he be.

[twilight]

A second stallion now entered upon the land. Mane and tail flew in the beach breeze, being tossed back and forth like a ship at sea. Nostrils flared, and orbs burned with anger. His hooves pounded the ground, and he appeared evil. More so than he ever did before.

He was angry at nothing in particular, but at the same time everything. He had no home, no friends, not even a reason to live. He now stood upon the beach, staring out into the sea. He wished to jump out into the see, and drown himself to be forever without worry. But his body was holding him back, he couldn't do it. As if he had a reason to live.

But what? All hope, all light, all reason, everything had left him long ago. Deserted on an abandoned island a little of a beach, alot like this one. He was a young foal, and had barely made it onto the shore. Many horses passed by, but all left him there to die. Now this beach, while not the same one, but similar, was bringing back those terrible memories.

Now, as he prepared to run into the ocean, so all memories would leave him forever, and he would be in peace, he noticed yet another being upon the soft, sandy shores. A lost mare, perhaps? But nay, as he moved closer, he saw it was but another stallion. Nightsteed, for that was his calling, stopped where it was. Should he approach? He wished for a friend... But he knew most stallions did not favor the presence of another, so he stayed where he was. Only watching, wondering.

He soon turned back to the sea. Should he go, should he stay? His mind was in turmoil, and he did not know what to do. An hour had passed since he had first set hoof on this sand, two, perhaps? Time seemed to go by slower, every second seemed a minute, and every minute an hour. He just stood, alone yet not alone, upon that beach. Waiting. For what, it is known by only one; Time.

[lucifer]

.:.I H.eed your call, but you so L.ie .:.

Lost, yet found within the same lapse of time. He'd taste the Sweet, but it had now dissolves at his tongue into the once more stale breath. He was calm, eyes so very docile, even behind the glassy orbs were the waves stilled. Only these internal torrents were soon to churn as mind's senses grasped identity other than that of nature. His gaze, though seeking, failed to recover the sight of the other being until his nose whispered so softly in which direction he would be found. And so found was this creature, that of masculinity, and disturbed. He could see it in the twitch of his muscles 'neat the ebon pelt, in the way in which he walked, and stopped, in the movement of his nostrils, and in the depths of his eyes.

Funny, here stand, though distant, the image of the opposite. At water's edge stands the white, with a cool collection and contentment, and at the sand's beckoning stands the black, polished by turmoil and anger. But how so familiar would that sight have been in Lucifer ever did do glance into a mirror when in younger days. He noted that this male had crazed notions in mind, until his eyes found another's, and hesitation so enveloped the black male. Lucifer pivoted upon his haunches, leaving the ocean at his back, and strolled with a calm dominance toward the male. Nothing of aggression, nor either of interest, for he played his facade to that of interpretable, so one may not no whether to fear, or accept, they be left only to wait and linger upon what his intention may be.

The signs that the male before him so held with heightened ferocity were something that could be of concern. He did not have concern, though knowing what it may be that this frenzy of a horse was planning. He stopped his motion a good bit aways. Standing with a proud carriage, and eyed the horse with but a raised brow. Not one was he much to strike the first words, but this was his day of change, so change he did.

"Behind your eyes be suicide, truly does she, the ocean, call you so? What anger lies thick upon the breeze, it is toxic to the mind." His smooth tones with their characteristic drawl were soft, low, as calm as his physical state. This brute be not a few years younger than he, but this he knew that a few years ago such fire may have resided within. It was a horrid thing to let the mind be eaten by flame, for it deemed one helpless to sensible thought. Therefore, with this minute understanding he felt obliged to take something into himself, plus this be yet the only horse yet seen upon the beach, and he wished not to have his mood ruined by some crazy antic of another stallion. [/color] [/font]

[twilight]

The other horse's cool, calm compsure, his soft way of speaking, cut like ice into Nigh's fiery mood. For a moment, he continued staring into the lulling depths of the ocean. He could not bring himself to do it. Not now, not ever. A sigh escaped his maw, and he then turned to Lucifer, and replied;

"Is it that obvious?" He first said, a small hint of amusement hidden beneath the resentment, anger, and pain., "What anger, you ask me? The world. The world itself is suicide for the soul. Abandonment at birth, being left to die on a small beach much like this one." He paused, wishing not to think of this memories, "The world is cruel. Is it not better to just be rid of it, than to live as a loner, anger swallowing up your every move?" Any little bit of bitterness that had left, came back in that small question.

A second sigh, this time more audible, escaped his lips. Who was this horse? He appeared to be a loner, as he was himself, but he appeared content. No anger showed in his calm compsure, is quiet voice. Why was he not angry with the cruel way of the world?

He turned back to the ocean, staring at the salty waters. He then turned away, this time his whole body, and not just his head. Suicide would not happen this day.

[lucifer]

.: I W.ish not tell again, my W.ords have long expired .:.

The sand beneath him was dampened as the breeze flicked water away from his pelt. Mane clung to his neck in small waves, and he gave his neck a shake to free the tendrils from his flesh. His harks swiveled before settling on the words emitted from this male's mouth. He gave a loose laugh, though expression was unchanged. "Your mood bleeds though the pores of your hide, oblivion be a needless comment. " And come the coming of question, allotting him the freedom to contemplate and let sigh of his opinion within the tones of his throat. And so let the voice that was his mind find the ocean air.

"Aye, the world is cruel, but have you not thought of why it so stabs us with hate? When angered we too as equine find cruelness, thus nature in her entiriy is an angered force. She is everything, yet nothing, for when ever does the sea trod upon the cliffs, or the moutons fly freely o're the sandy beaches, or do the trees with their tangles arms find to freely move elsewhere. Yes, we may not control the tides or move the sun, but we are free. The world, in spite may spit at us from their bondage, and we may fall to our knees to its angered wrath, but still, a species of flight, we may taunt the waters, the rocks, with a smirk upon our maw. We are of flesh and blood, able to breath as well as bleed, with pain or joy, we feel and in that it is but only the essence of living. A fool is one to cave to nature's tricks, for she is a wise force, and does so love to hear the cry of a broken soul so as to add your once living carcass to her earth or water. She created us, and she wants us back with vengeance, because we have all that she does not. The world so in itself is jealous."[/color]

See what happens when his mind transmits through words? Still tone was barely audible, serious, and spoken with ease. Ah, he could nearly laugh at himself, for such contradiction were his words to his previous way of living, but through experience does one find some sense in the unexplained pains of living. Still he held some same angers toward all that bid him pain, but he still could flaunt his beating heart and pulsing veins. He'd learned now that regret and grudge are the root of what pain comes to others, or to himself, and though it is known, it is not always avoided. What a web they did live in, like the flies wrapped in wrath of the spider. [/font][/color]

[twilight]

Silence fell upon Nigh, as he thought about the worlds spoken by the cream-colored horse standing in front of him. This horse was right, of course. His knowledge suprised him, for this horse looked alot younger than his words seemed to say.

But could he, Nightsteed, actually let go of this anger? The hate? The pain? Was it possible that the 5 years of hatred, could jsut be let go of? But as he thought, he realized it wasn't the question whether or not he could or should do it, but if he would do it.

Opening his maw, he spoke again, this time no bitterness crept along the edge of his words, "Can I truly just... let it go? The anger that has been my way of living for these many years? It does not seem a task that can be done in the matter of hours." He paused, remembering he did not yet know this horses name, "What is your calling?" he then asked, and the waited, the breeze still pulling his mane and tail back and forth, and the waves crashing at the shore.

[lucifer]

F.orgetting; it's your own L.oss .:.

He let his chest inflate with a rush of air, then released the warmed substance back into the world. He shook his head, neck lowered a bit and he let his gaze fall upon the male. "This I say to a horse I've only just met. No. You, nor I, nor any living creature upon this earth can just let anger go. Once it has seeped into the blood, the brain, you live with it until you live no more. Simply, you learn to live with the sensation, control the fire behind thine eyes, and a partnership between you, and anger will meld together. It does take time, but more so a decision on the part of the horse himself of allowing this hatred to reside within whilst not letting it gnaw at your soul"

It was like keeping an unruly pet, tied by hand with a short leash. And when let go, it caused havoc upon those that it touched. Best buy a leash of steel and a muzzle at that so as the flames don't flare from the nose or ears, don't transmit through the hooves or teeth. Balance was what it was, and hard was it to keep when weight was uneven at wither side of the scale, teetering dangerously in favor of an opposite intention. Practice perhaps, but it was an unstable aspect of personality. "Lucifer that's what is said by others' tongue, so I suppose you may take to the calling as well. What of you, stallion?"[/color]
[/font][/color]

[twilight]

"Nightsteed." He replied quietly, thinking about what Lucifer had just told him. Time... Thats what it took, wasn't it? Well, time was all he had. He had no home, no place to go, no friends. Time was plentiful... But Nigh was having a hard time with whether or not he wanted to let go of it. It was all he had, and while it was not good to have anger, what else would he have if he let it go?

Shaking his head, he looked back to the water. A few minutes ago, he had considered drowning himself in the rolling and crashing waves, forever to be at peace in the see. But now he was thinking about letting go of the anger he had held onto for so long. He had no idea it was possible for so much to change in so little time.

And there it comes back to again. Time. The essence of living, of breathing, of being. Maybe he would let go of it... Underneath the pain, he knew he was sick of living in anger. Five years was too long... Time would not keep him alive forever. It was time to let go.

Slowly, he turned from the see to face Lucifer again, "Maybe I will let go of it. It has taken control of my life for too long. Too long...." He let his sentence trail off into the air, to be swept away by the ocean breeze.

[lucifer]

.:.T.ruth be found in T.hought, but R.arely found in T.ongue.:.

Aye, time...If thought over too long, as it itself passes, one will drive themselves mad. Time like the little brother, forcing useless questions into mind, never tiring from its annoyance, but if you learn the art of blocking the force from thought, then it so resides like the sleeping dog at the foot of the bed, where its chest will rise and fall in tune with your own. "Nightsteed, It is not time, nor pain that so sits upon our backs, they hold no reins, no control, as long as you bid them to do not. Wise a choice it is to test your own control." He bobbed his head but once at the stallion.

Eyes along with his roman head tilted toward the waters, catching some of the earlier captivation, yet remaining in tune with his current social situation. Funny thing, he speaks without musing over what has been said, not is it that he already knows, because he simply understands...and with understanding, he need not think about the words flicked from tongue, they be stored in mind to chew on when boredom drapes o'er his pallid frame.[/color]

[twilight]

To this, Nightsteed said nothing. He only thought about the words. So much thinking he had done in the past couple hours! Thinking whether or not to drown himself, then thinking about letting go of his anger... He never thought he'd thought so much before.

But, of course, Lucifer was right, again. Nightsteed wondered why this horse, who appeared so young, knew so much. He decided to voice this questions aloud, and spoke, "How is it you act older than your years?" Nigh knew he was younger than this horse. But Lucifer couldn't be so much older than him. Could he?

OOC// Shoot... Im sick and can't think. Im also not making much since "He never thought he'd thought so much before." o.o

[lucifer]

.:.The W.aves scream of restless W.inds .:.

Sinew protested in lack of movement and he swatted slightly to shift his weight and flick a few tight muscles. His mane now stuck stiffly out as the salty residue was left upon drying. For a few moments, only the breeze,waves,gulls, and the collective breathing of the two were audible. In that moment he allowed his eyes to shut, only longer than a blink, but enough to take everything in without the interruption that the mind finds with sight. The scents, sounds, sensation was so far enhanced when the eyes were left to stare into the darkness of eyelids. He sucked in a slow breath of the salted air as the male spoke his question, and let a smirk or smile perhaps draw onto his lips. "The body ages with time. " He lifted a leg to paw at the sand, a light motion of muscle as he placed it back to hold his weight. "The mind...ages with experience"[/color]
He tilted his heavy head, orbs finding those of the black stallion. His airy words were left at that, without further elaboration, for they very words spoken by him found voice in their own.[/font][/color]

[twilight]

The breeze began to get cooler, making Nightsteed shiver a bit, even under his warm coat. The waves were still crashing... forever to go on without a care. If only life was as simple as the crashing of waves on the beach, or the breeze that moved through his mane.

But it wasn't, and that's why Nigh was here. The beach would forever give him bad memories... but maybe it could give him a good memory too. The memory of meeting Lucifer on this beach... the memory of choosing to let go instead of hold on. Maybe.

Turning back to the receding waves, he murmured into the air, "Experience..." He sighed once more, and nodded his head as if in agreement with what Lucifer had said, which was indeed what he was nodding too.

"Do you not have a home to go to? While you stand upon this sand talking to me... Does not one wise as you have a herd?" He unepectedly asked, and then was embarassed for speaking without thinking. He was full of questions about everything and everyone, but he often asked them without thinking first.

[lucifer]

.:.The M.ind has said too much, so W.atch it fly away .:.

Velvet tipped harks flicked with minuscule movement, his head and frame were motionless but for the steady expanding and deflating of his lungs that echoed in his chest and flanks. A small steam of his body heat rose as the air cooled. His eyes settled on the brute as he turned once more tot he waves as they lapped at the sand. The male let a faint sigh of his words, and then those throaty sounds were ceased momentarily. He let his dial tilt slightly as now new words hit his delicate ears, and he paused only shortly in thought before his lips too opened to the autumn air. "I am as in this moment, on the beach with a new acquaintance. No, I do not call residence in any terrain here, I do not stand before a harem. And I am unsure as to when or why that shall change."

His blades lifted in a slight shrug. He'd come here for a reason, but that reason had been found...now what more? Perhaps to set further goals than that of freedom? He simply to bide to form a tolerance among a lead figure of these terrains, or perhaps, if he had more reason, challenge to make something his own. Aye, but not much though had gone into this matter, but now it seemed to seep into mind having been brought up. "Under a weak assumption, you are but a wanderer as well"[/color] His tone was meekly raised in a question, though came across more as a known statement. He flicked his tassel and fell into his cool expression.[/font][/color]