Post by GB on Mar 24, 2011 6:58:34 GMT -5
They had said goodbye at the edge of the meadow. Or, rather, he had said goodbye to the little charcoal filly at her side, and the little filly had sobbed her own fond farewell. Bradhadair had said nothing; she hadn't even watched him walk away.
She walked down the meadow as if she were dancing, her tiny, dainty body moving lightly and gracefully. Iniontine, like a little shadow at her side, had an echo of her mother's grace - one day, Bradhadair mused, Ini could be beautiful. But it went against the grain to ever tell her so.
Her own burnished copper coat gleamed in the gentle midmorning sun. Her crimson mane blew like a feather-soft banner along the crest of her neck, arched artfully to enhance it's lines. Her tail was held high, in the Arabian fashion typical of her breeding, and even Bradhadair had to admit, she looked well today. And looking good always stoked the fires of Bradhadair's vanity. For in beauty, there was power.
Ini looked back over her night-sky shoulder. She could not longer see the carbon-coloured silhouette of her elder brother any more. She felt a little lost without his presence, as though she were all alone. Which was silly, her mother was here with her. But without the quiet calm and sensibility of Branach, she knew it was only a matter of time before her mother did something.
Something scary.
Although, what was worse, was that, sometimes? Ini felt just as angry and full spite as her mother. And THAT was scary.
He had reasoned with her. No new herd would come to claim her and her mother with a tall, heavily built stallion hanging around them. He looked nothing like their mother - how would anyone assume her was her son? And really, even his scent hanging around them could put off prospective claimers... and yet he'd stayed as long as he could, just for Ini.
Bradhadair noticed, with a flicker of annoyance, that Ini was beginning to lag behind. She snaked her head around, her ears pinning back, just for a moment.
"Keep up," she hissed, "Or I'll leave you to trail after that big brute you admire so much."
Ini started, and hurried after her mother.
Bradhadair came to a sudden halt, on a small incline partway down the meadow. She could smell other horses strongly here. She raised her pretty little head, and let a high-pitched call sound out over the vicinity. Ini huddled closer, and she had to suppress a snort. Calm for now, Bradhadair, she told herself, charm and charisma until we are settled.... and then, you can begin.
She walked down the meadow as if she were dancing, her tiny, dainty body moving lightly and gracefully. Iniontine, like a little shadow at her side, had an echo of her mother's grace - one day, Bradhadair mused, Ini could be beautiful. But it went against the grain to ever tell her so.
Her own burnished copper coat gleamed in the gentle midmorning sun. Her crimson mane blew like a feather-soft banner along the crest of her neck, arched artfully to enhance it's lines. Her tail was held high, in the Arabian fashion typical of her breeding, and even Bradhadair had to admit, she looked well today. And looking good always stoked the fires of Bradhadair's vanity. For in beauty, there was power.
Ini looked back over her night-sky shoulder. She could not longer see the carbon-coloured silhouette of her elder brother any more. She felt a little lost without his presence, as though she were all alone. Which was silly, her mother was here with her. But without the quiet calm and sensibility of Branach, she knew it was only a matter of time before her mother did something.
Something scary.
Although, what was worse, was that, sometimes? Ini felt just as angry and full spite as her mother. And THAT was scary.
He had reasoned with her. No new herd would come to claim her and her mother with a tall, heavily built stallion hanging around them. He looked nothing like their mother - how would anyone assume her was her son? And really, even his scent hanging around them could put off prospective claimers... and yet he'd stayed as long as he could, just for Ini.
Bradhadair noticed, with a flicker of annoyance, that Ini was beginning to lag behind. She snaked her head around, her ears pinning back, just for a moment.
"Keep up," she hissed, "Or I'll leave you to trail after that big brute you admire so much."
Ini started, and hurried after her mother.
Bradhadair came to a sudden halt, on a small incline partway down the meadow. She could smell other horses strongly here. She raised her pretty little head, and let a high-pitched call sound out over the vicinity. Ini huddled closer, and she had to suppress a snort. Calm for now, Bradhadair, she told herself, charm and charisma until we are settled.... and then, you can begin.
