Grazin'...

[~¤~.:. •)_atima• .:. ~¤~]

Prancer eagerly leaped over the fence to the pastue, a crimson blur. The fence could've been at least 5 ft. high. She cleared it as if it were a trottign pole, easily making it to a good 8 ft in the air, and landing on strong pillars, and she regained her smooth glide over the grass. She was nohing more than a crimson blur as she ran at 30 MPH. And she wasn't half trying. She suddenly halted herself, rearing up on her pistons.

[xxequestrianxx]

Chocolate brown orbs watched the mare leap over the wooden fence. They watches secretly. Silently. Far enough away from the wicked humans, but close enough to clearly see everything. The stallion's sleek silver body, dapples scattered about, was shaded and hidden by the growth of the trees above. Though the wind still tossed about his silky banner, and threw his forelock repeatedly in his eyes, it wasn't enough to attract attention. The only thing the humans might catch sight of is the sparkle in his eye, but that could very easily be mistaken as the eye of a deer. The only one that would know he was there would be the mare, and that was only because of a horse's keen sense of smell.

As much as Dusk wanted to keep his distance, he was so curious. How he wished to truly communicate with the mare that had so easily cleared that fence. Cautiously, he extended a slender leg and stepped foreward. Before long, his pillars were propelling him closer and closer. Soon he was in sight of both human and horse. But most importantly, horse. He tossed his long, slightly dished head and lifted his forefeet off the ground a slight bit, whinnying softly into the wind to catch the attention of the mare if it had not already been caught.

[~¤~.:. •)_atima• .:. ~¤~]

Crimson tainetd bodice halted abruptly as a sound reached one of ehr harks, She swivvled it, listening for more. Again it came. A soft flaring of her caverns and a turn of her also slightly dished facade told her what the creature was: Stallion. She had a bad reputation with stallions. Automaticly she assumed defenceive position, pinning her futes and tucked her tassel between hr pistons. Was this stag good? The thoguht made her loosen her strees.

[xxequestrianxx]

Upon seeing the mare take up a defensive stance, Dusk took a small step back and dipped his head, indicating that he was not looking to harm her. After a moment of stillness, he trotted swiftly foreward, his sharp daggers lightly moving him across the ground. He arched his nape, stepping up from behind, carrying himself with the same dignity and pride that brought such a good name to his Arabian ancestors. His ink-hued orbs stared cautiously about, his auds flicking this way and that, always alert, his long, sturdy pillars prepared to propell him away at any instant.

He switched gracefully from a trot to a canter, his legs moving in a graceful one-two-three motion, carrying him over the short distance beautifully. He came to a halt as he reached the fence, and lifted his head, taking in the scents around him. He paused, standing still as a statue. His silver coat shined brilliantly as the sun hit it, and his muscles quivered lightly under his skin. After a moment of silence, the stag relaxed, and looked to the mare, letting a whicker escape his velvet kissers.

[~¤~.:. •)_atima• .:. ~¤~]

Safe. Prancers nares quivered as she saw the stag at the fence. She knew his blood. Pure Egyptian Arabian. Just like her. Yet different in so many ways. She had come from a line of Royal Arabians in the desert of Arabia. All had been the same color as her: A beautiful flame-licked chestnut. As she picked up into a smooth two-beat, her banner bounced behind her, the silver strands in the crimson waterfall glowing like starlight. Sterling daggers plodded neatly as she did what she did best: Prance. It was smooth, as if she never touched the ground, and was silently glided instead. Tranquil sapphire chasms sparkled with curiosity, nape was arched while both tassel and dial were held high, for Prancer was a held but a little pride.

"Good morn, stag"

The words flowed through her maw like honey, for they were sweet like the Lark's call in the ice of winter, yet stunning as the raven's cry in the crisp of dawn. The words were not so much sang, as they were heard, for no one uttered them, but they were most certainly there. Somewhere, off in the distance of the looming mountains, there was a flute, and oh! it played so marvelously a tune, that the words that sounded in silence, were accompanied perfectly. The song was a ballad, and if one were to sing it, it would seem so beautiful, it would bring tears to your eyes. But upon hearing the ballad, you did not cry, for there was no one there to sing it, because they had all long passed. The czaress that it talked of was as marvelous as the song, for her canvas gleamed with such beauty, her pools bright as the sun, her mind strong as a steel chain. And she walked with an air of blitheness, but in truth, she was lost in her life. Utterly, terribly lost.

[/color]

[xxequestrianxx]

Dusk lifted his slender head yet again as several sounds echoed through his mind. Strong he was in the wild. In the wild he was the predator and the animals below him were the prey. Here, he felt the fear of the prey, as well as the distinct curiosity that pulled them towards their quick end. Any stallion that dared challenge him scared him not, but these things, these... humans... so small, yet so deadly, very much like a rattlesnake coiled in the grass, ready to strike.

The sweet song of the mare reached him, causing him to flick his auds in her direction. He kept his attention on his surroundings, however, for the time being, letting a smooth, low, 'Lo, fae," slide through his velvet kissers. His nostrils flared and his eyes moved rapidly, his stomach not enjoying the nervous feeling the place gave him. He absentmindedly lifted a foreleg and struck the ground with a sharp, ebon dagger, ripping the dirt from underneath him. The scents and smells were all too different up close. The smells of horses mixed unnaturally with the scent of what he assumed were humans.

After a long moment, he turned back to the fae, trying his best to swallow his fear, once again forcing himself to appear proud and dignified, though his legs still remained locked, ready for any danger to come his way.

"I be dubbed Dusk Rising, M'lady, but Dusk will do," he whistled, remembering his manners, using M'lady rather than simply 'fae.' He took this time to look at the sleek mare, instantly recognizing her fiery coat of crimson as a sign of her heritage. He himself was not blessed with the flame-kissed pelt that was given to those with royal blood. Though, his shining silver fur was not something to be ashamed of by any means.

"You... like it here, M'lady?" he asked, yet again looking around cautiously. The place was strange indeed, with fences everywhere very much like the one the mare had just cleared moments ago. Some fences had horses within them, others were empty, some had jumps, and some had barrels. Each and every one was a prison in the eyes of Dusk Rising. Each and every one was meant to hold him within their grasp and never let him out. He turned his gaze back on the mare, and held it there, so curious how an Arabian with a Royal Pelt would come to be a slave to humans.

[~¤~.:. •)_atima• .:. ~¤~]

"Dusk Rising"

The words were stranged, but instantly logged in Prancer's child-like mind. Her aqua chams were deep with wisdom, like that of the old, yet bright clear, like that of the young. But in a way, they were different. They were like the eyes of those who have seen too much; or those who do not want to see anymore. The were foggy now, reflecting nothing but loneliness.

"Well, M'lord, I cannot say I am amused by these humans"

Her words echoed, hollow in tone and monotonous in rythem. She tossed ehr long forelock above, letting it come between her optics so perfectly. She lightly reared up n his pistons, letting a small nicker out for Veronica, the one who and taken her soul to be here. Dusk must leave. Now. Before Veronica came. And now, she Prancer's fearful pools could see Veronica's silouthee.

"M'lord! You must leave! Before they catch you, just like they did me!"

The words came out like a cry, and a cry it was. Prancer begged him to leave, before he was caught as well. Dusk didn't deserve the life Prancer had. She was a fool to go the Zzyzx Cove, she was a fool to have thought she was safe there. ANd now this was the price she had to pay. Alone.

[/color]

[xxequestrianxx]

The glorious stag lifted up onto his haunches in surprise as she cried at him to leave. His sharp daggers sliced through the thin air, his shrill call drifting easily across it. The fae's words didn't register in his mind at first. He simply stood there, rocked back on his hindquarters, for a short moment, before landing with a soft thump and lifting his head high, eyes searching the surrounding land frantically.

Despite the mare's warnings, he remained where he was. His ink-hued pools were wide with caution and nervousness, and his breath blew hard through flared nostrils. His legs braced, ready to run, but not carrying him anywhere. The fiery, competitive, protective stallion within him simply wouldn't let him leave this mare by herself. Not this mare, certainly. Not a mare of royal blood. Though he was sure he wouldn't leave any mare behind, this wasn't any mare.

He desperately wanted to run. He tried with all his might, but he imagined the mare as one of his family. He would rather die than leave his family in danger. This mare had a family, too. He tossed his intelligent head, and struck the earth as he often did when he was deep in thought, debating with himself.

As he made up his mind, his front feet lifted from the ground again, and he spun quickly, sprinting back towards the shelter of the nearby trees. His legs reached far underneath him, his tallons pushing off the hard earth frantically. He reached the trees and spun quickly, backing slightly into the shelter, though not nearly as much as before.

He remained there, head lowered, catching his breath as he kept his gaze on the fae. His head lifted to the wind, and he caught the scent of something strange. Humans, he supposed. The smell was so different, almost sickening to his stomach, not so much because of the scent itself, but because of what the source of the scent did. Standing as still as he could, he watched on, never taking his eye off the mare, ready to charge into the scene if need be.

[araben96]

Veronica needed no new horses she let them be but was ready to defend her mare if nessarsary