( i feel bad, that i don't feel bad )

[big daddy lizzeh.]

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[bg=#DEB887] No. She wasn't going to go back to that stupid stallion and tell him. Ears tilted back against the Haflinger's head, a wild snort escaping her nostrils as she moved through the trees of Terra Scure. Hooves left deep impressions in the soft dirt, obviously she was angry if she was stomping her feet hard enough into the ground to leave imprints. Golden eyes looked around her surroundings, searching for something, for someone, to take her anger out on. "And why couldn't you tell me this before! You had kept my father a secret until now?! Right as your about to die... nice timing. Perfecting feckin' timing," the young mare ranted, pacing back and forth before a bay mare lying upon the ground, blood dripping from her neck wounds. "How was I supposed to know he was going to come and do this to me?! Hm?! How?! You tell me that, Selvain!" The mare upon the ground choked out the words, coughing soon on a bit of blood. The older Haflinger groaned, closing her eyes, her wounds too extensive for anyone to even repair them. "You deserve to die by yourself, you stupid wench! For keeping this secret from me!" And so Selvain had left the mare to die, let her bleed out for keeping this single secret from her since birth. Ears flicked on top of Selvain's head now, noting how there seemed to be next to no life within Terra Scure, and she sighed. Stopping under a large oak tree, she lowered her head, her sides moving quickly as she breathed. How dare her mother tell her who her father was. And how dare the bastard show his face around her! Shaking her head, Selvain lifted it to survey the scene around her. Nothing moved as golden eyes inspected every aspect of the clearing before her. The scents of the dark place were stale, and Selvain began to wonder if anyone ever ventured here anymore. Eyes looked to her own body, and she tilted her head slightly. How was she related to that devil horse?! She didn't look anything like him, she didn't have any coloration like him, nor did she have paint markings. She looked, in all aspects possible, exactly like her mother had. Not that she hated her looks. Her mother was a fine horse. In fact, Selvain's mother bragged to her daughter how the colts and stallions were all over her. This had caused the young mare to resent her mother. Resent her with a passion. Which was one of the reasons why Selvain just left and let the old wench die by herself. Still there was nothing in Terra Scure to entertain the small mare. Not a damn thing! Where in hell were the horses that usually lurked the shadows here?! ! not as good as i wanted it to be... it's a bunch of rambling, really.

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! 467 words[/size]
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[sibber-chow]

Orpheus’s large hooves left shallow imprints in the dirt without the need for a harsh stomp. Such was the woe of a horse born quite so stocky. It was curious really how much a draft build he had gained from his mother (in fact, well surpassing her stout physique) while none of his other siblings had shown any signs of the bulky frame. It did not displease the stallion though – he quite enjoyed the natural strength that came with such framework.

The painted creature’s journey had begun with anger as he scouted Inferno for remaining survivors. There were none that he could find, although it was hard to say he truly looked too hard. There was a part of him that dreaded the time he would come across one of his deceased mares. Bess and Windy, the names twirled through his mind. He certainly had not been the kindest to them, but he had not been so harsh as he had with the remaining mare’s in his territory. Those two had found a special place in his heart when it was still soft enough to root place into. But, time had sealed up that vessel so tightly that he wasn’t certain that any mare would ever truly capture his fancy again. Now, all that was left was the thirst for domination and whatever void that seemed to fill.

Not too long into his travels, Orpheus decided it would be best that he leave his lands. There was nothing in Inferno to relieve his rage in spite of making more enemies within his own harem. Yamanu was right about one thing, he had to start making good relations with his herd if he wanted them to be loyal. A quiet snort left the stallion as he internally admitted his son to be correct. At one time, Orpheus had loved Yamanu so much, but now, the young prick was getting under his skin in the worst sort of way. He had too much of his kind-hearted mother in him, and that brought back so many horrible memories.

After reaching Terra Scure most of his rage had subsided. His stroll had become casual until he thought he smelled blood on the wind. Someone had died nearby – been attacked it seemed. The large brute kept his ear closed to the wind’s stories and refused to find the body. There was still that fret that it might be Windy or Bess. And, then, another scent wafted across his nostrils – a mare. He quietly increased his pace and when he neared close enough let out a bugle that resounded of his pride but was not too aggressive. He would try and make friends with this mare and not take her back against her will. Yamanu was right and this caused the stallion to groan inaudibly.

[big daddy lizzeh.]

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[bg=#DEB887] Thoughts were still raging about, not on the death of the creature she had called mother, but the fact that her father had never been a figment of her imagination. Ears tilted back a little toward her head, nostrils flaring as she began to pace angrily in a small area, tail slapping her hindquarters. The dark palomino had missed the call of Orpheus, and was almost startled to see a stallion suddenly appear nearby. Hooves stopped her pacing, bringing her slightly smaller frame to a halt far away from whoever this horse was. Dark eyes narrowed at this stranger, and nostrils flared, steam rising in the cooling air. At least there is someone alive in this desolate land. Her voice was curt, venom dripping off her words as she stomped a fore hoof upon the ground. There really was no need to get an attitude with a complete stranger, but Selvain didn't have the patience for anything at the moment. Straightening slightly, her ears kept back against her skull, her short mane flittering about in the sudden gust of wind that seemed to come with the arrival of this horse. Well? Are you just going to stand there and say nothing, or are you going to introduce yourself? Once again, there was the rude attitude that Sevlain was vastly famous for. She had never been taught to watch her tongue around other horses, mostly because her mother was a wanderer, and they never joined a herd where she had to respect older horses, or horses of a certain ranking. Her jaw clenched, this stallion was obviously getting on her nerves. ! thinking about not making her hannibal's daughter...

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! 270 words[/size]
! template/table lizzeh 2010.[/right][/size][/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]