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Post by madiebeau on Dec 7, 2015 10:36:12 GMT -8
Her first taste of tears had left fissures in her chest so deep that she could never heal. Her first taste of tears had murdered her innocence. The night that Sirius followed her out into the darkness, she had known that he would come to save her. Ever since they had met in the Fields, he had taken her to be his to protect. Sirius had been a guardian of goodness, but he had mistaken her naivety, her ignorance, for that of light. Really, she was just a stupid child back then. In the end, she got him killed.
Her joints ache where once there had been gaping wounds left by rabid fangs. There are no scars, only strange, dreamlike memories that cause her heart to flutter. Her healer had never made themselves known that night - the night that Gwer had led Sirius into the jaws of death. Why they had chosen to restore her life, but not his, was a mystery. Gwer could never serve the world the way He had. He was a protector of light, of goodness. She was deceit dressed in naivety.
She finds herself drawn to the ever-shifting plains of Oceanic Steppe. They are incredibly akin to her birthplace. Today they are dressed in Summer’s golden glow. The sunlight sets her body on fire, shades of amber, gold, and coral red burning up the grasses as she passes them by. She can feel the breath of the ocean, even from here, and she is drawn to it. Drawn to the sound of rushing waves, and sea salt beaches. Away from the mountains in the distant north.
She wanders past a glimmering lake, and further towards the shoreline, but something gives her pause. She stops and looks back towards the lake, clamping her tail, and giving an uneasy snort.
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Post by DingoMutt on Dec 16, 2015 14:04:18 GMT -8
Booth // knab x friesian // seven years // 16.1 hhBooth had tried to remain in his new home, tried so hard to be calm and cool and collected but his anxiety had finally bubbled over. Every sound of the forest made his skin twitch and every shift in the breeze sent him scurrying. He couldn't remain alone among the trees any longer, so he'd skittered from his lands and set out to find something else to occupy him. Trying to remain in one place had been his first mistake, like most horses when panicked he simply had to move his feet and find something else to focus on. So now, as he trotted quickly through the steppe with his knees far too high and his pace far too quick he held his nose close to his chest and strained, finding that the ache that settled in his muscles made him feel a bit more grounded. His spirit threatened to flee his body but the pains of pressing himself kept him trapped and working off the excess panic until he'd be calm enough to regain normal function.
It was fairly mild for a summer's day, but still the heat warmed his body and his dark coat was slick with sweat. His heavy, curly mane formed an oppressive curtain on his neck. Finally he was beginning to tire, so he stretched his neck long and low and slowed to a quick walk. He still kept his head dipped, his steps snappy in a mechanical fashion. For a long time the bachelors had teased him, but his conformation and the nagging of his sire had made flashy movements the norm. He slashed his tail anxiously against his hips, the curled hair cracking against his flanks and making far more noise than he had anticipated. He spooked forward to trot a few steps before settling again, the smell of water up ahead driving him onward. He knew he couldn't continue like this, driving himself into the ground each time he panicked, but he felt he had no choice. Perhaps things would get better when he found the safety of numbers, but for now he was alone and the lake was calling to him.
He walked straight into the water, splashing dramatically until he was up to his belly. He drank greedily, his brown eyes scanning the shore for anyone that might bother him while he recovered. He spotted an equine on the move, a slight creature that was surely a mare or a young colt, and he resumed his focus on the water after determining this figure was no threat. He stretched his limbs, camping out and sinking a bit to get water up over his back. The water sapped the strength from his tired muscles, and he was content to just stand for a few moments, the cool lake calming his mind and bringing him back from the brink.
He chanced a glance at the horse he'd seen before, and it had paused and turned back towards the water. He grimaced a bit but remained in the water. All his panic had fled and he was too tired to move unless he had to.
531 words // yay Booth
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Post by madiebeau on Jan 15, 2016 20:46:31 GMT -8
She doesn't understand fear, not the way a horse who has, quite literally, kissed death should. As a youth, fear had been non-existent. She had traipsed into the needle teeth of predators with a curious gleam in her eyes, as if they were not eager to devour her. She had once joined the were-creatures in their chilling howls, as if she were their sister. Perhaps, she is a sister to all things haunting and dangerous, for they have all let her escape - all save one.
Sirius had taken her. He had hidden her from the darkness she was so drawn to. He had mistaken her for something of light, of goodness, but he had been wrong. She may have been innocent, but she has never been good.
In the rush of raising hair, and prickling skin, she sees His pale face. The surprise wanes, and she blinks away the paleness of his memory like a mote from her eye. She realizes slowly, what had caught her off guard. Her gaze falls upon a dark stallion standing in the lake that she had almost left behind her, and he is looking at her.
Strange.
Gwer narrows her eyes, unsure whether or not she should turn her back on him. She had turned her back on Sirius once...and he had gotten killed.
She breaks the silence of her body, stoney muscles softening as she turns completely to face the stranger.
“What?” she says, looking at him expectantly.
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Post by DingoMutt on Jan 20, 2016 0:31:11 GMT -8
Booth // knab x friesian // seven years // 16.1 hhThe water lapped teasingly at the brute's muscles, tempting him to drop to his knees and allow the lake to swallow him whole. The thought was tempting, especially so as the horse on the opposite shore seemed to focus upon him. He was sure he felt the mare's gaze boring holes into him. He kept an ear on her but his dark eyes were on the water, not wanting to press his luck any further. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she all but barked at him. Her tone wasn't as harsh as he expected, but he felt every drop of irritation and emotion in her voice and felt the heat of her gaze increase. He arched his neck and shied away from her a bit, taking a few lofty, trotting steps out of the lake, away from the dun mare. His tail was clamped and his lips pulled tight. Anxiety bubbled in his belly, back so quickly after he'd worked himself into the ground.
"Ah," he began, finally turning his gaze to the mare. He shuffled his hooves in the mud and spun in a tight circle. He was tempted to bolt, but he was in too deep. Something about this mare made him uneasy, something he couldn't quite place. As he settled and watched her, he was drawn in, fascinated by the odd air about her. It was a bit of a trick, he felt, like a deer in the headlights or perhaps a snake hypnotized by a man with a flute. He felt a bit of peace and a bit of panic. "Beg pardon... I'm a bit of a mess. I didn't mean to bother you, I just needed to cool off." he said, his voice surprisingly calm and cool, a stark contrast to his twitching sides and wide eyes. He wondered if she would understand, if she even knew that horses his size could be as tightly wound as a tiny arab, head in the clouds all the same. Somehow he kept his voice mild and he willed his body to fall still and his heart to settle to a steady rhythm.
Booth wanted so desperately to be the confident stallion that had claimed a territory that he had adopted as a falsehood. He shook his neck and loosened his tail, swishing it a bit at imaginary flies. Where his mane had been a burden in the heat, now it was a burden as it held water and stuck to his neck. Strands of his curly tail clung to his hocks and a few even to his flanks. His forelock was plastered down the center of his face, hardly shifting as he bobbed his head a bit in an attempt at judging the distance to the mare. If this was her place, would he have time to turn and run before she was upon him? He thought so. He felt life return to his muscles at that thought. 493 words // what a baby
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Post by madiebeau on Mar 10, 2016 15:11:08 GMT -8
Gwer has never known fear - not the way one should. She has always been attracted to the stuff of nightmares: the darkness. But, one other thing was certain: no one has ever been afraid of her. Booth’s reaction to her is intriguing. She watches him exit the water, and spin in a tight circle. She narrows her eyes in curiosity, like a child that studies the movements of a butterfly. She wants to catch him, to touch his paper wings and allow him to climb onto her finger. Her posture slackens into something less threatening - less crass.
“Please,” she says, her voice suddenly as soft as baby fur. “don’t leave.” She takes a slow step forward, her head tilted inquisitively. The distance between them is considerable, and she wonders how to close it without spooking him further.
“I’ve been terribly alone.” she says, looking down bashfully. “I did not mean to be rude.” she stares at her hooves a moment before daring to peek up at the large, dark stallion. How strange that one so large could be so delicate.
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Post by DingoMutt on Apr 11, 2016 16:38:32 GMT -8
Booth // knab x friesian // seven years // 16.1 hhAlready life had once again surged within Booth's chest. He had ground himself to dust and dissolved in the water, but now this mare was approaching and he fluttered anxiously back to life. His skin twitched anxiously at flies that were not there. Water still dripped from his hide and formed puddles around his hooves, where he'd torn up the muddy sand in his anxious dance. He watched the mare, his ears tuned to her form, his dark eyes surrounded by white following her every move. His apology and anxiety seemed to sink in to her all at once, and she faded from a grouch to a companion in an instant. Her body made her seem apologetic, even from this distance. He dipped his muzzle, his poll remaining high, and he took an anxious step to the side and then a single one forward.
He's nearly startled into a spook when she speaks, her voice soft now as if she was trying to reassure a child. Is that what she saw when she looked at him? His heart clenched. To be such a big stallion, in the prime of life, and treated gently like a foal on wobbly legs. He ground his teeth for a second, his ears pinning and disappearing in his thick mane. His lips twitched as he listened to her words. Don't leave? I'm lonely? He wasn't sure how to respond. He glanced away, looking behind him at the scars he'd left in the earth in his panic. He was lonely too, he supposed. As a social creature it was difficult to be happy and comfortable on your own. He finally braved a sigh and began to approach the mare.
"My name is Booth," he began. His voice was calm and stronger now. He wavered so quickly between a ball of anxiety and a confident brute he wasn't sure who he was anymore. It made him sick to be ruled so easily by his emotions. He'd have to work on that. "I've been alone as well, for too long. It's easy to forget how to speak to others." he agreed as he approached. As he'd approached his head had dropped a bit, and he came to a stop about fifty feet from the mare. That was as strong as he could be. His flank twitched and he smacked it anxiously with his tail. He'd hold his ground if she wanted to come closer, but he shifted his weight here and there to convey his fear. Too sudden a movement would still set him off into a panic, but he swallowed and tried to remain calm. He told himself he needed this, that this was why he'd left his home in the first place. 465 words // sorry it's bad
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