the Rift


[OPEN] [Finished] A learned fool is more a fool than an ignorant fool.

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#1
[Image: afri_zps12e4f1bf.png]



It was late morning, and a mild breeze swept down from the heart of Helovia. Its breath was unseasonably warm, dry, and the sour taste of smoke infested the northern brim of desert. Africa lifted her face finding that she was soon unable to ignore the thick sickening smell any longer, a subtle scowl carving distaste into the naturally buoyant expression, which ordinarily did not fade.
The stark tomato-red of the Paintbrush flower beckoned for her attention to return, its bristly grey-green leaves quivering, though stiff against the pull of the tarnished gusts. The young mare lowered her twitching muzzle again in adoring surrender to brush her velvety black lips against the plants finger-like petals, but a dull ache throbbed against the pulse of blood through her brain. Upset, Africa jerked her head instinctually against the discomfort and her plush grey mane swirled to life as the breeze gathered playfully throughout its flailing mass. Impatiently, and perhaps in brazen defiance against the wilful lick of smoky air preventing the continuation and focus of her study, a snort burst through the defensive pinch of her nostrils.

Many times in the last few months Africa had traversed between Helovia’s rimming forest and her desert homeland, though each time she had cringed away from the burning ‘Heart’ of the country. With a finely tuned flight response, the young cowardly horse feared the strange tower of choking smoke, and likewise the unmistakable flickering flames which never dulled. She was not the sort to specifically step barefaced into the open arms of danger, young, naive and not overly confident in character- though a childlike irritation did stir in reaction to the foul interruption in the middle hours of this particular day.

Leaving the languid nature of her pottering, the mare burst into a quickening gallop fuelled wholly by curious frustration and a sudden, uncharacteristic determination to face this inconvenience head on. She headed north towards Helovia’s heart and while her large feathered wings were left ajar to each side of her heaving barrel, she chose not to fly on this occasion. The weather was mild, the day clear, and only a light sweat bothered the dusty-red sheen of Africa’s dapple grey coat.
As she passed between the slim streak of shade cast by the unfinished mass of sandstone rock wall, the familiar slide of warm sand beneath her beating hooves failed, and a cracked, dehydrated shell hardened under the churn of her graceful gait. The change jarred the unprepared swing of her joints, causing her recklessness to ease a little and for her thoughts to reconfigure only vaguely through the haze of impulse which had compelled her from the safety of the Throat. Long, straw-like grass rose in a deep see before her, swishing as the pull of rough burning winds swept violently through.

Ahead; plainly visible even above the easily head high grass, the ominous promise of fire sputtered red, orange and glowing yellow, peering deviously through the dense smog of bubbling charcoal-brown smoke. Africa’s ears flickered with hesitant concern, but her inexperienced eyes watched unblinking, enchanted perhaps by the alien spectacle now within her reach. Quietly and impetuously, the Pegasus continued closer, slipping blindly into the sway of obscuring sea and the growing fog of heat embraced her ignorant transgression upon the dead soil. The strange crackle of flame filled her mind.



"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."




Art by Nevada
Table by Ghost

Voodoo Posts: 231
Outcast atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Eight :: Birdsong HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ouija :: Arctic Fox :: None Nevada
#2

I had not been here long.. really, I hadn't been here more than a week, but my mind urged me to venture past the Basin every day. Well, more the voices rather than my mind. It seemed that my brain never had a say in anything anymore. The voices taunted me when I did something they disapproved of or beckoned me to do more. It was always a lose / lose situation, I never had a way around it. The Basin had been friendly to me so far, it's cold environment was open with wide arms, though I had yet to meet many of its members. I sat alone, watching the herd from afar, learning who was who through private talks. Each unicorn had been quiet, not saying a word to me yet. Descaro was the only one to speak to me, and we had met once, at the Threshold.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rythmatic pulsating of hard hoofs clanking off of nearby solid ground. Red eyes that danced with the reflection of the far too close flames flicked up from the dryly vegetated earth, spotting a gray Pegasus mare moving swiftly over the ground. I watched her with red tipped ears pressed forward, my interest climbing from the depths of my brain. What the fuck does she think she's doing? The growly voice emerged from my head, making me almost jump, as if I had never heard it before. If only that were the case. I sighed, my unnatural colored eyes following the feathered female as she ran. The natural, deep hate began to brew deeply in my chest, igniting a natural flame that I had inherited from my father and his father. Why couldn't I have been more like mother? Look what soft-heartedness got her. Dumb bitch anyway My ears pressed back at the next voice, causing me to sneer at what looked like to anyone watching, nothing. "Shut the fuck up!" I warned them, as if I could actually do anything that wouldn't harm myself.

The dappled mare seemed to stumble on something, becoming somewhat cautious before diving into the deep grass. The solidness of her body stood out like a sore thumb against the dry, golden sheen of the waving grass. My lungs were full of the thick, soiled air; had been the whole time I had been lurking in this hot territory. It didn't seem to bother my organs after a while. It was barely even noticeable at this point. The mare moved on steadily as if she were on a mission. I had to see where she would end up. My limber legs moved my body through the dehydrated grass easily, creating enough noise for me to be noticed quite easily. I wasn't hiding.

Nearly stocking the female stirred the ignited flame in my belly, creating a satisfying chemical to flow through my veins. Not exactly an adrenaline rush, but possibly the beginning of one? My nostrils flared, taking in every bit of oxygen that I could scrounge from the dense air as we neared the source of the living nightmare. Smoke rolled into the sky, thick and black, creating a clearly visible smog over head. Again, what in the fuck does she think she's doing? I raised an eyebrow, hidden beneath knotted forelock, agreeing with my third voice.. No, not my voice, it's voice! It did not belong to me, not at all! I paced the mare, keeping about a fifteen yard distance between us.


EVERYTHING YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM
IS IN YOUR HEAD
[Image: 5389e9aca8b63]
Please tag him in every post!

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#3
[Image: afri_zps12e4f1bf.png]



As the flames glowed, dancing wickedly in the pale cream of her eyes and beckoning her forward with a grappling crimson finger, Africa could not fight the fascination as it gripped her soul. There was no path for the raw tread of her hoof to follow, nor did the long, golden grasses bend or part to offer her some rite of passage. She moved as though blinded, her eyes entranced, possessed by the smouldering heart of the land. The crackling was twinged for a second with the bitter tone of someone’s voice, and the young horse’s ears pivoted, unable to distinguish reality while her mind was held captive by the luring, tempting lick of fire. The smoke grew thick the nearer she went and it filled her lungs nauseatingly, so that she began to cough in short busting fits.

That was when she broke the chain, and realised her predicament. Africa was lost. She turned across her clenched hocks, completing a full, tight circle as distress began to flood her heart. The grass was long and thick; the dark, sickening smog a barely penetrable screen preventing her escape; and even as her wildly searching eyes struggled to comprehend the situation and find some resolution, the dapple grey Pegasus felt the overwhelming pang of anxiety.

Large grey wings unfurled in an instant, pumping against the yielding swish of the head high grass, but she could gather no momentum, her face whipped unkindly, tauntingly as she leapt forward irresolutely. Sensitive by nature, her emotive face was etched with grim disbelief. Still the cackle of mocking flames pursued her; gleaming eyes and gaping mouths surged and cavorted, watching always; delighting as their victim grew weary in the sticky web. Africa’s eyes watered uncontrollably, stinging but unable to avoid the onslaught of smoke, and streams of red-tinged tears began to soak her cheek- she wished in earnest now that she had never been tempted from the safety of the desert.

She was a fool, of childish spirit; easily discarding the helmet of common sense. A breeze swirled through the area, diluting the smoke and offering her desperate gulps refreshment. In the instant, her face was lifted high and her eyes able to distinguish a break ahead- but also the rapacious gaze of another watching, following as though a predator hunting her, the lamb. “Who are you!” She demanded, apprehension tarnishing the soft innocence normally cloaking her voice. “Why are you following me...” Africa had turned towards the flickering movement, the shadow of life obscured in the maze of grass, but could not discern their identity; wolf?

She spun around and started forward with haste, legs almost crumpling with relief as the grass vanished. Nothing but the dead, cracked surface of Helovia’s burnt centre before her. Africa stumbled closer to the threat of looming fire, away from the thick grass and the hiding creature, before turning again to bravely meet his approach. The breeze was gone, and smoke began to descend around her.



"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."




Art by Nevada
Table by Ghost

Voodoo Posts: 231
Outcast atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Eight :: Birdsong HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ouija :: Arctic Fox :: None Nevada
#4

The female moved swiftly, charging nearer and nearer to the open mouth of our world which continued to vomit black clouds. The shape of her body contorted, the violent hacking reaching my sensitive ears easily connected in my brain to tell me that she was slowly choking on the air. Massive wings unfolded from her body, casting the smoke away from her frame for a split second; just enough for me to see her whip her face from the dense air for a moment.

Her eyes, creamy in color, but so obviously frightened, connected with my own. The adrenaline shot through me; the rush taking over my body within the first half of a second of eye contact. Get her! Just go fuck with her! She's scared, help her! Three different voices screamed inside my head, causing me to jerk forward into a rear. The mare's voice was wild and frightened, demanding my name harshly. Red jaw dropped as if I were going to answer; the air I drew in with a deep breath also diluted my lungs, causing me to exhale quickly with a rough wheeze.

Before I could answer, they began mumbling in my brain again, though I ignored them the best I could. I caught "pussy" and "go now," but each demand and name calling was buried in my thoughts. The Pegasus wheeled around once more, taking off even further toward the flames. Instinctively I watched for a moment, not believing my eyes. She must have not known where she was heading. The hurried gallop that I threw myself into began with a small, unexpected rear, tightening each muscle in my back haunches. Each hoof beat against the earth heavily, the tall grass lashing at my hide as I pursued the female once again.

"Wait, you don't know where you're going!" Each voice had returned now, diminishing my mind easily. She's trying to trick you, don't follow her, you idiot. What do you think you're doing? Moron! The flame that twitched in my chest began to engulf every emotion that coursed through my fucked up mind. Instead of being concerned for her life, I now was on the path to end it myself. No, I was not wanting to end it. They were. I had no control at this point.

"You dumb bitch, where do you think you're going?!" My voice had lost it's reasonable tone of concern that it had held in my last sentence; it was now replaced with the vulgar rough tone that seemed to take over more than usual. My long stride closed in on her softly colored pelt, and I attempted to cut in front of her in order to bring the dumb mare to a halt.


EVERYTHING YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM
IS IN YOUR HEAD
[Image: 5389e9aca8b63]
Please tag him in every post!

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#5
[Image: afri_zps12e4f1bf.png]



"Wait, you don't know where you're going!" The stark pitch of a strained baritone voice spilled through the crackling air. Africa’s ears tipped backwards, the suddenness of the sound causing her stride to stumble with hesitation. Heat radiated from the dancing mass of flames; her eyes burning and watering wildly in defence, squinted forward helplessly unable to force sense through the streaming panic in her mind. She would not fall prey to the likes of malicious-minded horses of the north again, and every flex of her sinewy body renewed that desire for self preservation. Africa couldn’t have known from where her pursuer hailed any more than his intention to prevent her injury; impulsive presumption fuelled her escape.

"You dumb bitch, where do you think you're going?!” The young voice called her again, and immediately she recalled the first time she was labelled as such. That painted creature, tarnished with a cruel and proven malevolent heart had wished her dead! (or so she still believed)... His snapping yellow teeth had tried to pluck the lovely lacework of feathers from her very wings.
Africa frowned, clenching her jaws tightly to fight the choking bubble of upset in her throat from flooding her eyes.

To her horror, when she opened them again seconds later, the horse (or colt as it became quickly apparent), was launching himself madly across her path. Africa drove her heels against the unforgiving hardened earth, balking with fear as he too came to a sliding halt in front of her. “Wh... what do you want w... with me!” She shouted at him, air heaving from her lungs into a quivering mess of anger and fear; broken shrill words. Immediately, a minute confidence formed through her eyes- he was younger than she, maybe fully grown, but still far from her own adult weight. A defensive shell enveloped her flailing mind as it fought to regain composure, and she found herself sizing the colt up, unconsciously arching her neck to portray strength and vigour. Never before had she considered aggression a means to an end, and the emotion flanking her bluff was like nothing she had encountered before in herself. It was boiling energy, cured still further by the licking torment of heat against her profusely sweating hide; panic and rage that she should find herself confronted by the prospect of harm with no alternative escape.

Africa’s eyes scowled with unchecked frustration, the horrid mask unbecoming and pinching muscles that were seldom exercised in such fashion- if they had been at all previously. “Who are you colt...” Opening her wings, she flared every variable inch of her body, forcing the impression that she was a far greater threat to him than she was to her. She glared across at him, noting the strange bloodied tinge of his nose, and the spiralling protrusion between his crimson eyes.

Internally though, Africa shrank away from the impending conflict, melting into a wet puddle on the parched earth below.



"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."




Art by Nevada
Table by Ghost

Voodoo Posts: 231
Outcast atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Eight :: Birdsong HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ouija :: Arctic Fox :: None Nevada
#6

Her hooves scraped into the dry earth as she stopped, seeming to coil at my frame besides her own. Blood stained eyes watched her reaction, her words stumbling over each other in panic. My mind raced, the voices cackling in my head wildly. They must have been enjoying the pang of fear that struck this gray female so hard. Red tipped ears flicked back, listening to the roaring flames not too far away. The heat was enough to break a sudden sweat on his already dark coat, saturating target areas on his body such as his neck and under side. The mare too seemed to be sweating.

"Are you dumb? Look at how close you are to this thing!" My words raced out, wanting to escape the heat just as bad as my body did. The winged female arched her neck, demanding my name and spreading the massive appendages that hooked to either side of her withers. I watched her with intense eyes, knowing that this mare wouldn't have the air to do anything. By the way she was breathing, he was surprised she could scavenge enough oxygen out of the air to still be standing up right. She seemed to tower over me once her wings were spread out, each delicate feather parting in the thin air. I couldn't tell if the sweat had tinged her wings a darker shade as well, or if that was her natural coloring.

Why waste my precious breath on something that did not even come close to mattering at this moment? "You're confused, move out of the way and follow me." My voice stayed calm just as my composure did, but my brain ran everywhere, my thoughts darting from side to side in my skull. The voices continued, now debating on what I was doing, rather than chuckling. I pushed passed her large wings, feeling them tickle my dripping coat as I did so. If she did not want to listen and would rather run toward the open flames, so be it. I was trying to save her pitiful life. As I moved away with a collected canter, I turned my face back, causing me to shutter into a fast trot, to see if she was following.


EVERYTHING YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM
IS IN YOUR HEAD
[Image: 5389e9aca8b63]
Please tag him in every post!

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#7
[Image: afri_zps12e4f1bf.png]



It was so hot. The flames were searing, straining sweat from her sleek dappled coat, and embers danced through the air, threatening to ignite wisps of wind-blown mane. The delicate hairs lining Africa’s flaring nostrils seemed to wither, even singe with each hot breath; her lungs choked, rejecting the sour smoke which seemed to completely saturate the faltering supply of fresh oxygen. Each thundering heartbeat panged with regret, pulsing wildly against her sensitive ear drums as blood pumped furiously throughout her panicked body.
"Are you dumb? Look at how close you are to this thing!" He insisted, and while Africa defied the statement, blurting her courageous attempt to rattle his own cage, a feeling of stupidity did flush through her burning face. Africa was purely impulsive, reacting on even the slightest of whims and she was unpredictable as such.

The colt seemed generally undeterred by her last effort bluff and his dismissive voice caused her to recoil the blatant display of mock bravery. "You're confused, move out of the way and follow me." He told her; his facade appeared to be more stable than the current height of her frenzied emotion, especially given the danger bubbling and molten, uncomfortably close by.
A childishly indignant snort burst through her flaccid lips, but she followed the younger horse obediently. He muscled passed her, his hot steaming body brushing her wing for the slightest of moments as he did. Swollen and teary, her eyes struggled and strained to track his movement, so her quivering muzzle reached to touch against his rump as it swayed beneath transiently. A rush of something alien prickled her heart, but she was immature and inexperienced, and the sentiment was misunderstood and quickly discarded. Never before had her somewhat still adolescent soul encountered testosterone so intimately- and willingly.

Even as she moved to follow, the connection between them was lost as the stranger broke into a careful canter- she too stumbled forward in response, though her gait was clumsy as she endeavoured after him blurry eyed. Very quickly the air began to cool, but it remained heavily burdened with plumes of noxious smoke. Africa bumbled along awkwardly, barely noticing the stagger in his stride when he turned his face to find her, had she not been so intently focused on the drumming rhythm of his hooves against the red, dry clay, she might have barrelled on into him. “I’m Africa...” She called ahead, loudly above the throb in her ears. She was still unsure about his intent, paranoid about the manner of his stalking, but increasingly grateful that he had rescued her from the arms of doom.


[ooc: Keeping this pic for the rest of the thread ;)]


"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."




Art by Nevada
Table by Ghost

Voodoo Posts: 231
Outcast atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Eight :: Birdsong HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ouija :: Arctic Fox :: None Nevada
#8

My mind ran ramped, the voices had gone silent finally, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing at this point. Surely they would have something to say sooner or later. Hopefully later. My dark red eyes fell onto the saturated mare again who was following closely on my trail. Normally I would have ignored her after this, waited to listen to the gasping of her failing lungs and, but I watched her eyes water profusely, making me want to cringe. She had obviously taken in more of this shit than I had.

I faced forward again, quickening my pace back to a steady canter. She called herself Africa. The name stuck to my brain, the voices mumbling some thing about it over and over again. I did not respond, it would be better not to at this point. The air slowly cleared, but the scent stuck on me as if a skunk sprayed me from two feet away. Thankfully taste was not one of my senses, I'd probably be gagging right now. I had moved fairly far enough from the open fire to gasp for the cleanest air I could find. My pace came to a walk and I could feel my soaked pelt rubbing against itself in certain spots, like under each leg. It was extremely uncomfortable.

Finally, my legs, quivering, brought me to a halt. I could feel them shake underneath of me as if I had just ran for days. The grass had become more shallow behind me, the air also became less nauseating. Some what any how. The condensation running down my limbs and off of my neck felt hot and dirty. "What in the hell was going through your mind?" I drew in a deep breath, wanting to continue my question. The way the mare looked though, I would be surprised if she could form a complete sentence without gasping a few times. My forelock stuck to my face, my short mane to my neck, and strings of my tail to my hind quarters and legs.


EVERYTHING YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM
IS IN YOUR HEAD
[Image: 5389e9aca8b63]
Please tag him in every post!

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#9
[Image: afri_zps12e4f1bf.png]



The grass had shrivelled away, only rising comfortably enough to swish and tickle against the rickety black knees of the sweat lathered mare. It held its moisture easily now, here where the heat could easily have been mistaken for the mere shed of summer’s sun; standing imperially with wheat-like tips, though green and supple against the soft, mild breeze. The smoke was thinner too; the air fresher- cleansing and pure, saturating the now flimsy sheet of wishy-washy smog. Africa’s antagonised and dramatic gasping had slowed as a result, and she was able to slow her breathing which in turn calmed the thunder of her easily startled heart. Her pale, blood-shot gaze was trained to the colt that had finally slowed them, and stopped- confident maybe with the distance between the foolish mare, and the lick of suffocating flames which had so very nearly claimed her as their victim.

"What in the hell was going through your mind?" He blurted and she imagined a note of anger between the spit of his words. Uncomfortably guilty, though not willing to accept all of the responsibility, she shrugged her shoulders at him. A stubborn streak flashed through her still watering, glassy eyes. “You were chasing me!” She half shouted back in utter resentment. She looked away from what she felt was his condescending stare, closing her eyes as though to dismiss his unjustifiable accusation. Ordinarily, the sweet young creature would have been crippled knowing she had lead her company so close into the arms of danger- this young fellow though, with his snappish tongue (and minimal threat) drew the smudge of childishness cursing her character, well clear of the confines of her skin. Africa snorted lightly, and peered back at him through one narrowed eye.

Why?...” She questioned again, though some degree of her more simplistic, placid nature settled into the taught ridges of her still clenched, flinching muscles. “If you are going to stalk someone... Like you did...” She paused, turning to look squarely at him with a matter of fact blink and a curt nod, “You can’t expect them not to run away.” A reserved smile seeped through her unnaturally, even slightly comical, stern expression and she shook the length of her body- head first. “I’m sorry for getting us in trouble though.” She giggled then, still watching him, though her eyes had softened and relaxed into the apparently unthreatening atmosphere of their conversation. Africa stretched her wings upward, feeling the therapeutic crack of the delicate bones throughout, and ruffled the interlocking lacework of feathers coating them, as they fell loosely again to hang either side of her soaked barrel.

"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."



Art by Nevada
Table by Ghost

Voodoo Posts: 231
Outcast atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Eight :: Birdsong HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ouija :: Arctic Fox :: None Nevada
#10

I watched the mare shrug her thick shoulders, wondering what construction was built inside of her in order for her massive wings to be clung onto such a spot on muscle and bone. My eyes lingered back up to her own as she spoke. Was she crying, or were they still watering? No matter. As long as she wasn't going to completely break down in front of me or something. Mares.

Her voice seemed to shatter my ears compared to the soft tone she had been using earlier. Possibly because of the smoke, had it been making her choke so hard that she lost her voice for a moment? Yeah, you were chasing her, duh the now calm voices mocked me, or her, I wasn't sure at this point, but oh how badly I wanted to beat them out of my head. Some how. Fuckers. "Curiosity at first," I scoffed at her, red tipped ears rotating back in irritation. My tail ripped back and forth angrily, lashing the thick air, which I imagine is damn near thick enough to physically cut in pieces.

She spoke up again, her voice saturated with what I imagined was self concern. Her face turned back to me, her bright eyes boring into me. "If I were trying to 'stalk you,' I would have been a lot sneakier." the words "stalk you" were thick and mocking, rolling off of my tongue easily. Now that I wasn't listening to her scream in the boiling heat of the open flames, I might as well turn and leave. No, she may be useful.. somehow. That was probably the only thing they had told me that actually made sense at this point.

The dappled mare apologized, her light eyes still seeming to glisten like glass globes as she let out a silly giggle. I watched her, expressionless and unimpressed. She stretched her broad wings and something in her popped repeatedly. I clenched each muscle as the sound snapped from her body. Her frame was built and beautiful, but she was still smaller than my lengthy and not fully grown sixteen plus hands. Play with her head, make her love you I snorted softly at the pair that spoke cohesively in my brain.


EVERYTHING YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM
IS IN YOUR HEAD
[Image: 5389e9aca8b63]
Please tag him in every post!

Africa the Starry-Eyed Posts: 727
Deceased
Mare :: Pegasus :: 16 :: 6 (Tallsun) Buff: NOVICE
Silas :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Riven
#11
[Image: afri_zps12e4f1bf.png]



The still unnamed horse flicked his tail and her bleary gaze darted to his rear, snagged by the abrupt motion of his otherwise immobile posture. They returned quickly to find his unusually hued ears pinning against the tattered sprawl of hair across his poll.
His face fell blank; its demeanour remained unmoved by her perhaps goading, though sincere apology. Pretending for the time being that her feelings remained unhurt by his abrasive and considerably belligerent attitude, Africa pushed an indifferent grin across her lips. His brazen display of irritation was noticed, though remained unheeded- naturally, she presumed the bothersome foul tasting smoke must have reached its pinnacle, thus grating on his nerves.

She mimicked his cocky tone, teasing him with sparkling eyes. “Well, stran-ger...” she let the word out as an over pronounced drawl, a tiny hint of resentment betraying her annoyance that he had not revealed his name like politely, she had done- “...what are you doing now?” Personally, Africa had nothing of any true importance to do, to fill the remainder of the day- in fact, she thought with a sudden bursting eagerness, she was free to spend the afternoon with her, gloomy... saviour! Her cupped ears danced forward delightedly to relay her already obvious feelings. “Why don’t we go on an adventure!” She chimed brightly, for now choosing to bed her previous, fleeting indigence in favour of unashamed and more natural optimism. “C’monnn...” She insisted nodding slightly as though to agree on his behalf. “I promise it will be fun...

Assuring herself that the rummy-nosed colt would pursue her, Africa bounded playfully off to the right- east, and away from the fire. Adopting a mischievous, high striding trot she continued for a good length of time, until her sturdy round hooves fell upon much softer soil, tinged green with a light spattering of grass. Though she paused then, the young horse didn’t turn to see if he had followed; she would have liked such, but would find herself said adventure regardless of his attendance.


"Thinking. Speaking. Acting."



Art by Nevada
Table by Ghost

Voodoo Posts: 231
Outcast atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 :: Eight :: Birdsong HP: 61.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Ouija :: Arctic Fox :: None Nevada
#12

A light breeze drifted by, sweeping away the heavy scent just long enough for me to fill my lungs with the clean air. The mare's gray and pink muzzle stretched into a grin that plastered itself securely. I turned my face against the source of wind, the moving air feeling quite nice on my sweating hide. Africa spoke again, dubbing me "stranger" for the time being. I looked back to her, meeting her dazzling gaze with my naturally sinister stare. You should have been more like Father the voices croaked in my brain. I ignored them.

"It's Voodoo," I replied with a straight face, watching the characteristics of her gentle nature play across her face as she continued to speak. Really, I had come here to hide away from the cold for a while. The Basin had taken its' toll on my thickening pelt. This heat felt extraordinary, until the chase had begun that is. "Absolutely nothing." My tone stayed solid, but I gave up the grouchy mood that sat quietly in the back of my throat.

The mare, as giddy as she was, insisted on an.. adventure? Hadn't she just been on enough of one? Get on her good side. I sighed, tilting my black and red face to the side as if giving in to something. Just as I intended to reply, she bounced away at a swift trot. My jaw closed again, the saliva just now coming back to wet my dry tongue. Red tipped ears flicked forward, listening to the tap of her hooves on the dry ground. Though I was still so young, I knew better than to let this option go.

My front rose into the air slightly, my hind quarters bunching up excitedly before they propelled my slender body forward into a slow gallop. I reached Africa quickly, pulling my pace back to an eager canter to trail her right side. The earth became soft, feeling very relieving against my lanky legs. Suddenly the gray female came to a stop, causing me to jump to the side swiftly, spinning to face her again. My tail stayed arched like that of an Arabian's, but not as awkwardly.


EVERYTHING YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY FROM
IS IN YOUR HEAD
[Image: 5389e9aca8b63]
Please tag him in every post!


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