|| I think I'm going to burn in hell....

[Storeh]

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[bg=gray] The motivational vacation of haunting temptations of heretical thoughts reigned to constrict with binding contemplation the harnessed sharded mind. Though spring had barley taken idle timing to stake permanent occupation upon the landings of the Isola Dei Dei, the settlings of shifted mind-set absorbed with ample succession building fashionings of past. The weathered allowances of free thought had been stretched with the less burdening times that ruled the thorn of springtime. Withering form of stallion passed with haunting tendencies through the gently budding forest, evaluating the edge that the darkness of the place left, even upon its rebirthing from the winter's harsh rule. Velveteen muzzle cradled the ashen bark, mind scaling the hush of silences with a level of controlled calm atmosphere. Each lingering glance of emerald caught the bottomless orbs as if in rapture as they sought to bring cherished enlightenment to the shade of unwelcoming place. The sharp features of his malnourished form seemed to almost soften as he inspected his surroundings. Undertread, the remains of icy encampment had melted into the thawing heartbeat of ground, allowing for the mud to cling to his features as Stranger passed. The beats of wings fluttered from above, and the passing stallion watched them for another moment as if in interest, not finding the source but instead allowing the depth of gaze to take in the rays of light shining from the intrecate canopy above. Shade was something of regularity in this place, for no other time of the year would the stag dared to have entered for the bombardment of instantaneous dread that would capture conscious. Spring was a rare time, indeed, that relaxed the world as everything captured new life, past easing for the months. It was truly rare as well as an almost holy time for himself. Moving on silently, the minimal muscle toning ached with each step, bones almost grinding as the pain was ignored. Shallow breaths gave enough for his steps to remain. There was an almost eerie stride that shadowed each conscious actions that Shiminege took, for the quality at which the mind worked processed each new sight with tempting characteristics. Should he bugle with the hopes of company? The better question was he himself able of such a trumpet? Hardly. The sound itself would kill him with the effort. There were many a thing that this forest bore host to that would eagerly spirit him away. That was not the bother, of course. He would have to make due, not a doubt. Another shaking exhale brought time into the surroundings as if upon a whim. What would the next moment bare forth for his desireless contemplation? One in itself would never be the thought to know.

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Muse: Impossible.
OOC: ...
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[Vel]

Crowley

The dark stallion moved silently through the equally dark shadows in the land. He had taken to wandering again. Crowley would pop in on his herd and take leave again, barely ever seeing them. He was too much of a free spirit to be bound in a herd for the remainder of his days, which could be centuries. Wandering was the only fun thing to do on this island. Sometimes he would happen across a place he had not found before, which was even surprising to him that he had left a spot of this isle untouched by his hooves. Sadly, he was on very familiar ground today.

Finding other horses had become a game to Crowley, something to add to his wandering. He really did love meeting new equines. Most of them, sadly, were rather dull and only offered him something he had heard countless times before. There were few horses he met who he actually remembered, therefore it was treat to meet an intelligent being. Perhaps today would be his lucky day, though he doubted it. He usually knew the smart ones before he even talked to them. He could tell by their appearance, how they carried themselves. It was an ability he had acquired over the years, and had proved to be very useful.

As Crowley glanced around the woods detecting nothing but dark trees and new grass. Thankfully it was spring. He was glad to be rid of that horrid winter. It had been much too cold for his liking. Not to mention the food supply had been very low, making it hard for everyone. He had an advantage since he was an omnivore, but because of the lack of food it was hard to find any animals that he favoured.

Crowley let out an annoyed huff after several more minutes. Perhaps he should go wander into another land. He thought that with spring being here, more horses would frequent this land. Apparently not. Just as Crowley was about to turn around and go elsewhere, he heard slight movement. His eyes slowly scanned the scenery until they landed on a rather emaciated ebony stallion.

A small smile spread across Crowley's face. Finally, someone was here. Not to mention he looked rather interesting. The stag strode up to the black and offered him a friendly smile. "Hello. Lovely day, is it not?"

[Storeh]

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[bg=gray] The shivering convulsion of shattering fits exploded small succession of fireworks as the realization of company waved over the folds of distorted mind, as if the thoughts dissolved into blackened voids. Labored, yet with the hasty reactions of lacking muscle tissues, the unsightly disproportioned cranium lifting as the bottomless sockets of orbs met the razored smirk of the opposite. Through clouded hollows of sparkless oculars, it was a distorted blurring of views. Shiver, an icy pattern that fragmented across the tender fleshing of spinal column, marked the underlying coat as the stare was met with yellow slitted orbs. Feline. Dangerous? The tones that offered themselves to the gaunt stag where chipper in nature, calmly collected for conversing. Yet, the presence of this other made profuse amounts of unsightly pictures rush to the surface. Death. This aura reeked of it, was consumed by it. Something far worse in his past than he let upon. Memories, so many to flood the confines of the stallion's pinned mind as blood wished to thaw in veins. Unlikely. Unsightly. Reaper. The straight-line gaze did not waver a fraction from the other as the starved information divided his mind into even sections. Manners be saved. Another waking shiver racked harshly through his skin just as the vocals where introduced. Breathe. 'My greetings...yes...I dare say...wonderous.' The audios where soft, almost taking on the inaudibility of soundlessness, but they had, indeed, been offered aloud. Decipher and tell me what you see. Stranger. Bones, the straining joints cracking inelegantly, straightened to right themselves, though the mixed withered brute was nothing in comparison. The ribs respired, endeavor rewarded them with the rawness of breath, tasting of pungent ash as wonderings flooded. Ages, the mere senses of countless days, something of drawing the pinpointed a narrowed scope to this one equine. Blurring of vision as emotion flooded to repossess his natures when the gaze wavered slightly, dropping to the ground as a raw grasp captured his being. Shiminege coughed violently, but gathered himself to raise bottomless orbs once more. Even though fear was not a tasteless quality, he offered a slim smile, all his features could hold, to the other as a form of wishful apology. Manners. You are not lacking. The neck bobbed head, as an apple upon the string, for a little bow to the other in respect. Brochan knew that this Reaper was of many years, though the facade of youth was around him. Immortality. Something that the striving stallion had given so much thought to...so much that it pained.

[/color]

Muse: Impossible.
OOC: ...
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[Vel]

Crowley

The stallion's eyes remained trained on the stranger in front of him as he spoke. His voice was so soft compared to other stallions that Crowley had met. This horse was certainly odd. He was far from normal, or what was considered normal. Was there actually a normal? Crowley has asked himself that question over and over again. So many horses had their own little oddities, while some greater than others, and every one of them was considered odd. Even the most 'normal' horses had their little quirks that separated them from the rest. Perhaps there was no such thing as normal. Other equines only saw normality in horses that were as equally, or even less, strange than themselves. For something to be 'weird' it had to have quirks to a higher degree than the 'normal'. It was an on going thought in Crowley's mind.

The soft smile returned to Crowley's face as he direction his attention to the ebony form in front of him. "Spring is such a wonderful time of the year. Everything is new, a time to start fresh, to turn over a new leaf." he noted, looking up to a few birds chasing one another in the sky above. Crowley had gone through meeting these new horses countless times. He liked to offer different greetings and insights to each, just to make things a bit different and see what reactions he caused. "Perhaps it is even to mirror our own lives, changing something in them, forgetting some tragic event, banishing our demons, so many things that spring could metaphorically represent."

It would be interesting to see what this horse had to offer. From a quick glance he just seemed like a dirty vagabond, someone who remained below everyone else. Crowley saw something different. He knew full well appearances could be deceiving. He had been a witness to many things that weren't as they initially seemed to be. When he looked into the eyes, into the true being, of this stallion he saw something else. He could not quite place it, but it was there. Now it was his mission to discover it.

[Storeh]

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[bg=gray] Words at no time yielded to the perception of uselessness, as some more than others sought such things out to be, declarations of pointlessness, though in the honesty of manner misconceived arch of words bore more than outside the own bare meaning. A short reign of melancholy commiseration called out to the broken statuette of stag, the coveyance given beckoning an artless smile from the coaxing refined features of Stranger's own face. There was a boiling need, of experienced uncertainty, to give the lengthy answer that tempted from within. The arcane need to laugh at the foolishness that build his conscious outweighed momentarily the unease mounting, allowing the choking sound to seek liberation from the trapped confines of sandy throat. The mistrusting brute had not allowed himself the please, nay felt the need for such an expression, in far too many spanning days without number to offer as counting. 'Have clemency for this. I, in myself...have no knowledge of auxiliary starts, nor the discarding of one's vengeful demons. The luxury that comes with that of forgetting is of nature that one such as myself can only long for.' The speech given was broken without methodical timing by the dread-stricken wheezing, as well as heartful coughing that always seemed to ride the words articulated. Even as the audios where terminated from the chambers of agitated thought, snaps of photo-quality complexion dwindle between slow blinks, savoring the trepidation that always announced in the forthcoming. The opposite might not be the one to bask in the glory of elden circumstance, but it may be something of knowledge for Shiminege to pray out of. Stunted memories reminded of chance conversations falling just when the stallion opened maw, for his very nature was deterrent enough for almost all of the isle inhabitatants. So such a thing had always seemed to stand. It was of little matter, for the cleansing orbs fitfully swam in the feline surface of the other's mirroring natures, basking in the fire he himself sought there. Was there more to offer now that the mind mutterings had forgotten to linger. Flashing was no more for the present in the little strive spring pang to heart. Mostly of the offspring that never dained to live longer, souls too frail for the journey onward. Pray for those who had fallen through the plaguing winter months, but now those where few spacious moments. Snapping sores crafted where of lives lost, tortured by pale hands as death beckoned each second through without another glance. Millions. They were leaving this world behind as Brochan listened after to the last whisp of breath upon wind. Sing.

[/color]

Muse: Impossible.
OOC: ...
Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

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[Vel]

Crowley

The stallion tilted his crown down, trying to hold back a small smile. Something about this stallion, just his mannerisms and the way in which he spoke. Crowley quickly regained his not-too-lost composure as violent coughs wracked the stranger's fragile looking body. "You alright?" Crowley asked, genuinely concerned for his well-being. Wouldn't it be something if Death took over this stallion's soul? Sadly, Crowley did sense the cold aura of death surrounding this stag.

He had been around many beings that Death favoured. Sometimes Death would remain looming over someone for years, knowing that at any moment they could meet their doom. Then there were other beings that Death seemed to stay away from, almost avoid. This stallion in front of him seemed to be near the lower end of the spectrum. Death was looming over him ready to strike, but was kept at bay by something. This horse would die sometime in the near future. Sad.

"Pardon myself, I must seem so rude, not introducing myself." he said in an unusually chipper voice to lighten the mood. "I am Crowley, and I don't give off any fancy titles, so Crowley it is." he introduced, not really caring if the stallion offered his own name in return. All he cared about was that this stranger was a friendly face who seemed intelligent enough to hold an interesting conversation.

[Storeh]

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[bg=gray] The sheer demonstration of mannered politeness from the contrary appearances of this charismatic stag left the other, in the utter senses at least, shell-shocked beyond a wondrous mask of composure. For it was more than a trifle difficult to present emotions that slipped so easily from features as this, as an introduction to reset offering of compassion was made. The name was something of a testament, ringing bells in the collected archives of the past to farther prove that this was one whom had traveled much as well as seen many a thing, only to be then trapped to this place. Freedom was an objective so easily robbed from others, and the emaciated stallion knew this. If the words would pass he lips, though he knew they never would be able, he would tell this Crowley that he, in himself, was not in an aura of okay. It was an honest, as well as blunt, perception that the brute had never been the word's definition. However, that was judged by the stretching of imagination. 'Conversation upon informal grounds may indeed be pleasantly initiated without the need for introduction, but I thank you nonetheless, sir. ' With an unusually animated bob of the head, though rather stiff, a chance grin was given with amenable quality. 'The Stranger of Our Holocaust, though please shed the formality for both our sakes. Stranger, if you will.' It had been preciously savored moments, stretching from his last encounter of suited kind to this one he was holding in court now. Very rarely did the progression allow for the name given to himself for the passing upon lips, though it would never be allowed again for the true nature, the one given upon birth, to leave the chords and pronounce itself. It was no law that a particular calling be uttered, nor from the past to be announced upon the future. Though broken in their quite sporadic bearing, fragmented strips of the past that was his own flashed with momentary beating behind the lids. Pushing this away with a dismissal that never served more than a wondering to his own justices, the present tenses of company was a wish for the stallion to propose topical speakings, though the weathered frame of himself knew that he was not of many a word, nor an offering. This Reaper, for pray that was the breeding, was an encyclopedia of conversing, and Shiminege did not need to look far past the surface to know that bit. With the years of idle chat, however, there was a longing that knew that idle sentences, though satisfying in nature, where not what either of their mind's hungered so desperately for. Understand was an objective hard to happen upon, and this one had never found such an arcane thing. Savoring would be sought it shall occur. Muse: Impossible. OOC: ... Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}

[Vel]

Crowley

Crowley tilted his head a bit at this stallion's words. He had always been asked to introduce himself to other horses. It was like they could not feel some what at ease until he vocalized his calling. This horse in front of him seemed to be fine either way. Very interesting. Crowley knew that he had picked a good horse to talk to. It would serve as some entertainment for a while. It had been quite some time since he had found a regular horse like this to talk to who did not run away at the mere sight of him. It was nice to know there were still some decent horses in this world. Either that, or this stallion was dumber than he seemed and did not realise what Crowley really was. He highly doubted that, this stag did not seem like the oblivious type.

"Thats a very interesting name." Crowley commented. He never understood why some horses had outrageously long names, but still shortened them down to a single word. Why not just name the damn foal a single word and get over with it? Crowley would never fully understand the workings of the equine mind, especially with strange little things like that. If he had to name something, especially a foal, he would name it a normal name that was quick to say. Perhaps it was just the Crowley was different from the other horses and was the only one who would name something a single name. For all he knew the other horses he had met during his time on Isola Dei Dei had very long names they shortened. This was now a stupid inner thought that would come and go to keep him occupied. Wonderful.

It was almost ironic how Crowley referred to this stallion as a stranger in his mind, when the horse's actual name was Stranger. The name seemed to fit the emaciated stallion perfectly. There was just something about him that made him foreign to most; a stranger. He looked different than most horses here; not because he was skinny, but because of the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, even the glint in his eye, it was all very unique. Also, strange to this existence. As Crowley noted before, Death was lingering by this horse's side, ready to make a grab in the near future. It was almost as if the presence of Death gave an odd look to the stallion. Interesting.

"So tell me Stranger, where do you come from?" he inquired. Crowley was always curious as to where other horses were from, especially regular horses like Stranger since they could have come from anywhere in the world. This horse had to come from somewhere interesting? Right? He would hate to hear the words 'Belle Valle' or something similar come out of his mouth. A horse this intriguing could not have been born, or live, somewhere so ... bland.

[Storeh]

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[bg=gray] The decency of politely drawn inconspicious remarking lackadaisically hindering the mind in the form of well-placed questions never ceased to be vantage point for one such as that of the stallion. Inquiries of such simplicity in very nature where in the way that made pictures crack to splint into separate objectives. A past, his in no exception, was made of a thousand or more shattering memories untouched by whimsical fashions, unclouded for the one that they held mastership to. Yet, there was a plea of guilt hanging just on the edgings of his maw that was not placed there for the facade of avoiding answering, but in honesty never easily warranted, nor taken by others. Truth, as without equal brought forth. Wanted before all others as true intentions shying difficulty harbored blinded eyes. What was the purpose of regurgitating practiced, rehearsed, lies as if a part of human play? 'Shed commiseration for myself, the past that I have called my own is muddled with that which does not belong to me. For the sake of resurrecting the path of conversing, in spite of this harboring, I hail from a place filled with the blinded and the presence of cruelty as well as rain. As for thee?' It was more than metaphorical pronunciation that weathered brute gave winded explanation, bare in structural sounding, the last bit recollection of natural takings. Essentially, for knowledge of forsake at the discretion of the one in possession of its holding, the beings of this world where fitted with the blindfold to truth upon the day of their birthing, and very few rid themselves of it at the demise that followed suite. Turning oculars, deeply thoughtful in reserve, to the one standing before him, the Reaper unlikely partaking in conversing, it appeared to Stranger as though Crowley may have shed his own. Time, giving grace, would let the emaciated stag know, if the pressure did not collapse him first. Quaking, the warmth of sunlight dare not shed light upon his pelting as cold racked talons. Imagined portraits of sharded depiction played bitterly with each blink. Rain, the clouds hunched with weight, showered the landscape where two silhouettes loomed. Three. Two big, one smaller in stature. The earth greedily swallowed the waters cast down by the heavens, leaving puddles where it was outcast by ground. Ripples, spreading ripples, the bitter scent of tears. Death? Closer, the picture focused, tunneling. Foal, brokenhearted, spindled in legs as tears mixed with the features of face, blurring. A dull creature, bland, without a marking stray upon his pelt. Looking, focusing on...another? A body upon the ground, cold and unstirring, a smile? It looked pain, forced, the peaceful mask facade. Lies. Such vivid markings graced her pelt, interlacing swirls of golden hue, the base of her body an astonishing untouched white. Breathless. Horns? Gold rams horns? Mane and tail long, silver laced angel covered in blood and mud. Shadow! Child, watch your back! Death. The pale horse loomed. Stranger was snapped back. Muse: Impossible. OOC: ... Music: My Chemical Romance {Anything and Everything}