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 Posted: Wed May 19, 2010 11:00 am
Elben could honestly sleep through anything. He doesn't mind nasty weather or even thunder storms. They actually will either lull him further into slumber or excite him to no end. For now he's still dozing in a small pocket of earth. This new world is so bright! Elben studies the pale flora from the comfort of gnarled root tress. A snow willow has been somewhat uprooted, just big enough for a foal of his plump, fluffy size to wiggle down into for safety. Although he's young he knows that being out in the open without an adult is a no-no. His little nose twitches as a wind blows through, making the moon jump back and forth behind some ivory willow whips up above. It isn't too scary out here although he can smell larger animals around and hear an owl at times. The owl scares him the most. Hoot hooot, hoot hooot! Elben flattens his ears against his head, cherub face crumpling in sheer infant disappointment. He wants to play out there! Out there...the flowers, the fireflies and all of those fast bunnies! Licking his lips the foal creeps out of the tuft of tall grass. His bright little eyes dart to and fro. No dangers here so far. As he climbs out into the new place the foal lifts his head and sniffs at the air. Only to have a giant raindrop land on his pert nose that very moment, thusly being vacuumed with his inhale. Elben coughs and shakes his head. Making a face to dispel the water he whimpers softly and looks around.
This place is very green and lush, but it's nothing the little boy's ever seen before. So naturally his curiosity piques. A sudden clap of thunder makes him bolt, or at least attempt to. Thin hackles rising and making him frizzy, Elben's legs lock up and spread out, tumbling him over. With wide eyes he grunts, rolling to lie on his side and gives the stormy sky a bewildered look. What was that for?! Seeing nothing out of place the foal gets to his cloven hooves and continues to walk off into the unknown. So vast, so wide spread, such freedom!
...of course, freedom for the tiny baby is but a few feet away from the makeshift shelter. Elben lowers his head to the grass and his tail sticks out. A beetle has attached itself to his nose! Lifting his head he stares at the dark orange beetle. With an excited whinny the foal turns and bounces in a circle. Oh yay, he's not alone anymore! His soft body hobbles out over some clover, stopping to shove his nose into it. Elben bristles as he leaps back, sneezing and abruptly falling over from the force of his sneeze. Face tingling from the reaction he blinks up at the sky. The moon is so lovely tonight. It's glow bathes his adolescent coat and makes the foal smile. Elben wants to hug it, it's so kind to give him light in this dark land and make the sky all pretty! His stubby forelegs shoot into the air and begin to flail. The little boy frowns, why won't the moon come down and hug him? With a tiny whine he continues to kick and thrash his forelegs, begging the lunar orb to float down for a quick cuddle. "Pwease come down? Oh pwetty pwease!" he begs and squirms among a bed of flowers that have grown next to the clover bunch.
And yet. He feels alone again. A few fat clouds border his vision, making some cold drizzle fall down upon his compact body. Elben gasps and squirms. The moon is gone now, oh dear it's gotten dark again! As Pumpkin buzzes in front of his nose the distressed foal begins to hobble. Not back to his den. Oh no. He's going to find his mama. The lad needs that warmth and affection and reassurance that his mama is alright. That he can go home soon with her, where he can proudly present Pumpkin to his parents. As it begins to shower down upon him, this despaired and freezing rain, Elben begins his feeble trek onward.
"Mama! Maaama!" a small river has begun to dip within the meadow's grooves, making it difficult for the petit foal to travel. The rain begins to hammer down now, flattening his fur against his pelt, As most of it seeps down to his skin he neighs shrilly before whimpering. Elben is a foal from the snowy mountains in the north, but he's still too young to handle such drastic weather. "Mama!" another clap of thunder deafens his adorable voice, lightning flashing in the sky. Elben flinches and his muscles jar, causing him to topple over in a rigid heap of soggy fur. Pumpkin flits around him, also struggling to remain elevated in the rain. Elben's getting pooped out. His nose and his ears are freezing while his tiny toes have gone numb. This is so pointless, to be searching frantically for your mother in the storm. Elben's a foal though, he doesn't understand this. He just understands that he wants to be kissed and held and told stories.
The bleak weather causes such din, slapping his face with goblets of cold rain. With a whine the ivory lad blinks in unadulterated sorrow. He sits up after his muscles unwind, sniffling and tapping the earth with his little frozen hooves. Eyes squinting he foal decides he'll need to get out of this rain. His lack of bodyheat will make it nearly impossible for his muscles to unwind if he locks up again. Too far from his natural house, Elben finds a giant soaked log to crawl into. Some water drips from the rim and he lifts his head to lick at the bark and drink. The small child surveys this dreary realm before him. "Mama..." his voice, so much weaker now, cracks. He sniffles and lies down on his round belly. Pumpkin roosts on his nose and it's all Elben can do to refrain from sneezing.
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Posted: Wed May 19, 2010 11:01 am
The nightly dew dampens the outer layer of his ebony coat. Dunkel flares his nostrils as he lifts his horned head from the oblivion of slumber. Faint crimson eyes scan the area. Tall grass conceals him and the little life form nearby from predators and those that would disturb the peace. It's not that the unicorn brothers have found this meadow to be their 'home'. They sleep wherever they can, but have been favoring this spot for a week. Perhaps it's been too long. Mayhap today they'd seek another sanctuary of solitude. The stallion stands slowly to shake his mane and tail free of the water droplets. He wanders a small distance into the tall grass, it tickles his belly as he shoves his way over to the stream. Lowering his maned head the bitter beast begins to suckle the cool water into his muzzle. He's the literal black sheep of what once was his family. Everyone else looked angelic and white, he turned out to be a vile obsidian shade with demonic eyes. For now he must go hunt as Elben continues to sleep, belly rumbling menacingly.
He watches the water ripple past him as he drinks. To him the land means nothing. The world is not beautiful; and that, in a way, lends it a sort of beauty. Somewhat. Hearing the melancholy cries of his depleted little brother the stallion turns. Dutifully trotting over he lowers his head to the sodden log and nuzzles the golden youth. Two months ago they were driven from their land in the mountains. Suppressing the memory the darq steed seeks out the nearby apple tree. As it were, now the storm has come over them. They've been resting all day after foraging but maybe a treat will keep Elben quiet. Dunkel glides over to said tree, body rippling, and spears a fruit with his horn. He returns to the log and arches his neck to let his kin eat. Once the apple is loose enough he snuffles over the foal. No wounds so Elben must be crying for the sake of...well, missing the herd. The eldest brother nudges his ashen nose into the pure foal, reminding him to stay low. Dunkel turns and slowly ambles off to seek a meal. By day they are in human form to mingle with the overwhelming minorities. At night they are free to take their true form. No need for any ruse as anything can survive the night. Especially darqs.
Dunkel didn't ask for this. In a herd of pure there's a small chance of a darq being born to someday watch over the herd and all the innocent. He was that small chance. Now all he has to worry about his Elben and his own hide. As he begins his promenade he can hear the anguished shouts of a burly bear. His mane and fur bristles slightly, as much as his equine body will allow. Soon the smell of blood is thick on a breeze. It doesn't perturb the stallion, it intrigues him. He is the opposite of what his kind should stand for but is far from evil, harboring his morbid delights in isolation. With a sharp look to the quivering foal he ambles off towards the source of those dying calls and the coppery scent. Then again what has the power to do such damage to an ursine being?
Float as easily as the wind, sting with the might of the bear, and dissipate as darkness in the dawn. So had it was written, and so was Tarathiel. The forest was no more of an extension of his own awareness, a projection of his mind, bended to his will by a mere thought, and if one was to intrude inside his mind, they would be hopelessly lost in the labyrinth, and their life would be equally forfeit.
Behold, a bear searches for its next meal. It labors along, sniffing the air, using all of its senses to find an edible peace of fruit, or even an animal. But lo, it does not detect Tarathiel. Either it was not hungry for Manflesh, or it simply could not smell him, one could not ascertain, but nevertheless, the beast was not the only thing that felt need to feed.
Tarathiel also was in need of food, and the bear's skin would assist greatly in the winter to come. The bird's song was silenced as the lumbering beast's roar bellowed forth as an arrow impaled itself in the side of its eye, a distorted, raspy roar, but a roar nonetheless. It turned to face its attacker, let out another roar, and was silenced, as yet another projectile flew inside its mouth, severing its brain and killing it. The great beast fell to the earth, its massive muscles gone limp against the ground.
Pleased with his work, Tarathiel crept out from the underbrush, and went to work.
The stallion pounds his way through the rumbling storm. Nostrils flared and huffing he easily discerns the site of the kill. What he finds to be the hunter makes his lips curl and his ears flatten against his horned crown. Dunkel has a distinct dislike for humans. Particularly if they're too close to his nesting site where Elben lies. As such the obsidian beast trumpets loudly, enraged and bristled with slick fur. The human looks up and is levelled with a pair of cherry eyes. Charging he again utters a war cry, meeting the human with demonic hooves and vicious snorts.
The Ranger stood up, and sheathed his knife, the bear now being mostly flayed. He brought his bow back to hand, and turned to face, and study the newcomer. From the care aggression the black unicorn shows it must feel threatened with the Ranger here. The muscle sinews of the beast were perfect in all aspects, superior to even the king's finest horses. It was a beautiful sight for the Ranger, in all reality, and one could only dream of riding such a horse. But that dream was not for Tarathiel, he preferred his own footing to flight, stealth to speed. Deciding to keep his life and spare this beast harm he carefully strips the rest of the bear hide before making an exit.
Nostrils billowing and drenched body poised to attack he watches the male leave. He licks his lips as he saunters over towards the arrow protruding from the exquisite eye. Dunkel snuffles over the furry, bleeding face apathetically before snorting at it. The darq's forked tongue lashes out to test the bleeding surface. Not bad, not bad...his tongue continues lapping for a time as though the gouged eyeball were a common salt-lick. Once his tongue brushes against the arrow he tenses and recalls just how the arrow had gotten there. Muscles loosening again the stallion burrs contentedly. Slightly sharp teeth tighten around the projectile's shaft as he wrenches his horned head, mane sweeping aside. From within the eye socket the eye's muscles stretch until torn. The eyeball pops out and Dunkel drops the arrow with his treat at its tip. Nostrils flaring to take in the rustic scent he bites down. A warm, gel-like liquid spurts from between his teeth until obscenely suckled back into the unicorn's mouth. Finding a chewy portion he gnaws on it like a bovine would with cud. And all awhile the storm continues to stroke his pelt.
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Posted: Wed May 19, 2010 11:04 am
[For anyone who's curious, the song is "Anarchy" by KMFDM. No, not sure how Dusk would know this song. Yarhar.]
Dusk has plunged herself into a humid, murky area. She's always been drawn to swamps and the like. The gurgle of the mucky waters, the screeching insects,the hiss of a gator, cries of startled critters and of course, other unicorns. The anarchist seeks other equines due to her alarmingly high level of destruction. That and she wishes to make herself a few daydreams. As her light hooves squish through the ground she can smell blood up ahead. It's a b***h to try and locate the source of the smell. In the swamp the thick air and belching gases make everything else hazy. Dusk's hips snap from side to side as she briskly seeks out the bleeding animal. Up ahead is a young male wolf, a bachelor by the looks of it, sniffing at a swamp deer. With a wicked grin the cannimare snorts and lunges. He snarled when she rolled over onto him, effectively pinning the small wolf, he did not stop though, jaws snapping closed over her hind leg and viciously grating his fangs to rip, though he stopped when she had ripped at his ear. He snarled and struggled quickly, getting out from beneath the female and turning his back to her for a moment and was swatted on his snout with her tail when she loped by. Shaking his head and sneezing from that, he growled at her before building up speed by trotting around his kill once, twice, then sped out of the area to escape the eccentric nightmare.
With the small male leaving she snickers once he circled the prey. Oh yes. Circling it will magically keep her away from the kill. Fat chance of that happening. As soon as she could no longer hear those dainty paws in the bushes, Dusk plods towards the dead stag. She rips open its chest and greedily shoves her snout inside, snorting like a drug addict. The coppery scent of blood is so enticing as is carrion. Her gaping jaws enclose upon the most dire organ of life. The heart. Wrenching her head back the heart's arteries snap and spurt blood as she shakes it eagerly, like a pup might do to a helpless little animal. Tail flicking she chews on the heart, feeling it burst within her mouth as blood drizzles down her throat and creamy chest. The lone rogue pants softly, colors bursting behind her eyes as she seems to glow with delight. Something pounds within her chest. It's her own heart and it feels like it's trying to get out. She knows exactly what this means. As she eats her fill the femme doesn't eat too much. Circling the rest of the dead animal, she begins to sing a chilling tune with her macabre voice.
"Break my back...you won't break me. All is black...but I still see. Shut me down, knock me to the floor...shoot me up, ******** me like a whore." vulgar, but when isn't she? The she-devil begins to tear at the stag's throat further to weaken it after singing the first verse, soon wrenching at the antlers until her strength rips off the stag's head, tossing it off into the bushes. Her song continues as does her destructive dance, "Trapped under ice, comfortably cold, I've gone as low as you can go. Fell no remorse, no sense of shame, time's gonna wash away all pain. I made a god, out of blood. Not superiority. I killed the king of deciet...now I sleep in anarchy, anarchy."
Again she begins to destroy the body. The legs are torn off next and flung in the far corners of the earth. Her song is nearly over as she rips open the stags belly, visceral materials strewn across the marsh floor, "Sacrifice...to the cause. Turn your code...into law. Compensate....to validate the loss. Take a thief, nail him to a cross. Gospel of rage, faction of hate, deviate from the absolute. Born of revenge, raised on cement, chaos created government. I made a god, out of blood. Not superiority. I killed the king of deceit...wake me up in anarchy, anarchy, anarchy, anarchy..." with the last verse of her song she howls in ecstasy of the bloodbath. Dusk licks at her bloody maw before simply crawling inside of the hollowed stag to rest. Oh yes, she'll enjoy this land very much. Her mass pushes the ribs out as she settles into the steaming gore coccoon. As comforting as her mother's womb, not as tasty though.
Senkarde can hold promise but it'll also be full of creatures. A bunch of ******** idiots, as far as she's concerned. They're all so eager to belong somewhere, to impress, to join a herd. Such equines are nothing more than sheep. Stuck in their territories, those damned pens keeping them tucked in at night. As an anarchist she won't even choose a solid area as a home. The raider prefers to be a vagabond. Come next season she'll leave this forest for another temporary home. Hopefully she won't run into any herd members or young ones. Actually, scratch that. the latter will be welcome. Any foal a year of age or younger makes for an easy snack.
Her body sizzles and hisses as the cool rain batters against it. Blessed with inferno the cannimare's body temperature is usually high. It reaches peak condition when she's hunting or enjoying an activity. A couple of miles away lies the forest, adjacent to that, a village. Dusk will go down to the local farms to take a sample of the fillies and colts.
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Posted: Sat Jun 05, 2010 3:06 pm
She is the hunter, primal and ferocious. She slinks through the forest, hair and skin darkened to the hue of shadows with dye, spear gripped in her hand. Her nostrils flare, and she inhales deeply of the scent of blood. She turns, seeking its source-
and finds herself facing a man carrying a bow and a bear pelt. Erica blinked, startled out of her internal narration by his presence. She straightened, now acutely aware of her bizarre appearance, location, and the fact that there was rain trickling down her back... oh dear, rain. Her dye was probably running, too; wouldn't that just be typical? Right, right, distract the man. Don't want to be too memorable; there were many who would object to her work out here, and she did have to go into towns from time to time.
"Youuuuuuu seeeeee nooooothiiiiing," she crooned, waving her hands in circles in front of his face and sidling out of his way. "The fooooorest is eeeeempty toniiiiight."
For her efforts, she recieved the sardonic look she richly deserved. "Actually, it's not," he commented. "There was the bear, and a darq unicorn back there. Girl like you should be careful out here in the dark and the storm."
Erica bared her teeth in response, offended and no longer feeling like being innocuous. She shook her spear menacingly in the direction of his throat, though she continued to retreat the way he'd come. I probably spend more time in here than you do, so what gives you leave to criticize me? But there were times for words and times for running like hell, and this was one of the latter. Specifically, it was time to go see if that darq unicorn was still wherever he'd spotted it. She slid another step, then turned and sprinted off into the trees, getting out of sight before she slowed and then stopped to think.
She could just track the man, but in this rain it would be difficult. He had identified the breed of unicorn, though, and that was a help. And he had been carrying the bear pelt... but, she remembered, nothing that might have hidden bear meat; one man couldn't carry a bear's worth of meat anyhow. That meant the carcass was here, and from what she had learned over the years of the habits of unicorns, that meant the darq was around the carcass. Find the dead bear, find the unicorn. It seemed a good plan.
Only, how to find the bear? Her sense of smell was nowhere near as good as she'd like to think it was; she'd only sniffed out the pelt when it had been right behind her, after all. So that pretty much meant blind luck was going to have to do it. Erica sighed in resignation. Hunting these bizarre horses was all too often a lot of work. Still, further into the forest she went, using her spear as a walking stick.
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