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Post by Kelpie-River on May 10, 2019 22:50:04 GMT -6
|| Grange | Post One ||
It was early morning in Eithne when Grange was roused from sleep by his master, Malachi. The black stallion was in one of his moods, and made no dallies when getting his point across that he was upset. Grange found himself awoken by a sharp bite to the crest of his neck, sharp enough that it drew a small amount of blood. Blinking, the tiny stallion jumped to his hooves, almost falling on his face in his haste to complete the instructions his master was sure to give him. Just as he suspected, Malachi rattled off a list of things that the thirteen-year-old was to get from the market, shoving a pouch of coins into the child's chest. Before leaving Grange to his wits, Malachi gently caressed the bite mark he'd left, causing an unpleasant shudder to run down Grange's spine. Despite the hundreds of nights that Malachi had demanded the small servile slave please him, he'd never gotten used to the feeling of the older stallion's touch, and it still turned his stomach. Grange had little time to think of this, however, as Malachi swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him. With a sigh, the small colt went about his morning routine, taking time to polish the bright blue horns that sprouted from the crest of his head, just the way he was expected to. Today, he had to take a couple extra moments to douse the teeth marks on his neck with an antiseptic solution that he kept with him for whenever Malachi got into a mood. Once he was ready for the day, Grange dressed in his ruby and leather bridle, shuddering at the taste of the golden bit between his teeth. Luckily for him, Malachi allowed him some small use of his teke, but the bit was still a reminder of his position in the stallion's house.
Now that he was ready, the colt strode through the halls of Malachi's mansion, blue hooves clicking on the marble flooring. He could practically see himself in the shininess of the floor, no doubt the work of Malachi's less-loved house slaves. Grange wondered what it would be like to be in that position. Certainly, it was a trade off. Malachi was less...lenient towards his cleaning staff. And his favorite horses were always lavished with the best of foods, drinks, and items. In fact, Grange had a room full of trinkets and baubles that Malachi had gotten for him. They seemed to make things...less painful in a way.
Sighing, Grange shook his head, and closed the heavy oak door behind him. Ahead, the sun was just barely rising of the the buildings of Valore, which glittered in a manner that belied their seedy underbelly. Grange wondered what exactly he was going to find on his venture today. Unlike many nobles, Malachi lived towards the edge of the city, where he was less likely to be bothered by others. Grange would have to venture through the alleyways of Valore, pouch in tow, and get to the markets. Hopefully the small stallion could do so without getting stopped by anyone. That was the last thing he needed today.
With a resolute sigh, Grange flicked his tail and trotted out onto the cobblestones. Soon, he found himself wandering through the criss-crossing alleyways of the city, trying to keep the market's spires and flags in sight so that he wouldn't become twisted around by the winding manner of the city's layout. But alas, he was rather short for his thirteen years of age, and soon he lost sight of the buildings that marked his destination. With a frightened huff, Grange surged forward, hoping, praying to Ignacio himself that there would be some way for him to make it out of the squalor and to the market district with little incident.
WC: 640
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Post by redspaceboyy on May 10, 2019 23:34:17 GMT -6
 Chianti
Aodhian Servile Slave The pale mare's small figure roamed through the streets with patient enthusiasm. Kaito had sent her off to use her utmost cuteness to get a few apples from the marketplace, her experience within that field giving her the best advantage.
Departing from the thick curtains that served as the scoundrels' home, Chianti followed the familiar scene around her to make her way to the first street. The walk would be long, as the young children opted to live away from the busy areas to avoid being sent off to an orphanage or foster home. She didn't mind it though, as she made the trip almost daily and knew that the time would fly by like Alya's winds.
To keep herself busy, the filly hummed a tune, one that was sang only amongst the street folk. It was a swing-type slum song, sounding more like a War-Forged tune than a proper Aodhian one. A few words were mumbled under her breath as she made her way between the slender buildings, hooves accustomed to the slippery sludge along the stone floors.
She was rather shocked to hear the sounds of hoofbeats echoing through the area, clearly hesitant in their steps. Chianti rarely came across other equines, unless they were settled near the brick walls to have a smoke or drink.
With curious steps, she walked quickly toward the source. She had always been taught that being helpful often got her rewards. Chianti excitedly ran forth upon seeing the groomed coat and shimmering bridle.
"Are you lost?" her voice rang, though it was barely a whisper. She stood a few hundred feet away, head poked around a trash bin to investigate the young boy. A servile slave. One, she believed, that had a wealthy owner. "You're runnin' around like a blind dog!"
wc: 298 | post #1 |
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Post by Kelpie-River on May 10, 2019 23:56:38 GMT -6
| | Grange | Post Two ||
The small stallion grew more and more frustrated the farther into the city that he went. No matter which way he turned, the unicorn could not discover anything even the slightest bit familiar, and he soon grew hopeless at the idea of actually getting to the marketplace. Of course, he could always turn back, and return to the house, but coming home empty handed sent a shiver down his spine. He knew just what Malachi was capable of should he become distressed, and not having what he wanted was always distressing to the noble. Just when Grange was about to give up all hope, and set himself down on the street for a good cry, the sound of another equine pricked at his ears.
Turning his head, Grange caught sight of a pale mare, somewhere about his age he supposed. She was rather striking, for those who found interest in mares, and Grange had to admit that despite her street-scruffiness, she looked like a kind soul. Besides, other than the comment about his frolicking around like a "blind dog" as she put it, so far she'd been nothing but nice to him. Many a horse would have scoffed at his inability to find his way out of a wet paper sack, but this mare seemed concerned, almost as if she wanted to help him.
"Uh...I may have gotten a little turned around," the colt replied, in a voice that was just starting to crack with puberty. On the low notes, his tone was a deep baritone, while on the high parts of his speech, the words crackled out of his mouth in a hoarse, still childish manner. "I'm trying to get to the market," he continued, dipping his head to the other foal as he began to walk slowly towards her. "Do you happen to know how to get there?" he inquired, blue eyes exceedingly hopeful as he searched the horse's face for any sign of compassion and willingness to help him.
WC: 333
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Post by redspaceboyy on May 11, 2019 16:02:15 GMT -6
Chianti
Aodhian Servile Slave She seemed gleeful at the news that he was going in the same direction. "Aye, I'm headin' there right now!" she chirped, tail waving against her nimble, underweight hips. She walked briskly forward, chipped little hooves hardly making a sound in the alley.
Her head raised, nose twitching slightly as she looked toward the sky, then the buildings around them. With a 'hmf,' the mare looked back at the other.
Her sharp complexion morphed into a much more stern expression, though it didn't lack any less inquiry about the boy's activities. "Is your neck alright?" she blurted, charcoal ears pricked forward as she grew near. "Looks like a pit fighter got ya with their chompers." Her eyes squinted narrowly, seeming to have forgotten her original plan of helping the colt to the markets.
wc: 132 | post #2 |
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Post by Kelpie-River on May 11, 2019 16:13:07 GMT -6
|| Grange | Post 3 ||
The stallion couldn't help but seem excited when he heard his new companion was headed in the direction he needed to go. Regardless of what the urchin did with her time, he was grateful for the fact that someone could lead him through the hellhole that was Valore's backstreets, until he reached the markets. It did occur to him to wonder just what it was that the filly was going to do at the market, but he brushed off that thought. Better that he didn't know, in case the Chevaliers caught up with her. The less he knew, the less he had to report later. It was a cruel way to think, to be sure, but Grange had his own survival to consider, not hers. If she wanted to skulk around waiting for every meal to appear out of thin air, that was her decision.
"What? Oh, no," he said, having almost completely forgotten about the mark on his neck. It stung slightly as he moved his head, but nothing so strong that he couldn't handle it. "I just...my master was in a bad mood this morning," he said with a shrug, as he turned to begin walking again, wishing to put the conversation about his home life behind him. "So..market," he reminded the girl, his blue eyes showing little room for conversing as he looked over to her.
WC: 231
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Post by redspaceboyy on May 12, 2019 22:49:31 GMT -6
Chianti
Aodhian Servile Slave "Your owner... bit you?" she persisted, brow furrowed and head tilted. She obviously wasn't going to give up her curiosities in favor of the other's comfort, considering the street rat had little social experience with those of higher class. "Seems kinda unnecessary, don't it? I get beatin' with a whip or givin' an ear-tug--" She paused, frown pulling her lips down. "Sorry about that, Slick." She laughed. "Let's get you to the markets!"
With that, she motioned with her head, though her smile hadn't fully returned. The filly suddenly became a quiet and docile youngster rather than a bubbly, talkative child as she walked forward through the alley. She would glance around each corner, ears perked and body still before venturing forth. There were many questions, running unfiltered and rampant in her head about the colt, but with trained etiquette, they fell into silence.
She led the party of two through the quickest route possible--only, there was a common threat of drunken equine and homeless individuals who would happily snatch up a wealthy-looking colt.
wc: 175 | post #3 |
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Post by Kelpie-River on May 13, 2019 16:19:07 GMT -6
|| Grange | Post 4 ||
Grange shrugged off the query about being bitten; it was normal for him to take the brunt of Malachi's moods, whatever kind of temper he was in, and the small stallion thought little of it anymore. A year's worth of conditioned grooming had taught him it was easier to keep his head down, and pretend that everything was fine than to go running wolf. Because no one listened when he did cry out for help, and so he'd learned that there was very little point in it.
As they continued their walk, he could see things stirring in the little filly's mind. With a heavy sigh and an eyeroll, the colt spoke again, cocking his head towards the mare as he did so. "I don't think I caught your name," he began, seeming almost grudgingly to accept that the filly had burning questions, and he might as well strike up a conversation that could answer them. "I'm Grange. And once you tell me who you are, I guess you can bug me about what it is you want to know," he admitted...graciously of course.
While he waited for the horse to respond, Grange glanced around at the roads they were taking, shivering slightly and stepping closer to the filly as if for protection. After all, there were plenty of seedy horses here which could affect their journey, and he did not want to be caught unawares. Grange was...certain...that he held value. After all, he was an attractive young thing, barely starting to gray out over a shiny champagne coat, with two slicked back Zircon horns, and vibrantly blue hooves to match. Hell, even just his bridle, studded with rubies and gold as it was, could fetch a fair price if someone managed to take it from him. Long story short, he was at risk here, and he prayed to the gods that the little filly could protect them both if it came down to that.
WC: 328
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Post by galekxy on Jul 16, 2019 17:51:52 GMT -6
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