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Post by hypnocampus on Jun 7, 2015 11:08:48 GMT -5
RUARIDH | BACHELOR | INFANTRY
If there was one thing he wasn’t prepared for at that precise moment, it was to be running for his life. If he hadn’t lifted his head when he did, he’d have been worse off. As it was the pack that pursued him had taken a good number of goes at felling him, but with every ounce of his being he’d fought free time and time again. Now? Now he found himself throwing his weight against the oncoming wind, and digging deep to find purchase against rain drenched grassland. The summer had been so arid, that when the rains eventually cascaded from the heavens, the soils drank their fill, and the rest? The rest settled in fetlock deep puddles and rivulets that all but drowned the blades of grass that struggled to stretch above the rippling surface. Rain drops bounced from his face, and soaked through the butterscotch tones of his coat as he hammered through the storm, heaving the cold and unforgiving air deep into the hollows of his chest. His breath left in violent gusts, in spiraling puffs of silver that ribboned away from cavernous nostrils.
He chanced a glance over his shoulder, but in stealing a look he stumbled carelessly. Scrambling in panic, he managed to regain his footing and just about dodged the swiping scythes, and gnashing jaws of the creatures that breathed so hotly down his neck.
The heavens had burst, the barrage of droplets and the mud had churned into an oatmeal mess beneath the stamping of massive hooves, and the clawing of padded paws in pursuit. His own blood mixed with the rain water so readily, and dribbled down his legs springing freely from fresh wounds deep in sinew. It so happened that the stallion couldn’t work out where the rain started and he finished. He exploded through a copse, barreling between trunks and narrowly missing being garroted by brambles.
He paced and powered through the tangle of thorn vines only to burst out of them scattering shards of wood and leaf in various directions. With the long, waved locks of his forelock now littered with foliage and fractured branch, he slammed on the brakes and made the split second decision to spin on a sixpence and to turn and face the pack.
The roar of a whinny all but drowned the yelp that was barely noticeable over the sounds of a large body crashing around in the undergrowth. The leaf silhouette of his ears pressed firmly against the back of his skull, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared down scornfully at the rhythmically swaying mesh of organic matter that had attacked him. It had been the culmination of a day filled to the brim with irritation and general angst. This being said, the massive form of the stallion suddenly became motionless, and his ears shot to the summit of their normal position, pricked and almost kissing at the tips as his massive roman nosed features whipped round to follow the streak of colour that burst from the thicket. The pack was in retreat, and the reasoning behind their disappearance was completely unbeknownst to him.
He frowned, swallowed hard and snapped his attention from left to right in quick succession. Cuts and tears through skin oozed generously, and the rain cleansed and dragged rich, metallic tinged rivulets down the thick pillars of his legs, to pool beneath him. He lowered his head, ears flagging, and breath still heaved with some effort. His vision swum before him, and whilst he struggled to focus through the dim, dappled light, his attention caught the flash of colour again.
Ruaridh flinched, barely retaining enough energy to take another step, his jaw set stubbornly and instead of throwing himself into another flight, he squared his shoulders, and managed to lift his head a fraction higher-
“Who’s there?” The gravel edge of his voice barely reached over the sounds of the woods, and his words were all but breathed between parched lips.
He struggled to focus on whatever it was, straightening his posture to better align his head and neck. With the warm turquoise of his eyes narrowed, and his nares dilated to better sample the breeze that betrayed pretty much anyone that it touched.
//Words: 700
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poedogs
Bachelor Herd 
New Foalie on the way
Posts: 144 
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Post by poedogs on Jun 7, 2015 11:35:29 GMT -5
The stag was making his way through the fallen ruins of the City. Long slender legs helped him to easily pick a path through the torn cobble paths and the deadly vine traps lying here and there. Silvery horns glinted in the little light still peering through the clouds, but all hell was about to break loose. Thundering and lightening had been streaking across the skies all morning and finally would be releasing the rain much forewarned.
"Oh daughter," he said quietly to no one in particular. None would understand him really, so he need not bother masking his voice.
"Are these your tears for such a broken old father?" His daughter had gone missing and none could console him. The rain now pelting down upon him had brought up bitter memories. The marsh, the marsh where he had met Ba'Yagu and gotten the much needed herbs for Greer. The herbs that ensured survival in both mare and foal. The good luck charm. Maybe he would be heading to the marsh after all. If he managed to survive the torrents of water that could flood and sweep him away, he could possibly find consolation in the place that had brought him his family. He began on his journey, approaching the small plains around the city. There were yips and then there was a whinny. Cethin began to pick his way along the plains at a full gallop and slowly came to a stop at the edge of the trees. He could see a horse, butterscotch-colored Ruaridh. There was a whinny again. Oh yes, language barriers eh? and the great stag slowly shifted in the brush. Taking only a few moments of pain to complete the shift.
"Ah yes, hello there Ruaridh. Looks like you've gotten yourself in a bit of a predicament." The stallion smiled coldly as he took in Ruaridh's scars and bloody coat. Must've gotten the bad end of a deal with a moose. Or a pack or beasts. Maybe even a quiver back.
[336 Words] |
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Post by hypnocampus on Jul 21, 2015 11:16:32 GMT -5
A touch of bad luck. Yeah, ok that was a complete understatement. To be honest? It seemed that everything he had touched most recently had crumbled into non-existence, so why would today be any different? Possibly a rather stark view on things, but, it was an unfortunate truth.
Ru's muscles quaked beneath the marred gold of his pelt. Rich, metallic liquid oozed generously from deep lacerations, and lengthy slices through his hide and sinew- and the rain dragged lines down his limbs, allowing blood-red to tinge the puddles that gathered beneath him. He glanced over his shoulder, the bushes rustling with the promise of something yet untold. What he thought resembled a stag, soon materialized as a familar face, and despite the familiarity, he remained as still as possible, simply due to the pain that coursed through his form like fire, despite the chill in the air. He frowned, his brows knitting together as he set about settling his focus on Cethin, and then, with characteristic grumpiness, he rolled his eyes, huffing a soft sigh that passed through his nostrils.
"Uh, yes. You could say that..." Though, 'no shit Sherlock' may, or may not have been the sentence that floated at the back of his mind despite the words delivered. He grumbled softly, flicking his dual-toned tail and allowing his dark tipped ears to fall back against his skull momentarily. Why on EARTH had he left the herd this morning? He should have listened to his gut instinct. Everything suggested that today would be nothing but negative, so why not just... Listen to that feeling? Any other normal individual would've done. Perhaps he was just stubborn, who knew?
"Grass beasts." Simple. To the point. All but spat between lips rendered into a grimace as he shifted his weight. His large hooves scraping over moistened gravel- "They're persistent beggars..." He huffed, toe-touching with his left hind uncomfortably.
Relief to see another so cold, and snarky, was less than obvious. It was a strange comfort.
"Looking for anything in particular?"
[words: 339]
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poedogs
Bachelor Herd
New Foalie on the way
Posts: 144
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Post by poedogs on Aug 2, 2015 19:18:57 GMT -5
"No, I don't believe so, definitely not to go help your petty little butt get out of trouble." The stallion said rather haughtily. It was all banter, Cethin had no qualms with Ruaridh. He examined the stallion's wounds.
"I'm guessing you won't be able to make it to the herd. Let's get you some cobwebs then. Lay down, I'll think you're an idiot if you stay standing old man." Cethin was nothing short of bossy about it, but he turned around not waiting to see if Ru had actually sat down. That was risky, speaking so carelessly to someone who was both older and probably smarter than you. Whatever, what was said was said. The stallion stalked away rather unhappily, rain always put him in a bad mood. Having to help someone who was so stubborn was as well. Who cared? He was on his way to find dry cobwebs in a damned downfall. Why couldn't Ru have been attacked in the sunshine, or rather not been attacked at all. There was a rustling and the stallion saw the scurry of a squirrel as it disappeared under some roots. So the stallion poked his head into the musty cavern and found what he'd been looking for.
He made his way back to Ruaridh with the ball of cobweb delicately wrapped in a leaf to keep it from getting soaked. Why was he going through all this trouble? Yes because the brotherhood mattered more than anything, not because Cethin was feeling nice and dandy today.
He came near the older stallion and dropped the bundle and looked dully at him.
"I would most prefer it if you were able to wrap most of your own wounds and plaster the web on the others." Cethin flicked his ears and cocked a hoof, now Ru had everything he needed to at least stop the bleeding. He wouldn't die from it, most likely.
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