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Post by bellasuem on Dec 27, 2016 13:10:28 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
Marea looked over the last of her remaining goods, all of which were broken or otherwise rendered useless now that they had been carelessly tossed aside and scattered in the dirt. She kicked aside a scrap of torn leather and winced as pain lanced down her shoulder. She snorted in anger and frustration as she recalled the days events. It started off well enough, she had sold a fair bit of her goods, but a little over half still remained in her cart when a pair of horses ambushed her on the road. Thinking that perhaps the duo were used to their victims rolling over the moment they appeared, Marea made a move on one of them, hoping to scare them off if they saw she wasn't about to relinquish her goods without a fight. It wasn't to be, however, and after exchanging a few blows it became clear that they weren't going to shy away from a challenge. Marea begrudgingly accepted that no amount of goods were worth dying on a deserted strip of the road over, so she submitted. The pair had snatched her coin purse, a few silks she was planning on selling in Skeldr, a couple pairs of leather bracers and fittings, and the remaining jewelry she had squirreled away under a sack of apples. Oh, and they had taken the apples too, she remembered, spotting the remains of the burlap sack on the ground.
Aside from a few cuts and bruises, though, she was fine. Frustrated and fuming, but fine. Her wagon lay on its side a few paces away, so she tipped it upright and checked it for damaged. A wheel had come lose, but it should make it back to Skeldr as long as she stayed on even terrain. Thinking better of it, she turned back to collect the pieces of leather the thieves had tossed to the side. No one would buy them now that they were torn, but she would give them to her god daughter, Faelyn, to play with when she got back home. The little filly would make some little craft or another with them, she thought, might as well have something good come out of this mess.
Once Marea had tossed whatever she could salvage back in her wobbly cart, she noticed something half-buried in the dirt. Leaning down, her mouth formed a small 'o' as she realized what it was. She gave the tiny fossil a shake to rid it of dirt, and held it up to the sun. She still wasn't quite sure of what to think about the stallion she had met a few days ago, despite the fact that he was nearly the only thing on her mind since she had left him that afternoon on the muddy game trail. Could he really be a Bloody Flank? The idea seemed to impossible to her, that she somehow met one of them on a deserted trail and lived to tell the tale. Not only that, but they had shared a mostly-pleasant talk and exchanged gifts on top of it all. Marea shook her head, but something made her take a moment to tie the little ornament into her mane.
Turning back to the task at hand, she plodded back over to her cart to give it a final once-over before she resumed her journey home. At least now I won't be a target for thieves, she thought dryly, I've got nothing left for them to steal.
WC: 586
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Post by tallshiips on Dec 27, 2016 13:58:32 GMT -6
Cormac 
The greatest treasure is not of silver nor gold; the most illustrious conquest is the heart.
Cormac glanced at the two horses as they sped past him, adorned with jewellery and with saddle bags stuffed to the brim with market goods. Someone had got lucky today, at least, he thought, the bitterness apparent in his voice. He had made the journey all the way to the coast in search of those materials, only to be told that the merchant was 'on holiday'. What a load of bull if he'd ever seen any. More likely he had been scared off by Vidar's appearance in Skeldr with Astrid, and no longer wanted anything to do with his clan. It was a great shame, too, because he'd been a decent horse with even better wares and Cormac had been a loyal customer for several seasons. Alas, it wasn't to be, and he'd been forced to begin the long journey back empty-handed.
But he hadn't been entirely empty-handed, for there was a small burlap sack nestled at the bottom of his travelling bag filled with a tea from Skeldr. He was sure Astrid or one of the medics would have some use for the exotic leaves, even if he didn't. Trudging onward, he tried not to dwell on the waste of time this journey had been - he had been too downhearted even to stop for a drink at a travellers inn, preferring to get the beginning of the journey over with through the night, so he could rest through the day and generally be left alone. He wasn't in the mood for socialising, it's fair to say, after that. It was a risk he'd run, though, and the dice had come up in favour of anyone but him. He'd just have to stop off at the travelling merchant's stalls by the side of the War Lord's road, where he ran a greater risk of being recognised, but at least could be sure of finding something that he needed.
Something glinted on the ground, half-buried in the mud at his feet. At first, it appeared worthless, a glass bead alone was nothing special, but just to the side of it was a small silken bag. Looking for something, anything, to brighten his day, he lifted it from the dirt and opened the strings to peer at its contents. Sadly, he was disappointed again - it was empty - and tossed it over his shoulder to the side of the path. Though it was pretty, it was worth very little without the jewels he presumed had once rested inside.
He thought nothing of it as he walked on, journeying perhaps for ten minutes before he stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him was the scene of a crime, surely - deep hoofprints scarred the earth at his feet, leather scraps and other broken wares scattered along the ground, several drops of blood adorning the bark of the trees on either side of the trail. And as he looked up, came the second surprise of the evening: stood in front of him, busying himself with her cart, was a chestnut mare with a broad white marking on her wither. He immediately recognised her.
"Marea?" He called into the darkness ahead of her, "Marea, is that you? Are you okay?" The words kept coming, and in the rush, he'd forgotten the way he left her, forgotten the tension that had grown between them on their last meeting. No, all he remembered was the way she'd looked at him, and the colour of her eyes - green.
583 words || post 1
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Post by bellasuem on Dec 27, 2016 17:00:59 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
Marea looked up with a start, not expecting anyone to know her name out on this desolate stretch of the road, and hurriedly turned to face the source. "O-oh!" she managed, caught thoroughly off guard at the sudden appearance of a stallion she didn't even think she would see again, let alone now, "Yes... yes I'm mostly fine," she answered. Cormac appeared out of the gloom and faced her with an expression that she guessed was quite similar to her own. She glanced at her ruined wares strewn about the ground and then to her cart, before she let out a long sigh. As peculiar as it may be, she felt relieved that he was here. "I had a run in with a pair of thieving bastards is all," she explained, grinding a hoof into the soft earth, imagining it was one of those miscreant's skulls, "I tried to stop them but it wasn't worth dying over a few silks and bracers," she muttered, glaring out into the darkness. Her muscles ached and she was ready to sit herself down right then and there. Shifting her weight, she continued, "I didn't expect to see you again," she admitted, meeting his eyes for a moment "At least, not so soon," she added quickly, unwilling to appear foolish in front of him. "I hope you fared better than I have," she murmured, giving the dark stallion a quick once-over. She found herself relieved to see that he appeared fine, at least physically.
Suddenly she felt very tired. The day had been one of the worst, business-wise, that she had had in a long, long time, and she loathed having to return home to Skeldr empty handed after all the trouble she went through to reach her sellers. She frowned as she thought back to the muddy trails she had been forced to take, and the hot sun that had replaced the usual brisk weather she was used to. 'I hope those cut-purses break a leg on their way to sell my goods,' she thought spitefully. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she let out a short chuckle, "At least they didn't get the tea," she attempted to jest, sheepishly meeting Cormac's gaze again to see if he was in fact the joking type. Marea wasn't sure why she did it, she had no reason to joke in her position, but it just slipped out.
WC: 408
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Post by tallshiips on Dec 28, 2016 12:01:21 GMT -6
Cormac
The greatest treasure is not of silver nor gold; the most illustrious conquest is the heart.
"I had a run in with a pair of thieving bastards is all, I tried to stop them but it wasn't worth dying over a few silks and bracers," The stallion's features softened as he listened, realising that she was mostly okay, if a little shaken. As their eyes met, only for a fleeting second, but a second nonetheless, he searched them for any sign that she was upset at seeing him, or wanted to be alone. But he saw none of that, and soon she confirmed it. "I didn't expect to see you again, at least, not so soon. I hope you fared better than I have," Her words brought a small smile to his face, and without thinking he gently bumped her pink muzzle with his own. The spell was broken as he realised what he'd done, the barriers that he'd pushed aside, and shuffled his hooves anxiously as he waited for the rebuke that she would surely offer presently.
"Ach, sorry...." his words faded to nothing and his brain seemed to turn to mush as he thought of something intelligent to say, "I'm glad you're not hurt, for the nearest medic is miles away, as I'm sure you know." He paused, looking her over again to see if he'd missed any injury or ailment the first time. But no, everything looked fine, and so he continued, "Alas the merchant was away from his post, and not due to return for several months, so I'm returning empty-handed for the moment." He chose not to tell her of his suspicions that this was not the entire or whole truth, for she surely had enough problems of her own. He tried to rationalise his overprotective behaviour, but could not find any reason as to why he should care so much about this mare, still a stranger to him, and be so concerned for her welfare.
Her laugh, though short, seemed to brighten the space between them and repel the encroaching darkness. "At least they didn't get the tea," Their eyes met again for a second, as he reached for the tea that was safely hidden at the base of one of his sheaths with his telekinesis. The bag glowed softly red as he opened it, emptying its contents into the air before catching them. The exotic aroma of the pile of leaves filled the air and Cormac looked at her. "You never did tell me what type of tea this was, Marea?"
422 words || post 2
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Post by bellasuem on Dec 28, 2016 15:21:15 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
Marea involuntarily drew back from the contact, surprised at the sudden intimacy of it. Her mind reeled for a moment, but gradually she realized she did not dislike it; quite the opposite was true, in fact. Taking a step forward, she quickly apologized, not wanting him to think she had acted on purpose, "I'm sorry, you surprised me was all," she said, smiling softly, "I'm happy to see a friendly face out here, after all this," she added, gesturing at the wreckage of her inventory. Sighing and taking another step forward, she bumped her head against the side of Cormac's neck, "I am happy to see you," she specified. It was the truth, no matter how peculiar it may be to feel such an immense sense of relief at seeing someone you had only met on one other occasion. And a questionable occasion, at that.
"No need to apologize," she said, drawing back and chuckling awkwardly for a moment, "But yes, I'm glad they were more interested in my goods than with me," she agreed, knowing it would be much harder to drag herself back to Skeldr with a broken leg as opposed to a broken cart wheel. "This just means I'll have to travel though more mud and back-water trails sooner than I'd like," she frowned, not looking forward to having to replenish her wares so soon. But, as Cormac had pointed out, it was better that than the alternative. She suppressed a shiver and gave her body a rousing shake; it may be summer but that didn't stop the mountain chill from creeping into the land once the sun had set. Marea listened to Cormac describe his own wasted journey, and she snorted, "Well, I suppose the gods weren't looking favorably on either of us this week."
Marea inhaled deeply as he poured out the tea leaves, wishing she was back in her home brewing a cup over the fire. Then again, Cormac would not have been there. "Chamomile and lavender," she answered, "Along with a couple 'secret' ingredients that the shop owner refuses to tell anyone," she continued with a small chuckle. "It's supposed to be calming, you know, to help with relaxation," she explained. If you asked her, any cup of warm, good-smelling tea did that, but then again she was no herbalist so perhaps the particulars escaped her. She shrugged and smiled at Cormac, "It tastes good and smells even better, so I enjoy it."
WC: 415
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Post by tallshiips on Dec 29, 2016 6:49:22 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider  He waited for the rebuke that would surely come, but none was offered. Instead, the words that left her lips were gentle and tender. "I'm sorry, you surprised me was all," She began, before her features were graced with a smile, "I'm happy to see a friendly face out here, after all this, I am happy to see you," As her soft muzzle touched his neck, he was taken by surprise and stiffened, expecting to be hit or bitten. But the only thing he felt was the velvety touch of her fur against his own, red against black, intertwining just for a moment before she pulled away. But she did not step back, holding his crimson gaze with her own. But yes, I'm glad they were more interested in my goods than with me. This just means I'll have to travel through more mud and back-water trails sooner than I'd like. Well, I suppose the gods weren't looking favorably on either of us this week."
"I'm happy to see you too," he said, blurting out the words before he fully understood their meaning. The moment had passed, but he had not been ready then, distracted by her soft touch on his neck, only coming to terms with his feelings as he spoke. Noticing her shiver, without a word he pulled out the flint and steel that he kept tucked safely away at the base of a leather pouch, and took a few steps away to pull some dry leaves and dead sticks from the forest floor. Quickly, used to the northern cold that could suck all life out of you in minutes once the sun set, he threw the kindling into a pile at his feet. Bending down to better see, he delicately balanced the sticks in the shape of a rough teepee, before looking up at her, satisfied with his handiwork. It was an interesting perspective, looking up at her from below, for the only horse he'd ever had to physically look up to was Ansgar, his older brother. But, he decided with a nod, he looked up to her in that he admired her, even though she was an inch or so shorter than him. Striking the flint against the steel with a flourish, he watched as sparks leapt into the kindling and began to hungrily devour the dry leaves that lay there. They shrivelled in the heat, before blackening, then turning to a pile of ash to be carried away on the breeze.
Chamomile and lavender, what an unusual flavour. He could not see the attraction of such strangely flavoured water, but did not question it. After all, she was entitled to her opinion just as well as he was. But there was something more than that. He felt himself treading carefully so he didn't harm her, in the same way that he'd done for Hilda, his childhood nanny, after her husband had been murdered. But he shook his head of such thoughts - they were only going to make him angry - and he needed to make sure that Marea was surely fit before he left her and went on his way. He knew how shock could mask the true pain of an injury, and didn't want to leave her only for her to discover an injury previously unbeknownst to her that would make it impossible for her to make it to safety. Perhaps, if she was willing, it might be best if he stayed, just for the moment at least.
583 words || post 3
Notes; sorry for the delay, I was working on his BB Code! What do you think? |
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Post by bellasuem on Dec 29, 2016 11:12:17 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
'I’m happy to see you too,’ Marea felt her cheeks warm as Cormac returned the sentiment. The pair stood silently for a moment, seemingly caught up in their own separate forays of emotion, until Cormac deftly put himself to work preparing some kindling and tinder for a fire. Marea wanted to say something; to stop him, maybe, and assure him it wasn’t worth the trouble, but he seemed intent on his work so she watched patiently as he coaxed an ember out of the flint. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she took advantage of his preoccupied state and put all her energy into memorizing what he looked like. His dark coat, and his long mane - Marea never could understand how any horse would choose to bother with all that hair out here, but she had to admit that the exotic look suited him. After all, who was to say they would ever meet again? The fact that they had run into each other a second time was already more than she had dared to hope for, and so soon. Sure, it wasn't under the best circumstances; she had been robbed and he had missed his merchant by way of a few months.
When he paused briefly to look up at her, she smiled again, hoping she hadn’t been caught. She lowered her head to inspect the ever-growing fire, “Are we camping now?” she asked with a small laugh, though she wasn’t displeased to have some warmth return to her bones. She sidled closer to both Cormac and the fire, “You really didn’t have to do this,” she began, “Though I am grateful. I don’t want to hold you up if you’re on a schedule,” she added, searching his face for any sign that he was eager to depart and be on his way again. Marea figured he might want to continue his search for repair materials as soon as he could.
She had resolved herself to forge on through the night, injuries or no injuries, and rely on the physical exertion of towing a broken cart to keep herself warm. But now that the fire was crackling in front of her, radiating a welcoming warmth, she felt her resolve to leave slowly slipping away. As selfish and foolish as it was to think, she found herself hoping Cormac would stay with her for a bit. Not for protection, though the presence of a fit stallion would go a ways in deterring anymore hostile visitors, but simply for the companionship. She pondered just how wise her next statement was, but in the end she decided the risk was worth the potential reward. "But I certainly wouldn't mind if you stayed. After all, this is technically your fire," she pointed out.
WC: 474
Notes: Ooooooooh it looks great! I love the lineless style <3 Why does he have to be so darn handsome x.x
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Post by tallshiips on Dec 29, 2016 14:59:01 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider Her laugh was like music to his ears, or the sound of a clear brook to a parched tongue. “Are we camping now?” Her wit seemed to always bring a smile to his face, and he attempted to fire back some of his own, though he had never been renowned for it.
"Ach, I forgot the tent!" He stomped his hoof in mock frustration and laughed gently at his own joke. His laughing ceased, though, as she came closer to him and began to speak once more. “You really didn’t have to do this, though I am grateful. I don’t want to hold you up if you’re on a schedule,” On a schedule? The thought made him laugh inside. He had as much of a schedule as a wanderer ever had - coming and going with the only specification that he needed to be back home by the time winter came.
"No, no, I could never live with such a thing dictating how every minute of every needs to be spent. Much better to go with the wind, take risks and grab opportunities with both hooves. At least, that's what I live by," he added, conscious that he'd grown a little enthusiastic in his soliloquy. The silence was welcome as they stood, side by side, next to the steadily growing fire that radiated warmth in all directions. He shook his mane of some imaginary burr or leaf and watched as the large ammonite that rested on his chest was illuminated by the glow of the fire. Looking at her, head tilted slightly to one side, he drunk in her appearance. The red gleam of her coat, the exotic green of her eyes, and- what was that. He moved his head closer and saw that she was wearing his ammonite gift to her, tied loosely in her mane. He didn't know why, but the sight of it there, mirroring his own, warmed his heart in a way that the fire could never do.
He ignored her statement, listening but seeing no need to respond, instead exhaling deeply into the night. He gently, tenderly, bumped her wither with his muzzle, asking permission before he opened his teeth and began to softly groom the base of her neck. He worked slowly, nibbling quietly upon her as he inched his way towards her wither, and that peculiar scar that lay there. He paused above it, waiting for a sign that he could go on, and continue down her back. But he respected her limits, and if she didn't trust him fully yet he understood. His crimson eyes met hers as he drank in her scent, watching and waiting.
444 words || post 4
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Post by bellasuem on Dec 29, 2016 18:10:28 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
"We'll have to make do without the tent, then," she continued, "We'll definitely be colder, but we'll have a better view of the stars at least," she tilted her head critically, "I suppose that's a fair trade." Marea was confident they wouldn't freeze; it was summer, after all, and with the fire going the chill in the air should be kept at bay quite nicely. She quirked her ears as Cormac revealed more about himself, and at that moment it was easy to think of him as a simple loner, but she knew in her heart that that was not the case. She didn't want the particulars of Cormac's back ground to cloud her opinion of him, but it was difficult to separate the countless horror stories she had been told about his Clan from the stallion that was in front of her. "Hmm," she hummed, "You paint a pretty picture," she commented once he had finished. Marea could appreciate the romanticism of living a truly free life, but she would be lost without her ledger. If she didn't keep track of her buying and selling trips then her business would be ruined.
Marea wasn’t caught off guard this time as Cormac nosed the side of her neck, but she had to admit that she was a bit surprised as he started nibbling along her mane, as if they had known each other for years. The sudden personal attention was like having an itch scratched that Marea had been unable to reach herself, and she couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped her mouth. It was no secret that she had no more than a couple close friends back in Skeldr, one was a Weather Witch who lived up on the face of the mountain, and the other was a Traveling Merchant like herself. Needless to say, she didn’t see them as often as she liked.
Perhaps that was why she made no move to stop Cormac, and instead leaned into his gentle touch. That is, until he paused just at her withers. A sudden pang of anger, and - as much as she tried to repress it - sadness crept into her mind as her thoughts were dragged away from the glowing warmth of the fire and back to the cold ground as her then-fiance loomed over her, threatening her very life all over again. She held no sense of embarrassment over the scar, no - it was a very tangible sign that she could, and would, survive anything the gods might throw at her. But she had misplaced her trust before, and she would not do it again.
“Are you really a Bloody Flank?”
The question hung in the cool night air between them. Marea made no move to stop Cormac, or discourage his actions, but she wanted to know how he would choose to answer.
WC: 483 |
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Post by tallshiips on Dec 30, 2016 8:25:37 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider Marea's sigh was all the encouragement he needed to continue his gentle grooming along the line of her mane, so he enjoyed her scent for a few moments as he worshipped her topline. But as he neared her wither - her scarred, permanently marked wither - he felt her grow stiff and tense, perhaps remembering the fateful time which had earned her this mark of survival. His ears flicked towards her, musing whether now was a good time to probe into her past and discover the origins of such a mark, but her next words cut him off abruptly.
"Are you really a Bloody Flank?"
His stomach churned and his grooming faltered as the question sunk in, and he took a half-step back to meet her gaze. As much as he didn't think it mattered where he hailed from, it clearly did to her, and he struggled to suppress the tide of anger that was slowly rising within him. His mind battled between acting as if it was not a big deal, as to him, it wasn't - he wouldn't have cared if she was an Aodhian slave or an exotic Talorian Empress - yet the very nature of the fact that she brought it up showed that she did indeed care, and that hurt him. His formerly soft gaze turned to steel as he met hers, and he pulled himself together with a snort of contempt.
"Would it make a difference if I was or I wasn't?" He began, struggling to find his stride, "Would it matter to you if my family were labelled as barbarians for just trying to survive? Would you see me differently, trust me less, not be comfortable standing by my side? Would you be hypercritical of my every action, just waiting for me to make a mistake? Or would you go further - would you want to take my life, to make your home seem a little safer? Would you be afraid of me, Marea?" He took a step backwards, away from the warmth of the fire and the chestnut mare by its side.
"For the little it's worth, I wouldn't care whether you were an Empress of a faraway land or a labour slave, shackled to a post and covered in dirt and bearing diseases. Are you really so vain and shallow as to judge a horse by their origins, the herd or minority they were born into? Do you really believe that the influence of someone's parents is so strong that they can't break out, be their own person?" The anger grew, threatening to swallow him whole, but he managed to suppress it. He channelled his anger into his words, the anger from a life of oppression and discrimination, the anger at being forced to live up to those stereotypes just to be able to survive on that desolate, unforgiving ice on the north side of Skeldr.
"If it appeases you to know, though I suspect you had an inkling already or you wouldn't have asked, then yes. I am a Bloody Flank; in fact, my grandfather was the one who killed your War Lord, and in turn was murdered himself by Hira. My father is his eldest son, leader of our Clan, and my brother is Vidar, a necromancer blessed at birth by Kaia herself.
But I am none of them.
I am Cormac, and I am proud to be a Bloody Flank."
567 words || post 5
Notes; oops she made him suuper angry ;-; |
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Post by bellasuem on Dec 30, 2016 15:02:12 GMT -6
Marea
Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
Marea tried to remain passive as Cormac bristled and began his rebuttal, but as he went on she found it impossible to do so. He had a right to be angry about any preconceptions he believed she may hold him to, but she would not stand idly by and be insulted for protecting herself. She pinned her ears back and a fierce expression took hold of her features, "Vain! Shallow!" she repeated, stomping her right foreleg with each word, "No! I am neither; I am cautious!" she corrected, letting out a snort, "I have a better cause to fear some of my own herd mates than I do to fear you. Would you take me to be such an ignorant fool to let you this close to me if I had doubts about your intentions?" she demanded, searching his face for the answer, "It was a simple question, and I loathe having to make guesses about those I'm close to. I have made that mistake before and I will not do it again," she seethed, and at that moment she realized she felt more anger at Rorikk, her old mate, than she thought she could ever muster towards Cormac.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she continued on in a more restricted tone, "It makes no matter to me who your family is. As you've already stated, I had my suspicions," she confirmed. Marea looked at Cormac with an unreadable expression then, unsure of how best it was to continue. Would it be easier to just leave their parting as it was; letting him think she was a mindless sheep who refused to see past stereotypes? It would be simpler, but not easier, at least not for her. She took a step towards him. "I find you perfectly charming, Cormac" she said at last, "More so than any stallion I've met thus far. You've shown me more kindness in our two meetings than I could have imagined possible. I just wanted to hear it from you," she said, "I've heard nothing but terrible things about your clan and to have the perfect juxtaposition present itself to me as a Bloody Flank was a shock, to say the least."
She paused again, not sure if he would understand. It was impossible for her to ignore the question that had been blazing in her mind since she had met him; impossible for her to overcome what had been ingrained into her mind as she grew up without hearing it from him first. He was a Bloody Flank, and he had been kinder to her than the stallion she had planned to marry had been. That was also impossible to ignore. "If your father himself decided to walk out of the tree line and challenge me to a duel for the privilege of continue seeing you, than so be it, let him come," she said, "I have no doubts about you now, and I apologize if I insulted you. It was not my intention."
WC: 503
Notes: Ahhh I wanted to answer this all day at work but I didn't get a chance ;-;
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Post by tallshiips on Dec 31, 2016 11:19:00 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider The riled stallion took a deep breath of the evening air in an attempt to calm his racing heart and clear the turmoil of angry thoughts from his mind. His monologue had been a useful tool to demonstrate his frustration at the social attitudes towards his clan, but it had filled his mind with angry thoughts not for the red mare in front of him but for her herd in general, and their willingness to accept the blatantly untrue stereotypes. If they were really as much of a threat as they were made out to be then why hadn't Hira sent some of her noble warriors to wipe them out? He shook his head, and listened as she spoke.
She hinted at her past, dancing around the edge of the subject with the precise footfalls of a skilled performer, and he sensed that the memories of something he had no knowledge of were resurfacing and affecting the mare. He wanted to reach out and touch her again, soothe her, but knew that he'd burned many bridges with his soliloquy and it would take time to reconstruct them to bear his heavy weight once more. He wondered, for a fleeting moment as their eyes met, hers indecipherable as stone, whether she was going to ask him to leave, and he mused whether that was for the best. After all, nothing good was going to come of any relationship they might share - even friendship was dangerous. What if he met her on the battlefield, how could he injure her when they shared such a bond? And yet he wouldn't be able to leave her unharmed without raising suspicion from his clanmates, nor protect her from their bloodlust and wrath.
But then she lifted one mud-covered hoof, and took a step closer to him, the stallion who'd just professed that he was a Bloody Flank. Was she crazy? He had no doubt that most mares, and stallions alike, would run screaming for the nearest Raider, to put him to death and make up for their mistake on that fateful day. He bowed his head in awestruck respect as she spoke once more, amazed that she was willing to cast aside his allegiance just as he'd asked. Though he'd asked, it had been a bout of wishful thinking, an outlet for his rage, and he'd been willing to accept then that he'd lost her companionship forever. Yet here she was, stepping closer, professing that he was charming, and kind. He tried to hide the schoolboy flush that found its way to his cheeks, and his skin burned under his dark fur. He tried to look away, anywhere but at her, yet found his gaze magnetically drawn to hers, imploring silently that he understood her plea. And then she went further, apologising to him for any offence she'd caused. He bumped her nose gently with his, suggesting that it was his turn to speak now.
"No, you have no reason to apologize to me - in fact, I think that the opposite should be happening." He shuffled his feet awkwardly, feeling the ammonite pendant swinging lazily beside his chest in the cool evening breeze. "I'm so sorry, Marea, more sorry than you could imagine, for bursting out like that. My anger and frustration is not directed at you - far from it, I promise." He chided himself at the use of such childish words, making him feel even more the schoolboy. He laughed a little as he imagined his father bursting out of the treeline and demanding a duel with this mare, but the chuckle was shortlived as he turned his mind to more serious matters.
"I think it is far more likely that your father will turn up out of the blue and demand to know who I am," he motioned to the treeline with a smile, "Demanding why his beautiful daughter was being terrorised by this demon of a stallion." He shook his mane sadly looking away from her for a fleeting second as he was nearly overwhelmed with grief for what could never be.
680 words || post 6
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Post by bellasuem on Jan 1, 2017 14:49:27 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
Marea shook her head, "No, we both overreacted, I think," she admitted, "We both had our reasons, but it's behind us now." A film of sadness clouded her vision as she considered their circumstances. It was unfair that Cormac's clan had been stigmatized so severely, to the point that he believed she would refuse any further contact with him over the particulars of his birth despite all the kindness he had shown her. The regret and shame on Cormac's face was heart breaking. "You didn't scare me," she promised, "Everyone loses their temper. I understand." Marea shuffled her hooves and sighed, "I wasn't thinking clearly myself... I had other thoughts, and other horses, on my mind. I'm not angry with you, either."
At the mention of her progenitor, Marea snorted and steel returned to her gaze. "If my father were to show up, I'd be dueling him before he got the chance to speak even a word to you," she stated flatly. She could care less what had become of her father, and had no vendetta against him herself, but that didn't mean she could forgive him for what his actions caused her mother to go through. Her mother wasn't wholly innocent herself; it takes two horses to have a foal, but as far as Marea was concerned, her mother had atoned. The palomino mare had raised and cared for Marea well enough, but she did so entirely on her own. No help from Marea's father, and no help from her own family. Only her friends had stepped in on her behalf. Oh yes, Marea would enjoy it if her father happened to show up at that very moment. She had some residual anger to expend, and she could think of no better target. Well, perhaps one.
Now that they had gotten the worst of it out of the way, Marea offered the dark stallion a muted smirk. "I've never been one who sits idly by while others decide what I should and should not do. You're a Bloody Flank; so be it," she said with a flick of her tail, as if to permanently cast aside any more qualms on the subject. "I won't claim to cast aside any misgivings I might have about the rest of your clan, nor do I expect you to march into Skeldr with an olive branch," she said, ignoring the clawing feeling in her gut that reminded her of how any of her herd mates might act against Cormac, or his family against her, if they ever encountered one another, "But I have nothing but fondness for you," she finished, touching his muzzle gently with her own. It was then that she fully took notice of the large ammonite hanging from a cord around his neck, an earthy brown spiral that looked to be the larger twin of the one hanging in her mane. She chuckled lightly at the parallel, certainly one that would go unnoticed by any horse except them, since they were the only two who would understand the significance. Marea remembered with a tinge of embarrassment that he had just called her beautiful, a small phrase that had gone unchecked by her mind as it focused on more grim subjects. Oh my, she thought dryly, we really are in trouble.
WC: 555
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Post by tallshiips on Jan 1, 2017 15:53:36 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider Other horses. The words struck a chord with Cormac, and he could not help wondering whether these other horses included those that had visibly scarred her for the rest of her life, or perhaps a husband or lover? These things shouldn't have been drawn to his attention so, should they? He was quickly pulled from this train of thought, though, when she revealed that she held a quarrel with her father. He inwardly winced, regretting bringing it up, but musing that at least he knew, now, to skirt the subject with care in the future.
Her smirk, far from appearing spiteful or sarcastic, lit up her face and placed a mischevious glint in her eyes, and he found it hard to concentrate on what she was saying as he admired the beauty of the expression. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard, and tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue a moment later, but at least he could concentrate on her words properly now. The image of him marching into Skeldr Town holding an olive branch aloft, perhaps with a chaperone of doves and a white cloth for good measure brought a dry smile to his face, and yet it died on his lips as he imagined the reception he'd receive from the angry townspeople. He could not believe that he was stood, engaging in civil conversation and 'bumping noses' (more literally than he'd want to admit) with a member of the society that had shunned him and exiled his clan. The thought, though sad, sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins at the illicit nature of their meeting and emboldened him.
"There's something I agree with - be your own person, not the one society would like you to be. It saddens me to see a great many, especially mares though not exclusively, running around this world blind to all the truths hidden behind stereotypes." He shook his head sadly as he spoke, though he tried to push the glum thoughts from his mind. Her next words did more than that, and sent his mind reeling. Fondness. For him? Had he heard her correctly? His fears were assuaged, though, as he touched her muzzle against his, sending electricity through his veins. But he pulled back, eyes apologetic, as his mind whirled. Did he really want to do this? To cross this line, with a stranger? And not just any stranger, but one of the herd that he'd been taught to avoid at all costs. And yet the forbidden nature of their meeting just made him feel that much more alive. Here he was, cheating stereotypes with this mare, this charming, witty mare, and she knew who he really was. A weight was lifted from his heavily burdened shoulders as he closed the distance that he'd made between them.
Yes, he did want to do this, to cross those lines, and more. His expression changed from uncertainty to a contented smile as he brushed his muzzle against hers, not pulling away but parting his lips ever so slightly. It only existed for a fleeting moment, but he felt it warm his heart and fix a smile to his face.
He definitely wanted to do this.
538 words || post 7
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Post by bellasuem on Jan 2, 2017 10:21:44 GMT -6
Marea Mare / Traveling Merchant / War-Forged
Marea smiled and her eyes twinkled as Cormac closed the distance their argument had created between them. She was relieved her question earlier had not ruined their unorthodox friendship. In fact, as Cormac's muzzle grazed her's for a second time, she realized that the stallion was more relaxed than he ever had been around her before. Encouraged by his newfound ease, Marea sidled up next to the dark stallion, their heads pointed in opposite directions, and began to nibble along his crest in an imitation of what he had done to her earlier that night. "You have a lot more mane than I do," she observed, humor coloring her tone as she flipped a few long strands out of her way, "But it suits you," she added, catching his eye before she continued on down his neck. Now that she was this close to him, she decided that he smelled kind of like the sea. Whether or not that was due to his trip to the coastal market, she could only guess.
No one would believe me if I told them. That I was nose to nose with a Bloody Flank and we were far from fighting.
The thought was positively titillating. There was always an exciting element present when you engaged in something that you knew was impermissible, and this was no exception. A brief thought that there was a possibility of someone seeing them crossed Marea's mind, but it was quickly dismissed considering the remoteness of this stretch of road, and the fact that most merchants would stop to camp at night. Marea hung her head over Cormac's back and looked over at him, her jaw resting just behind his withers. Her countenance featured a wolfish smirk and half-lidded eyes as she regarded him almost lazily, "You don't have a wife I'm about to scorn, right?" she asked mischievously, "I don't know if I'm in good enough shape right now to fight off your angry lovers, past or present," she joked, tilting her head slightly as she waited for his answer. She realized she had forgotten about her injuries and her ruined cart up to this point, and that was fine with her. She pushed the thoughts away again; she'd deal with those tomorrow. Who would've thought that such an unlucky night would turn into this, an even more unlikely scenario? Maybe she was dreaming, she mused, maybe those thieves had knocked her out and this was the result. If that was the case, perhaps she needed to visit a Medic and have her head examined, because she didn't think that she was capable of conjuring up this fantasy in even her wildest of dreams.
WC: 452
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Post by tallshiips on Jan 2, 2017 15:15:55 GMT -6
Cormac
Bloody Flank Raider He sighed subconsciously as she began to groom his crest, realising with a pang of sadness how devoid of physical contact his life was, excepting that were made in the heat of the battle whether with friend or foe. Her soft touch felt heavenly, and he struggled to keep himself grounded as she worked. As such, her humour completely passed him by, and he took her words to be literal.
"Well, 'tis only useful for keeping warmth, so at this time or year it's almost redundant." He shrugged nonchanantly, believing there to be no need to continue to highlight their differences with mention of his icy northern home, before melting once more as she nibbled a sweet spot just above his withers, where neck and back meet. He melted away into bliss, enjoying the quiet and solitude of the night, just him, Marea, and the stars. Her next words surprised him, in that she broke the silence that had stretched between them, not that it was laced with tension like those that had come before, but also in her forwardness. "You don't have a wife I'm about to scorn, right? I don't know if I'm in good enough shape right now to fight off your angry lovers, past or present," Her mischievous nature brought a smile to his face, a blissful smile, and he flicked his tail playfully.
On the inside, though, it was a completely different story. His head was swimming with all kinds of questions, the answers to which he could never quite find, and he could hear the beat of his heart once again. It was clear from her confident statement that she knew exactly what she wanted, yet he felt lost and unsure as a child in a storm. What did she want to do? From her tone of voice, he had an idea, but yet wasn't sure. He cursed inwardly and wished he'd payed more attention to the older boys in the clan when they'd fawned over their girlfriends and conuests, for he was certainly at a disadvantage now for not having studied the subject keenly.
What did he do? When did he do it? How would he know what she wanted? Where? Should they stay here, camp the night, if that's what she wanted? Should he take the lead, cast away his fears and pretend he knew what he was doing, because truly he had not the slightest of ideas? He shook his head as their eyes met again, and he tried not to show his anxiety to her. He'd never done anything like this before, and suddenly wished that he had.
As she continued to groom his back, he reached out, stretching his neck across her back, and began to massage the point of her hip with his teeth. Mischeivously, he nipped her croup, before shooting her a cheeky grin, and tried to quell the jitters in the pit of his stomach. He'd be fine.
492 words || post 8
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