The dark dapple gray mare stopped nibbling the grass. She lifted her head up high. She could smell the musty smell of the forest. Her nostrils flared as she took another deep breath. She whinnied loudly. Her nostrils where still flared and her tail was held high. She started prancing in place then she took off. She held her head out and her neck stretched out. She broke into a gallop. At the sight of an oncoming log she slowed back to a trot then into a walk. She halted in front of the log and touched her nose to it. After a while of eyeing it she got bored and started walking back to where she had galloped from.
As she walked along she noticed green grass a little further away. When she got to it she stopped walking and put her head down to sniff it. The lush patch of grass tickled her black muzzle. She could smell its sweet juicy smell. She nibbled at the grass. She cast a troubled glance backwards. She heard a twig snap. As her heart began hammering, she looked around. She neighed softly. As she looked around one last time she noticed a small blue jay. She reared up on her hind legs. The little bird in front of her tweeted and started flying a circle around her. When she finally got back on all fours, she nickered and the bird fly away in a blur of blue and white. She threw her head high and looked around to see where the bird flew to. With no sight of it she put her head back down and continued nibbling the grass.[/color]

Large, black, and forbidding, Abyss stalked the Threshold searching for new prey, new mares to torment, stallions to goad, whichever it may be. He was not in a particularly lusty mood, nor was he in particularly good mood...not that either mattered, he was typically the same regardless of what mood he was in.

Nostrils flaring, the stud inhaled the scent of a mare. He was intrigued, of course, mares were common in the Threshold, newcomers searching for stallions to protect them. Not altogether fair, but then Abyss had always found that most mares were of the weaker sex. Nowadays he had little use for them beyond a plaything. This one could serve that purpose, or perhaps he would sharpen his tongue at the cost of her losing trust in the stallions that stalked Helovia. It mattered little to him which category she fell into. It depended on how entertained he was by her, and chances were he would tire of her quickly.

She was a dark dapple mare, good looking, delicate. She seemed fragile, but that could be misleading. The last mare had seemed delicate too, but she had been a spitfire, though she had fallen eventually. She grazed before him, alone and vulnerable. He moved toward her, a black shadow.

"Mare," he greeted, it was how he addressed most mares, the ones that he had yet to get a feel for anyhow, "good day!" His voice was a deep rumble. He would not show her too much of his personality, not yet. The get to know you portion of the day would come later.

She snapped her head up in a jerky motion. She stood still for a moment, eyeing the stallion over. She snorted. The stallion was all black except for the strands in his tail, and a white stripe. She turned to face him. The stallion seemed much older than her. She was uninterested in him. She had no care for stallions at the moment. The very presence of one sent fear through her body.

As she stood there for what seemed to be ages. An elder stallion. Much bigger than her. Sweet voice. Her thoughts swiveled through her head. As she thought about all this she realized that this stallion may only be trying to be nice for various reasons. She walked a step towards him. Graceful and elegant. She didn't hesitate. Her fear stacked up inside of her. She could have fled, but first impressions had no big impact on her. She decided to say something.

She tried not to sound stupid to the large stallion in-front of her. "Hello." Her voice was smooth and seductive, yet understandable. She spoke rather quickly though. She was still standing a few strides away. She was OK with the distance between them. She had no idea if the stallion would lash out or be irritating. At the very least she could leave.

The mare was startled by his presence, but this was unsurprising. He had appeared silently and slowly, and he supposed that his sudden speech had set her on edge. For long moments she stood there, staring at him, analyzing him and not speaking. He wondered if she was deaf or if she was merely trying to figure out what to say. He waited as her fear soured the scent of her. Kindness would do much with this mare, he had a feeling. It would not do to move too quickly with her, she would only flee and he had little chance of chasing her.

Her steps were bolder than he anticipated, with little hesitation. As she drew closer, her scent grew stronger. It was appealing, very much so, but most mares were. He was drawn to the small, lithe ones like the mare before him, a great contrast to his bulk. Beautiful, yes, and long limbed. The last mare had been of Arabian blood, sleek and gorgeous as well. They were much alike.

Her voice was seductive. He grinned in a moment, that was not the tone of a mare uninterested at all. She was intrigued, at the very least.

"I am Abyss," he offered her, a peace offering, "have you been in Helovia long?" He would leave it to her to decide if she wished to share her name with him.

As the snow fell, a trace amount was left on her curved back. The wind whistled against the barren leaves. Everything was almost white, except the large, masculine, black stallion in-front of her. As the fear sub-sided slightly, she relaxed slightly. Her blue eyes looked over the stallion one last time. Abyss seemed determined. Of what? She had no idea.

She thought about her response in less time. "Nice to meet you. I am Tainted." her tone of voice didn't change. The rapid talking had subsided.

Still a little fear hung in the air. She had her ears perked the entire time. Intent on listening to what he had to say, she walked closer. His scent was pleasant but average. As she continued to his next question, she wasn't sure of a good answer. "No, not at all." She didn't really think about her answer, she kinda just said it.

Her tone remained quiet, silky and smooth. Her tone was not unpleasant, it fell on the ears in such a way that it not grind on his nerves. She didn't say much either, pleasant. It was nice to be with a mare that didn't want to talk his ear off. Many of them did and in doing so were not appealing to him. He wasn't much of a conversationalist, action was his way of communicating, particularly with the opposite sex.

"Tainted," he murmured, savoring the name, "interesting name. But one such as yourself, a beauty such as yourself, you do not live up to the name. There's nothing tainted about you." He moved closer to her, closing the gap that she had left.

"New to these lands then, as am I, perhaps we can learn them together?" He had no desire to explore, but perhaps she would trust him if they spent more time together. Suddenly, the urge to have another mare was brought to the forefront of his mind. He was a glutton like that, an empty wine jar...constantly seeking for the thrill of the next great pleasure.

As he repeated her name back to her, she felt serene. The forest was quiet. It was brilliant. With the few words she had said. She felt like she spilled her life story. It's not like she named herself?

She flinched inside slightly. No one had ever said something as nice as that. She dipped her head slightly. The large stallion was pleasant to be around. As he got closer, she could feel the warmth of his body. Being slightly uncomfortable with him so close, she takes a subtle step back. The question.. she really had no answer. "That sounds.. fun." She did indeed find him quite fascinating. Being in his presence made butterflies fly up her stomach. Although exploring wasn't quite her thing, she accepted. She wanted to get to know him better. She also still had an odd suspicion of why a stallion much older than herself would go for someone like her.

She looked at the stallion.. eyes fixed. A cool breeze passed through the forest. She tried not shiver. Her hoofs were sunken into the fresh, clean, and cool snow. Some may think the vast, and seemingly endless, snow was a winter wonderland. She thought of it as an annoying thing. She shook her head and neck, trying to get the snow off. Most of it was off. The cold sensation wasn't.

The mare seemed to settle and as she dipped her head, he felt that she had accepted his proposition. Excellent. Perhaps in some deserted place, some place more...romantic. The stallion was not a believer in romance, but the mare, perhaps she was. She had backed away from him, fear perhaps? She didn't trust him yet, not yet. But she would.

"It will be." He smiled, though internally he was smirking. The mare had no idea how much fun exploring could be. With her acceptance, he began to think of where he could take her to show her a good time. Trust, he had to build trust and he had to give her a reason to believe he was developing feelings for her.

"Come closer," he encouraged, "come stand next to me. I won't bite," his voice held a teasing note in it. No, he wouldn't bite. Not to harm her, "come, I think I know some place to get out of the snow. It's not far." The snow had begun to fall slightly more and he knew that she would get cold. There was hardly any mass to her, unlike him.

She watched the stallion think. He was smirking. She had very little to no trust. As he egged her to come closer, she didn't budge. She isn't one to win over with words. She is smarter than that. She knows it to. She lifted her long head back up again. As the ever-cold wasteland around her became colder, she became easier to manipulate. After a moment or two, she got too cold and got closer to him. Her thin, soft fur wasn't touching him. No part of her was touching him. She intended to keep it that way.

"Where are we going?" She broke the eerie silence that followed his sweet voice. With no doubt about it, she knew something was happening, but she wasn't sure. Her suspicion had almost always been correct. She knew it didn't add up. She pushed that thought to the back of her head.

She wanted to get closer to him, but never doing that before made it seem wrong. She witnessed terrifying things as a filly. She knew she may not be able to trust this stallion or any other stallion. Fear had been driven into her blood. It had been with her, her entire life. Was she just going to be brave? And pretend what she saw didn't happen?

So she wasn't easily won over. The stallion pondered this for a moment. Perhaps he was forbidding, but then again, so were the winds that were picking up and howling across the Threshold. The mare seemed frightened still, as though something had happened to her in her past that set her on edge around stallions. He hoped she would relax, because if she did not, then this would be a supreme waste of his time.

"The storm is picking up," he noted, "we're going to shelter, I know a small place that we can take cover from the wind and snow. That will hopefully keep us from freezing to death. Frostfall is a dangerous time." It was the most he had spoken to the mare, it was less persuasive and more fact. The mare was delicate and slender, her fur did not seem to be particularly thick. The large Shire stallion had thick feathers around his hooves, a well grown in winter coat and a huge body mass...that would keep him warm.

"Trust me, beautiful," he rumbled out, "wouldn't want your pretty little muzzle all frosted over and hurt from this cold. I'll take you somewhere safe, princess." Their pace was leisurely, for the old, large stallion had no desire to wear himself out before the fun began.

As she stallion spoke, she listened intently. She walked silently and slowly next to the black stallion. Her head hung low and and her strides were long. As they walked, tensions drowned, along with fears. The stallion spoke of freezing. She didn't want that. It seemed he cared about her, but not totally sure, she was always on alert. Even when no one could think she was.

His subtle flirtatious comments made her feel special. No stallion had ever given her this much thought. It gnawed at her brain. All the sweetness, and charisma was getting to her. The sugar like snow swirled around them. With regrets of ever walking away with the stallion, or even allowing herself to be with him for such a period of time, she held down her fear. She had already gone this far. What could she lose? Maybe a friend she never truly had? She hadn't thought about the stallions real intentions for a period of time.

She wasn't sure how far she had walked, which direction, or where she was going. The pleasant feeling of having someone walking with her was what she thought about. She knew he had purposely not given her full answers.

OOC: Ignorance is bliss.. I guess?

OCC: indeed, indeed.

The shelter was not as far as it seemed, and when they arrived, he led the way to the entrance. It was a small grove of trees, densely packed to keep out most of the snow and small...big enough so that the mare could retain most of her comfort zone, but small enough that the stallion's heat would warm up the small shelter quickly.

The closer quarters would lead his mind to inappropriate thoughts, but he had to admit, that for now he would wait until she trusted him. Going to fast would lose him his prize, and he did not want to lose this girl until he had a taste of what she had to offer. He was weary from the snow as well, it had iced his feathering, weighing it down. The warmth his feathers offered was counteracted by the weight on his legs.

"Tainted," he breathed, "come in, it's warmer here." His breath still ghosted in the cold air, but he felt marginally warmer, now that he was out of the wind and the snow was not (for the most part) falling on him, "wouldn't want you to get too cold, beautiful." Lust would soon take it's toll, but for now he was content to wait a bit. His recent encounter lessened his need, but it would surge up again. Like an addict, he was constantly looking for his next hit.

As the shelter came into view, she could see that the trees blocked out most of the wind and snow, but some still danced their way into it. She stood on the outside of it. The stallion went in first. He invited her to come in. She stepped inside. The difference in the warmth in the air was shocking. Her dapple grey coat has some stray particles of snow through out it.

The space was closed in, but not uncomfortable. Abyss stood there. His feathers almost iced. The snow had weakened her greatly. Her ears weren't perked, but they weren't angered, just relaxed. Her head has hung low and her tail still and motionless. The cave had warmed fairly quickly. The time she had spent with the stallion increased her trust some, but, still had no actual connections to him. Yes, he was dreamy, but she didn't feel any sparks.

"It is warmer in here." Her voice was the same as always, clear and seductive. He had been the one talking for a while, so she decided it was her turn to talk. She knew he may not have an answer with that. That was OK with her. Talkative types were just an annoyance. They seem to have an ongoing commentary. Her quiet personality wasn't compatible with these types. At least he wasn't talkative. He was pleasant to listen to.

She was extremely quiet, he noted, offering little about herself, about her likes or her dislikes, or revealing much at all about her personality. She appeared lukewarm to his attentions, and this was disconcerting. Her tone retained it's seductive quality, but she seemed disinterested in the older stallion. He had offered her shelter, had made no move to harm her, and had complimented her, by all right she should have opened up to him by now. She was distant and aloof, remaining away from him as though she had no desire to be near him, to even touch him.

"It is," he agreed with her statement, dipping his head. She seemed content to stand in near silence, and he could think of no reason to change that. He glanced at her, sidelong. His interest in the mare was piqued, her quietness, her reserved demeanor. Secrets? Did she have them? Had something in her past caused her to keep the space between them. When he invaded her space, he had noted, she stepped back.

"You're quiet," he observed, "not a bad thing, just a fact. Who made you quiet?"

The stallion was the one keeping the dialogue going. His sweet voice echoed slightly. The lighting was dim. He seemed interested in her life. Which could be good, or bad. She glanced over to the stallion when he spoke. She thought about her fairly recent past. A horrifying memory. Her stomach knotted just thinking about the snorts of anger, and her mom.

"It's a long story, but I will be quick." her voice wasn't natural or calm. Her voice had a faint quiver and hesitation. Was she really going to tell the tragic story to Abyss? I guess so. "When I was foaled, true, but hard to believe, I was talkative and bold." She took a quick pause. "My mom and me.. we traveled to my new home. She talked all the way back about the fun I would have with other foals, and all sorts of things from my father, to the very core of the vast herd." She made sure the stallion was listening. She wouldn't repeat the story. As she continued, her voice was still weak. "The trip was long and tiring, but that hadn't been an obstacle for my strong personality. I can still remember lifting my head high, and smelling the new herd not to far away. The sun was bright and the sky was blue, like a make-believe story that always ends up happy. Me and my mom caught the sight of the herd. We galloped towards them. Their sights were on my father and a challenger. The challenger had won." She took a moment to regain whatever was left of her composure. "He looked over at me and my mom. His blue roan coat was bloody and caked with mud. He charged.. my mom. My mom still had a round belly and couldn't move fast. He reared on his hind legs. He neighed loudly. The noise still disrupts me sometimes. I'd rather not get into the gory details. I saw her there. Limp. Lifeless. Dead. I sprinted out. My new legs against his matured muscular legs? He want for my legs. He had nipped my front legs." A big white scar could still be seen upon her front leg. "He stopped chasing me, and I have been roaming since." The most she had ever spoken to this stallion. She had most likely talked him off. A hint of sadness was in her eyes.

This was the most she had said to a stallion about her life.

He listened, attentively to the mare, his ears pricked. So that was what it was. The stallion had treated her poorly. He closed his eyes to process what she had said. Once he had been a leader, a challenger, a killer. How many former leaders had he killed? How many times had he chased out their mates and their children? He was a leader once, it is understandable that the new leader would wish to weed out any who might later challenge him for the throne, but to kill...long ago he would have thought that a drastic measure. Now, he was reminded of the hundreds that lay dead, rotting because of him. No, killing was not something that he shied from.

"A hard life you've had," he commented lowly, "to strike out on your own at such a young age. It must have been difficult." He was finding it harder and harder to control himself in the tight space. The mare was alluring, and though he knew that if he slipped she would no doubt leave, he wished for her touch, "my apologies for such a vile deed." He remembered his mate's own death, the way they had torn her body apart and left her to be scavenged. It did not befit his noble queen, but it was what she had gotten. The mare's gory story brought back memories he'd sooner forget.

"I understand," Abyss murmured quietly, looking out into the swirling snow, "it is a pain that one can never quench when they watch a loved one be slaughtered before their eyes." The memories he had so long ago forced deep into the recesses of his mind forced themselves to the forefront again. They were why he could never love again, for what he loved often came to a dire end.

He closed his eyes, processing what she had told him. Had he realized that was the main chunk of her personality? He had seemed to have a dramatic life too. She longed for her life back. To start over. Fear ruled her mind, body, and soul. Fear was what once saved her from her devious father. Fear had also made her miss out on some tremendous opportunities. With the only core of the story told, she felt he understood and she decided that would suffice for the story. It wasn't the details about her and a stallions friendly spar turning into a fight to the end, it was about the main picture. All stallions she had met somehow turned into monsters. Disrupting the only trust she had for them. She knew with stallions, they may seem friendly and sweet at the beginning, but, they always placed some sort of consequence.

"How do you understand? You say you do, but, is it true? You too have had a tragic turn in your life?" The mares voice was back. She was glad the wimp of a voice was gone.Tragedies always struck with her, and she was ready for another anytime soon.

She was ready for any sort of flirtatious remark, snide comment, or hateful response from the stallion. He seemed like one with a very twisted personality. She was used to it, and didn't think anything of it.

"It is a long story, young one," it was the first time he had addressed her as such, "for I have lived a long life, but I will tell it to you." His voice was heavy, bitter, angry. Memories he had staved off for long assaulted his mind. It was not a pleasant thing to be around the stallion when he was in a temper, but he would not harm the mare, would not try to kill her. He desired only her body, not her blood, and now she brought to the forefront of his mind memories of a long dead mare. She could in no way resemble his former mate, for she was the wrong color and of the wrong blood, but she reminded him of her nonetheless.

"I was young when I met the mare that was to become my mate...so very young. Already I was responsible for much, a herd, the lands that surrounded them, my father had given it to me before settling down with his mate, a mare that was not my mother, but that is not relevant. She was beautiful, the moment I laid eyes on her I knew I had to have her. She was pregnant within the month." He paused, his great black eyes closing and then reopening with renewed vigor.

"My firstborn was, to my surprise, two firstborns. Twin daughters. Miska and Gem," as he spoke their names he smiled for the first time in awhile, "they were the light of my life. Beautiful girls with all of the grace of their mother. To say that their birth was the happiest moment of my life would be a lie, however, for with each subsequent birth, my son Nebula, my daughter Cai, my son Equinox, and lastly, my son Leviathan, brought me more joy." On Leviathan's name, his voice broke and he stumbled. His last born, and his favorite child, Leviathan had been the death that triggered it all.

"Leviathan was the last to be born, and the first to die. He was still so young when it happened, cut down in an act of war by an enemy I didn't even know we had. He was avenged, many times over, but in being avenged he fueled my own ambition. I waged wars that should never have been waged. I killed, slaughtered in my anger for my son's death. I drove away my mate with my bloodthirsty ways. She never forgave me." The stallion's head dropped, eyes shuddered. He appeared very weary.

"They're all dead, killed in the last battle I ever fought. They've been dead for years." Just like the stallion's once loving heart.

Her head was facing him. The stallion seemed to long for his family. Leviathan had clearly been the favorite. The stallions voice had broken once. From sadness for the loss or understanding for the stallion, something about him kept her from fleeing. Had this been the most he had ever told a mare something? Most likely not. She thought about what he said. Both the mare and stallion seemed sad. The image of her dead mom was in her head, and the image of his beloved mate and son killed was most likely in his. He had mentioned slaughtering, and killing animals. Surprisingly, this didn't make her uncomfortable. She too had slaughtered multiple.

She stallion faced the side of her, and if she looked straight she saw trees. She felt comfortable. She turned and faced him. Taking a step closer, she watched him. How would he react if she willingly got closer? What if he had gotten use to her shyness? It was to late for those thoughts, as she had already took the step.

The snow still flurried around them. At least most of it was blocked out.

She drew closer to him and he turned to face her, his muzzle inches from hers.

"I did not mean to sadden you, beautiful with thoughts of the past. Forgive me," he whispered, his voice deep and sad. He tried to force the thoughts of his mare from his mind and focus on the one before him. How would she react if he closed the distance completely, "the snow is beautiful is it not?" His words were quiet, "romantic, one could say." The words he spoke could have held charm, and they did to an extent, but he was not overly pushy. She had only just stepped closer to him and he would not push her away.

"It has been a very long time. Old wounds fade, but they do not heal. Someday, someday you will not hurt as much as you do now." The stallion is very old in that moment, for he has lived a great many years. He would wager that he has four times as many as the mare with him, and even he has forgotten his exact age. It has been some time since he has thought of it.

"Do not always live in fear," he encouraged, after a moment.