-{ All the things she said }-

[putrefaction]

Mother looking at me. Tell me what do you see?

Sauntering across the hard, cold ground the mahogany mare surveyed the abode surrounding her, dark orbs watched carefully for signs of other equines, despite the fact all other’s scents were scattered and weak. Flinging her heavy head up, Esq cried out into the black night air, her skull silhouetted against the pale blue moon, long traces of dark mane wrapped round her thick neck and whipped across her broad back. The desolate cry carried far on the dry icy wind, it sounded so hollow … so cheerless.

Yes, I’ve lost my mind.

The sound of her own cry cut the night song short and she snorted distastefully and stomped a furry foot, crushing the frosty grass beneath it. Pivoting to the left, Esq sighed and blinked slowly, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek … Butterfly kisses … re-opening her eyes the dark mare looked towards a slightly forested area and began walking over to it slowly, her heavy hooves dragging slowly.

Daddy looking at me. Will I ever be free?

With a despairing sigh the heavyset mare eased onto her knees and lay her head down, letting sleep wrap its cold fingers round her mind… the stallion turned his ugly head towards her, the wild eyes laughing … “Mother?” she asked tentatively, the huge black dogs looked up with blood dripping from their faces… she stumbled onwards, blood streaming from gaping wounds, she was hurting in places she dare not speak…the stallions truck like form ploughed into her young body, at once he was everywhere, biting and slashing with his teeth and hooves… her mothers scent lingered everywhere, particularly around what the dogs were feasting on… she fell hard onto her knees, nothing could be worse than this… his huge form was atop of her, crushing her babyish legs to the ground, she cried over and over for him to stop…she stood alone on the mountain top, her eyes dull and emotionless, inside she was so torn up… the stallion turned and left, his black tail flagging high in the wind, he had left his mark here…

Have I crossed the line?

[Crow'sia]

“This ain’t right, it ain’t quite right.”

Zoal wasn’t mumbling to himself for any particular reason, it just seemed the thing to do. Perhaps in this he was a nutter, his psyche may have snapped long ago; but why live and deny yourself the simple pleasures of life? Nope, he would much rather go through his days rambling and humming to himself then remaining silent- dead inside. He tossed his head, clearing the thoughts that clouded there, like feathers they drifted out and away to the ground. The air was heavy and cold, while a warmer temperature for the season, the night seemed to sap all heat from the earth, the moon absorb it. The moon of course, now being the only light; where had the stars gone, were the consumed by some unworldly beast? Zoal’s coat appeared as a shimmering black, a deep violet under the inconsistent lighting, and oddly enough, he longed for day. These hours were too fickle, too devious; they played tricks on his sight and havoc with his ears. Was that a scream he’d heard, or a mere call? Perhaps it was his imagination, or the creature that devoured the stars that made such an empty cry, a cold metallic sound. “It’s just not right.”

Like a part of the chilling sound, a cold shiver slithered down his rump and leg until it met with the ground. Zoal raised his head to look where the moon was slowly consumed when another plump drop hit him beneath the eye. Rain? By all measure it should be haling, snowing, but not raining! Another drop fell onto him and then another until a light yet constant patter established itself; tears from above. It melted the delicate coating of frost covering the grass beneath his feet. That was a difference between the fields and much of the other territories, not everything was charred. But this land wasn’t free from its destruction, and it was surprising Zoal had chosen to cross with place when he’d left the beaches, that stallion had died here; that stranger. Not within his horizon of sight but the young male could smell it, the scars on the trees, the ash that covered the forest’s floor, tearing fauna up from its roots. Out of nowhere, he began to sing, and mumble incoherent lines once more. Where had he heard the words, the tunes, and the music that he often spun? Those twoleggers maybe, or perhaps it was from a dream; horses and humans certainly could not translate one another languages. “Bitch, we have got a problem.”

The fields soon broke into a small forested area, one which appeared much smaller than where his trauma had take effect and lacked the traces of fire. Maybe again he’d hit a tree in blind run and fall into the void of death, but Zoal couldn’t think that way, it was in the past, the prospect of the void, the brush he’d had with the grim reaper, a harvester of souls (haha Zoal, soul, it rhymes ^^). It had shown his how mortal he was, how sickly, how desperately, how spirit damned fallible! “Hey you, you’re saying that she’s all that you desire- liar!” His foot, or rather angle, slipped across something soft, with a very plush feel to it, fur? He jumped back in distress. What if it were some dead thing!

No. Another dark body, although sheltered by the few trees became visible to him. He could hear its breath and smell its life (you know, it wasn’t all rotting), certainly this… female… were alive. If not the wind was playing tricks and she’d only just passed into another realm, or into nothing. “Shut up!” he screeched, before the mental shields of his brains could leap into action and cut him off. Oh gods, the stranger had broken him!

[Meg]

.camisado
She told me, that he told her, that they told him that;
"You are a whore."

Yes, he did. He followed that steed clear to the Lush Feilds from the Beach. No, this wasn't an ordinary steed. This steed was his friend, (or so Camisado thinks) for they had such a lovely conversation. They were the bestest of friends ever! How could Camisado just walk away...without knowing his dearest friend's name? He saw his beloved friend afar, paused and yelling about something. With a toss of his thick skull, a small nicker left him as he trotted forward, his dark eyes watching intently. Apon approach, his auds snapped back at his friend's harsh words; “Shut up!” He flinched, his eyes closing for a moment. And a vivid picture of his father popped up before his eyes for no reason. Stepping back, he opened his eyes and smiled. Looking down he saw a mare. If he had eyebrows; on would be raised in confusion. What was going on? Nevermind, it didn't matter. Swishing his long tail to and fro, he gazed happily at his friend, his eyes worried about the look and actions on his friend's face. What was wrong? He seemed upset at the beach, but now he seemed disturbed. Had this mare done the damage. Anger flashed in his eyes; no one messes with his friends!

A slight clucking sound came from his maw, and a disapproving glare from his usually soft eyes. And an included stomp of his mighty hoof on the turf was given to the fae that rested on the ground. He stood tall, looked like a draft..But truth was, he was a mutt of a horse. No one truelly knew what was in his genes. So he couldn't say he was draft and proud of it and be able to look down upon her. As his eyes roamed disapprovingly over her...beautiful heavy set body; he blinked. He thought she was pretty? No, she was a hateful mare that he must insult for upsetting his dear friend. Taking his eyes off her body, he looked at his friend, confused slightly. He was about to insult the mare for upsetting the other steed; but who knows what pissed his friend off? Stepping back, Camisado pushed himself out of the circle of events; the warmth from their bodies vanished and left him slightly shivering as tiny droplets of rain fell on his whitish body.

Lowering his thick skull, he gazed at the grasses beneth his huge hooves, there were many other hoofprints in the mud and grass. Many horses used to come here. Lifting his skull, he looked over the land slightly; it looked like a war had been raged here. What had happened? The sharp scent of burnt wood...mixed with a scent that made him scrunch his mug up in distast; floated out on the breeze. It was there one moment, and gone the next. Taking a fresh breath of air, he looked back to his friend. Remembering what he had followed him here for; Camisado's grin stretched on his face, and his eyes grew bright. He chuckled softly, then stretched his mug out, brushing the steed's mug (not knowing cause and effect) his ever so soft words forming, "Hello again."

That was it. "Hello again."... How gay can a homophobic get? Very gay I guess, seeing how he had literally 'stalked' the steed here...just to find out his name. The truth was, Camisado was eager for friends. He craved it, and ever since they had a rather small conversation on the beach, he had felt he had finally found a friend...And he had to cling to him. Little did he know, he was making a complete and utter fool of himself. He was acting like a gay little horse that liked boys. Which he was terrified of, oh well. So what is this steed's name anyway? I mean, he knows his own name, certainly. But can't Camisado know his name too? Aw, Camisado had a friend! Well, how long can this last? Five more mintues until the other steed blows up in his face for following him? Or will the other steed accept him as a friend? Camisado stook his heavy skull, these questions fluttered out of his ears. He was so strange, always worrying ever little thing, thinking of everything; right down to the detail. His eyes rolled over the mare that laid down. It was so interesting, first time he met this steed, he too was laying down. Now he met a mare laying down... Was there something Camisado needed to know? Was there like; a traditon at this strange new place were horses laid down all the time, and only stood to move around places? No, that wouldn't be the case. But still, it made him wonder.
[Occ Aw...Rambly. *strokes*]

[stitchedskull]

(Awww.... Camisado... ^^ He sounds so sweet. Have a carrot.)

[Meg]

[occ; -nibbles on carrot- Poking this thread because she doesn't want her post to go to waste.]

[Crow'sia]

For someone usually so calculated, Zoal’s heartbeat kicked up its pass with the rain without his consent, had she stirred? No she had not; she hadn’t even twitched. He would find this odd if he were thinking straight, if the fear that tore relentlessly at his mind had taken a moment of leave, but it didn’t, and it left him weakened and irrational. His mother would have helped him get through this, she would have helped him understand, gods that bitch would make it all right again! Unfortunately she wasn’t here, and like his sister he hardly knew her. Figures the two siblings had only heard of each other. What was her name again? It wasn’t important. Besides, the mare was only a half sibling; she’d been conceived out of love, hadn’t she? Or perhaps she was adopted. Zoal’s history was evaporating before his very eyes, each year in his short life everything Rosewinged had told him became more and more vague, only a memory. He had to rid himself of this too. Forget everything! Stupid bitch. That stupid bitch. But he figured he may as well be grateful, she had brought him into this world, prepared him for it. Ney, he prepared himself!

Without mercy the rain seemed to become harder and harder now like it was feeding off his own dark thoughts. The sky, already dim under a pale moon, became a black canvas, clouds seldom outlined where they thinned. This didn’t bother Zoal, sight was not his forte, but suddenly he felt a new feeling awake inside him and moved away from the stranger mare’s still body his frame still heaving with the fury of his heartbeat, a mix of chemicals that should not exist; his mind longed to shut down. Why this sudden change of character? The animal’s cry echoed in his head.

Often times as thoughts are cut short, the stallion heard a soft voice slide into his ears, an almost seductive calming sound (haha, did that on purpose ^^) that slowed the tempo of his mind but quickened that of his heart, he’d have a heart attack if this kept up. Who was this here? The voice was so distant and yet so familiar and under the sky’s veil he could not pick out who it was. Zoal’s sense of smell seemed to be failing him but the sound reminded him of something: the splash of waves, the tang of salt water. It was that stranger from the beaches, the one he’d nearly plowed into escaping the fires, when he dipped his body into the ocean to sooth it from his wounds: the tongue of destruction. The very scabs from that incident still resided on his body, one along his leg, which he had managed to scratch at, already had the telltale signs of scarring and the course hair of his mane remained entwined and melted together. He felt so reduced, like someone had replaced his ego with a balloon and taken a lit cigarette to it, pop!

Feeling he lacked the strength to defy the stage this other stallion set Zoal was quite prepared to be complacent and return the hello in a sociable fashion, but instead he surprised even himself rounding on the male in the dark. “You again, is it?" he snarled, his brow dropping and head lowered. Zoal clenched his teeth. This was not the horse he knew, he was being irrational, he was being immature, and he has lost himself somewhere along the line. Zoal could have used an ally; he could have pressed the stranger to his limits… so why was he being so damned impulsive? All he desired to know was what this horse wanted, and if indeed he were the same peculiar creature he’d made acquaintance with on the beach. All he desired was to be normal again. To be heir to the throne.


OOC; Waste is awful, yes it is.
Aw, my Zoal. -coughforeshadowingcoughnotreallycough- ^^ Is there such thing as backwards foreshadowing? Where it points to something that would have happened; am I making sense?