A R A H

Her golden orbs looked around The Steppe, it was most certainly a lonely place. There didn't seem to be anyone up here but her, sadly, she was happy about it. For once Arah was enjoying the simple pleasures that loneliness brought. Smiling as a gentle breeze flipped her long silky mane about, Arah came to a stop by the edge of a mountain. It felt as if anything could sweep her off of her feet, that she could topple over. The danger made it quite the thrilling experience, a grin of pure enjoyment spread across her face. A stronger breeze blew this time, locking her joints and bracing against it, the doe laughed. It would take a blast of unexpected wind to knock her over the edge. Besides, Arah had no intentions to die today. Orangemoon had brought beautiful weathers along with it and it had also brought her into season. As the ivory doe stood looking over the world, the idea that she would now be able to have a foal crossed her mind. In truth, Arah was not sure how she felt about the entire idea. That was why Arah had come up here, she wanted to escape the possibility of unwanted attention or suggestions. Taking a step back from the edge, the mare looked over her shoulder incase any unwanted company could be spotted. So far, so good.

Her thoughts cast back to meeting the rather grumpy Beowulf, he had worried her. She still wasn't sure if she trusted the great hairy brute around her family, then many unicorns that were brought home from the threshold eventually wandered off. Perhaps this one would as well. With a sigh, Arah continued to look out over the world, her mood and emotions were all over the place at them moment. Being in heat apparently wasn't a bag of fun after all...well..actually Arah had never expected it to be.
More than anything though, Arah missed her sister Arwen. The ivory doe was quite sure that by now her younger sister would be lead mare of her old herd or dead. It was a brutal life in Baile na Déithe. That was where Arah was meant to be, as she was constantly reminded by her mother. But she had run and while Arah knew she was better off because of it, she wondered would her baby sister be punished for her actions?

They were depressing thoughts. Her hormones were apparently taking her moods for a spin. Instead Arah tried to ignore what she was feeling and focus on the breeze and the edge of the world again.

" "
@[Crowley]
Sorry it took me so long to get this up, just wanted to make sure a few others things were finished first! Don'thateme.
439 words.

And a sun set to lay away your day to day fears

You're busy dying if you're living in the past

A rare sight he had become, but the Weaver knew that there was much he had missed out on since the end of the darkness that had hung over Helovia for months. The Dark Empress was gone, he knew, but he didn't know the details as to why the twisted mare had handed down her crown. The fact that she was no longer the Basin's ruler was a difficult one for Crowley to accept, for he had always been rather fond of the Crux and her cynical ways. Without her, who else would be there to toy with any prisoners, be they horned or otherwise? The suddenness in which Psyche had left the Basin worried Crowley, but without a clue of where she had wandered off to, he knew it would only be a waste of time to try tracking her down. After all, maybe she didn't want to be found...

Where Crowley would oftentimes opt to remain in his favored cavern like an old and fabled Sage, today was different. Boredom had set in tenfold, and with Talbot out on a hunt, the brindle was alone and feeling unusually restless. There was much he could do, ranging from heading south to hornless territory to have a spot of entertainment, to simply toting himself around the Basin and reacquainting himself with those who might have started to think him dead. In the end, he decided on the first, and without a second thought he left the warm cave behind and set a course for the narrow path that led out of his tundra home, the tendrils of pure darkness that had taken to him trailing behind and dripping off of him as he went.

Orangemoon had taken reign of Helovia, but it was hardly noticeable in the Steppe. Having called it home for nearly two years now, Crowley and the rest were used to the harsh conditions unlike those that lived in the lower parts of the land. As he descended from the mountain that gave his home its name, the Weaver couldn't help but take notice to a peculiar aroma on the wind. It was thick and familiar during this time of the year, and it managed to wrap itself around his brain, amongst other things; and within a few seconds of standing still and analyzing it, his instinct had his feet moving more quickly down the face of the mountain.

Relying more on scent than anything else, Crowley followed the smell. In his mind, a little voice screamed at him for giving in and following after it in the first place, but there was no helping it. It wasn't until he was well away from the Basin that he finally spied the one responsible for stirring his senses so, a pale figure almost lost against the snowy landscape stretched out before them. At realizing just who it was, well... there was a strange unsettling in the pit of his belly, for there was no way he could mistake who the owner of those antlers and fairy-tale length mane was.

Keeping quiet, the Weaver allowed the crunch of snow beneath his hooves to be the only thing that alerted the mare to his approach. As he thought back on it, it had been some time since he had last spoken with the Impersonator. Would she remember their past talks, the battle they had fought together, be offended that he had even come? While Crowley had never been one for wedging himself into the lives of another, he had found tremendous joy in Arah's company, even if they didn't seem to have much in common at first. She was a gem in his eye, one he yearned call his own, greedy as it may have sounded. He regretted his recent hermit nature for the lack of her company alone.

Coming up on Arah's left, Crowley dropped his head to nip at the doe's flank, but did nothing more until he could properly gauge her reaction to his silent presence.

Walk walk walk.
"Talk talk talk."

A R A H

Footsteps approached from behind, the doe sniffed. It was ridiculous to have thought that her scent wasn't traceable. She could not hear anything except for the snow crouching under hoof. Her golden eyes remained focused on the edge of the cliff, a small smile rested on her lips. Did enemy or friend approach her so quietly from behind. A nip at her rear, brought her sights to behind her left. There stood the weaver. He was exactly as the ivory beauty remembered, cloaked in darkness, golden eyes leering through the night. Streaks of white decorated his barrel and neck.

The impersonator simply stared at him for a moment. They had only conversed a few times in the past, never before had they truly been alone...never before had he made psychical contact with her. Her golden eyes were openly confused, she knew that her scent had lured him here, what she was confused about was wether or not he intended to take advantage of her...especially as he now knew the owner of the scent. Although the young mare had to admit that she was not afraid of the weaver. Her smile remained, however it still did not quite reach her confused eyes. Only time would tell, still it was still slightly thrilling not actually knowing if he was here to have her.

Finally she allowed her sweet voice to quietly call him closer. "Crowley." Turning away from him, the doe took the beauty of the world into her sights again. It was a dangerous situation to be in...not dangerous because she may get hurt, dangerous because of the consequences. Today however, today Arah liked the taste of danger, the thrill of the unknown. The confusion and question left her eyes, instead the doe took Crowley into her eyes once again as she looked back upon him. "Did I call to you?" A giggle that was so unlike her escaped her chops.

Normally she would analyse the situation, try to figure out who was thinking what, when things might happen, what things might happen and why they would. Today...today The doe was willing to just let the day run it's chosen course. The nip he had given her flank stung a little in the icy breeze, the warmth where his mouth had been for a mere second, burned like a small flame for a moment. It was exciting, thrilling. Arah wondered if the black stag felt the same or if he was simply playing her. The smile had turned into a crocked grin, her eyes alight in the cold climate, yet filling up with more excitement by the second.

"The breeze sings to many, although I did hope to avoid others..." Her eyes once again returned to the world. "Only now I find myself pleasantly excited by your presence." A smirk was offered to the world, as if thanking it for sending her song along to the unsuspecting Crowley. For she did remember how she enjoyed his company and his black humour. It made a fantastic contrast to her usual peppy manner. Her eyes watched the snow dance along the peaks, the breeze blew the ends of her own hair. It tangled itself around her ankles, her mane simply fluttered in the wind. What game would Crowley play today? What game would Arah play today? That was a much more interesting thought, or even better yet. Would she end up playing a game? No she wouldn't, it would be much more fun to remain innocent in this kind of situation. So instead she counted the snow flakes that drifted past her and swirled around her pale body that blended so easily with the landscape around her. The game of cat and mouse had never been much fun for Arah. No.

She much preferred the game of mouse and mouse, equals.

" "
642 words.

And a sun set to lay away your day to day fears