Post by Kvatch on Apr 18, 2012 0:59:24 GMT -5
Comanche, a male horse | Orion, a male horse |
Grassy Plains
================================================================================
These grasslands extend almost as far as the eye can see in every direction save the north; tall, rippling grasses virtually uninterrupted, save for the the occasional stunted tree or rocky formation. At first glance, this place may seem as desolate as any desert, often overcast by the area's frequent surprise thunderstorms. Upon a closer inspection, however, it becomes clear this land is teeming with life, much of it occurring below the line of the tall grasses, which reach heights of a few feet at least. Wild horses, bison, and pronghorn can often be seen moving off in the distance, going about their business, and
smaller animals move amongst the obscuring foliage.
=================================== Exits ===================================
[East] to the Prairie [North] to the Merge
[Northeast] to the Pond [Northwest] to the River
[South] to the Steppe [Southeast] to the Scrubland
[Southwest] to the Foothills [West] to the Lowlands
================================================================================
[IC] Comanche
[IC] Orion
A thick covering of snow can be found across the plains today. The herd has been doing well at kicking up snow to get down to the grass that can still be found. Orion is making his way around the outer edge of the herd checking the area with a few flicks of his ears and lash of his tail while he moves along. Every now an then a faint nicker ears him to show the others that all is well.
Like a dark storm looming on the horizon, the grulla coated stallion has been lingering along the edges of the grassy plains, keeping well to the snow drifted foothills and steppes, with the occasional drop to the knee high snow banks in the lowlands. For the past several days, the proverbial storm has been building like a sudden spring shower and like the distant rumble of thunder, he has pushed in on the boundaries until now, at this hour in the day, lighting strikes. Full of purpose and intent, the mustang comes in strong and brazen, the gallop of of his heavy hooves beating a rhythm against the permafrost as he descends from the highland. It isn't until he has to plow into the deeper banks of snow that layer the grassland that the stallion's pace is brought to a high stepping trot, his head held high and nostrils flaring. Billows of breath rise out into the frozen air and Comanche gives a few snorts, his head swinging wide with a sweeping gaze one direction, then the other, scouting the distant figures of the herd before turning back toward the individual closest to him- the big roan. A by god, he's as tall as a mountain! With no mares nearby to snake away, it is hardly worth expending precious energy on behalf of a lone stallion, so as Comanche nears, his trot slows to a walk and he sets his full attention upon the other, approaching Orion with pricked ears and with only a mild cresting of his neck. You know, just enough to impress upon the other male that he's no underling.
Orion is indeed a large horse, but at the same time he doesn't go throwing his weight around unless it is indeed needed that is. His ears flick forward, head turning to look towards the approach of a new stallion and he hums softly to himself pondering where about this one is from. While Orion is large he is young, four years at most and he shifts on his hooves turning himself so he can look fully upon this stallion. His shoulders roll and he steps forward, head lifted, tilting slightly so he never loses sight of the other, ears flicking forward and back while his tail lashes about his flanks a few times. "Afternoon.." Is offered with a firm, yet friendly sounding tone. A faint sniff is taken from the passing breeze as he seems to be checking to see if there are any others with this stallion..
The grulla pintaloosa takes a moment to access the other stallion, taking no endeavor to hide the matter either, as his regards roam over Orion's towering height. The life of the wild mustang stallion is build upon one's ability to topple and beat back your opponent, but in order to do so successfully, it doesn't hurt to know which fights to pick, either. Not that Comanche is currently looking for a fight this instant, but days of reconnaissance has given him the knowledge that there is a band of mares to be had, which is a guarantee that at some point, he'll have to go head to head with the taller stallion. There is one advantage that Comanche is quick to take note of, a observation that leaves the interloper smirking a touch too smugly. Orion is young. By comparison, Comanche could be the other's sire twice over. At nearly ten years, the pintaloosa has seen many winters, battled many battles, and has smote down stallions who had once been his own older nemesis. Though today, it would seem that the mustang hasn't a mare to show for it. A circumstantial matter through no fault of his own, but still something Comanche wholly intends to correct. Of course, Orion need not know this. At least not out right. And so the newcomer seems to accept the other's good biding and dips his head in response, feigning a quick glance to the late, mid day sky as signaled with a pivoting of a single ear, "So it is, isn't it." As both ears return to pointing in Orion's direction, the pintaloosa takes a few steps closer, before stopping to turn his whole head with a bending of his neck, looking out over the snow covered grasslands, "Though don't know about you, but I could certainly use a bit more warmth from the sun these days."
Orion watches the other stallion, his eyes narrow for a moment and a slight snort escapes him. Yes.. he may be young but this is no stallion to push over mind you. The smug look from Comanche is taken in fully and it sends up more then a few red flags in his mind. His already had problems with Sunrise, and he is getting a sinking feeling he may be in for the same thing with this stallion. While Orion has not been in many battles with other stallions, he has fought off many other things and has the scars to prove it. He shifts to make sure he never loses sight of Comanche, a slight pawing on his hoof perhaps heard once he steps closer. "I'm sure you would relish in the idea of finding warmth with /my/ herd." This said with a simple tone, a slight edge picked up. "I have no room for stallions looking to perhaps cause a problem at a later date." An that should prove he has no trust at all for this stallion.
With his face still turned into the light of the afternoon sun, the retort of the younger stallion bring about the most amused smile from the grulla pintaloosa, blue eyes narrowing at the corners with a mild mirth. "My friend, you presume too much..." comes the gentle voice of the male, his tone almost holding a sympathetic note on behalf of Orion's assumptions. Which are, of course, completely false. A fact that Comanche shortly corrects upon, swinging his powerful haunches as he turns his broad chest toward the red roan, directly facing him, even going so far as to take a few bold steps in toward the stallion, "I say this, because if I am going to be relishing warmth with a herd, that herd will no longer be yours." It is no idle threat, nor does the interloper confess this with even the smallest about of contempt for the other stallion's less than heart-warming welcome. "Of course," he goes on, tone sounding all more merry, "Its nothing personal. Just good business. So who knows, maybe we can be friends for awhile?" Comanche smirks at this, his ears laying out to the side just before making a sudden, nipping lunge toward Orion's jaw, only to turn back sharply and buck up with a playful kick like some horse-playing bachelor. Trotting only a short distance away, Comanche gives his head a stiff shake from side to side, tossing his black mane before he half-pivots back to Orion and stands there, grinning widely, "So. You want to practice chasing me off now, or later?" His dark tail swishes at his flanks as the stallion dances in place, inviting Orion at a rough game of tag. Or maybe just taunting the younger stud. Hard to say.
Orion ears flick forward as he watches the other stallion. "Perhaps I do.. Or perhaps I'm just wary of ones that bring gifts such as friendship during this time of the year." He offers with a mostly friendly sounding tone. A brow lifts at he other speak about relishing warm with a herd, and that it will no long be his own. "Perhaps.. But.. that is not today." A faint chuckle escapes him. "Oh.. of course its nothing personal. I may be young but I do know a few things." His head lifts, ears pinned back a moment as the other lunges towards him and instead of reacting or moving he stays put, save for tilting his head to the side as the other goes into a kicking bounce. A slender smirk crosses his face, muscles across his shoulders twitching as a hoof shifts to stretch a
moment. "So far I'm still pondering the chasing you off part."
Dancing and stamping hooves comes to a standing halt beneath the interloping stallion, even if likely just a momentary thing. Though Comanche's thick tail still gives a few swishing flicks back and forth as the stallion continues to regard his possible, future foe. "Not today, you say?" The pintaloosa makes a show of further thought, tipping his long head sideways in a gesture of consideration, before smugly smirking with a sidelong look at Orion, who's participation to Comanche's initiation for a good sparring lacks satisfaction. "So do I need to schedule your loss of a few mares, or just drop in when I get a chance?" A hearty, self-amused chuckle escapes the stallion, who bows his neck stiffly, chin tucked in close to his chest as he gives a few hard strikes at the ground with his right front leg, sending clouds of powdered snow flying on impact. He doesn't take his eyes off of Orion, though, not quite buying into the male's docile behavior. With a smirk returning to tug at the corners of his mouth, Comanche gives a short toss of of his head, still trying to lure the other stallion into action with his muscle-show behavior. "Oh? You thinkin' on keeping me or something? Add me to your harem? I know I'm pretty and all, but I'm not like that." He grins, quite bemused with himself and the younger stallion.
Orion watches Comanche a few moments longer, a smirk resting across his muzzle once again, as if trying to come up with a good answer, or reaction to the older stallion. "Oh.. that would be a lovely idea. I'm sure you would fit in rather well here with my harem." He offers with an amused tone along with a half pawing at the ground himself. With a lash of his tail he turns towards some nickering from a mare behind him. "If you would excuse me.. I have some matters to deal with." As for his docile behavior don't let if fool you, he can be anything but docile when there is a need for it. "I suggest you stay at the very edge of my herd. We will talk again before long I'm sure and then we're see about that little schedule you are talking about." An with that he is trotting off towards his mares, where he plans on keeping a close eye over at the moment it would seem..
Future foe or not, Comanche finds himself taking a liking to the younger stallion, rather enjoying their verbal jesting. Not that any chanced friendship or otherwise would ever keep the older stallion from having a go at Orion's collection of mares, but it could make for a less violent battle when or if it should come to blows. For now, Comanche seem content to have warned the younger male of his intentions, least he seem surprised when the day comes that the trespassing pintaloosa gallops in to snake some mares away. No hidden agendas or dark secrets here, that for sure. "Of course I would fit in well! As the head stallion!" He barks a short, curt laugh, just before his gaze briefly turns toward the approaching mare. Ears pivot stiffly forward and Comanche's good nature seems to diminish a bit, his demeanor becoming a touch more serious. Without really looking back to Orion, the stallion just smiles a small smile, "Oh I won't be going anywhere, rest assure." Watching both horses now as they trot away, the older mustang stands there in the evening light, the blanket of white across his spotted rump looking like a collection of snow upon the peaks of a mountain. Lifting his head high, he calls out to the departing stallion, "Hey! I'll be free tomorrow!" Grinning wide at the promise of a challenge, Comanche turns to head back toward the foothills, trotting out a ways before breaking into a lope up along the incline.
Grassy Plains
================================================================================
These grasslands extend almost as far as the eye can see in every direction save the north; tall, rippling grasses virtually uninterrupted, save for the the occasional stunted tree or rocky formation. At first glance, this place may seem as desolate as any desert, often overcast by the area's frequent surprise thunderstorms. Upon a closer inspection, however, it becomes clear this land is teeming with life, much of it occurring below the line of the tall grasses, which reach heights of a few feet at least. Wild horses, bison, and pronghorn can often be seen moving off in the distance, going about their business, and
smaller animals move amongst the obscuring foliage.
=================================== Exits ===================================
[East] to the Prairie [North] to the Merge
[Northeast] to the Pond [Northwest] to the River
[South] to the Steppe [Southeast] to the Scrubland
[Southwest] to the Foothills [West] to the Lowlands
================================================================================
[IC] Comanche
[IC] Orion
A thick covering of snow can be found across the plains today. The herd has been doing well at kicking up snow to get down to the grass that can still be found. Orion is making his way around the outer edge of the herd checking the area with a few flicks of his ears and lash of his tail while he moves along. Every now an then a faint nicker ears him to show the others that all is well.
Like a dark storm looming on the horizon, the grulla coated stallion has been lingering along the edges of the grassy plains, keeping well to the snow drifted foothills and steppes, with the occasional drop to the knee high snow banks in the lowlands. For the past several days, the proverbial storm has been building like a sudden spring shower and like the distant rumble of thunder, he has pushed in on the boundaries until now, at this hour in the day, lighting strikes. Full of purpose and intent, the mustang comes in strong and brazen, the gallop of of his heavy hooves beating a rhythm against the permafrost as he descends from the highland. It isn't until he has to plow into the deeper banks of snow that layer the grassland that the stallion's pace is brought to a high stepping trot, his head held high and nostrils flaring. Billows of breath rise out into the frozen air and Comanche gives a few snorts, his head swinging wide with a sweeping gaze one direction, then the other, scouting the distant figures of the herd before turning back toward the individual closest to him- the big roan. A by god, he's as tall as a mountain! With no mares nearby to snake away, it is hardly worth expending precious energy on behalf of a lone stallion, so as Comanche nears, his trot slows to a walk and he sets his full attention upon the other, approaching Orion with pricked ears and with only a mild cresting of his neck. You know, just enough to impress upon the other male that he's no underling.
Orion is indeed a large horse, but at the same time he doesn't go throwing his weight around unless it is indeed needed that is. His ears flick forward, head turning to look towards the approach of a new stallion and he hums softly to himself pondering where about this one is from. While Orion is large he is young, four years at most and he shifts on his hooves turning himself so he can look fully upon this stallion. His shoulders roll and he steps forward, head lifted, tilting slightly so he never loses sight of the other, ears flicking forward and back while his tail lashes about his flanks a few times. "Afternoon.." Is offered with a firm, yet friendly sounding tone. A faint sniff is taken from the passing breeze as he seems to be checking to see if there are any others with this stallion..
The grulla pintaloosa takes a moment to access the other stallion, taking no endeavor to hide the matter either, as his regards roam over Orion's towering height. The life of the wild mustang stallion is build upon one's ability to topple and beat back your opponent, but in order to do so successfully, it doesn't hurt to know which fights to pick, either. Not that Comanche is currently looking for a fight this instant, but days of reconnaissance has given him the knowledge that there is a band of mares to be had, which is a guarantee that at some point, he'll have to go head to head with the taller stallion. There is one advantage that Comanche is quick to take note of, a observation that leaves the interloper smirking a touch too smugly. Orion is young. By comparison, Comanche could be the other's sire twice over. At nearly ten years, the pintaloosa has seen many winters, battled many battles, and has smote down stallions who had once been his own older nemesis. Though today, it would seem that the mustang hasn't a mare to show for it. A circumstantial matter through no fault of his own, but still something Comanche wholly intends to correct. Of course, Orion need not know this. At least not out right. And so the newcomer seems to accept the other's good biding and dips his head in response, feigning a quick glance to the late, mid day sky as signaled with a pivoting of a single ear, "So it is, isn't it." As both ears return to pointing in Orion's direction, the pintaloosa takes a few steps closer, before stopping to turn his whole head with a bending of his neck, looking out over the snow covered grasslands, "Though don't know about you, but I could certainly use a bit more warmth from the sun these days."
Orion watches the other stallion, his eyes narrow for a moment and a slight snort escapes him. Yes.. he may be young but this is no stallion to push over mind you. The smug look from Comanche is taken in fully and it sends up more then a few red flags in his mind. His already had problems with Sunrise, and he is getting a sinking feeling he may be in for the same thing with this stallion. While Orion has not been in many battles with other stallions, he has fought off many other things and has the scars to prove it. He shifts to make sure he never loses sight of Comanche, a slight pawing on his hoof perhaps heard once he steps closer. "I'm sure you would relish in the idea of finding warmth with /my/ herd." This said with a simple tone, a slight edge picked up. "I have no room for stallions looking to perhaps cause a problem at a later date." An that should prove he has no trust at all for this stallion.
With his face still turned into the light of the afternoon sun, the retort of the younger stallion bring about the most amused smile from the grulla pintaloosa, blue eyes narrowing at the corners with a mild mirth. "My friend, you presume too much..." comes the gentle voice of the male, his tone almost holding a sympathetic note on behalf of Orion's assumptions. Which are, of course, completely false. A fact that Comanche shortly corrects upon, swinging his powerful haunches as he turns his broad chest toward the red roan, directly facing him, even going so far as to take a few bold steps in toward the stallion, "I say this, because if I am going to be relishing warmth with a herd, that herd will no longer be yours." It is no idle threat, nor does the interloper confess this with even the smallest about of contempt for the other stallion's less than heart-warming welcome. "Of course," he goes on, tone sounding all more merry, "Its nothing personal. Just good business. So who knows, maybe we can be friends for awhile?" Comanche smirks at this, his ears laying out to the side just before making a sudden, nipping lunge toward Orion's jaw, only to turn back sharply and buck up with a playful kick like some horse-playing bachelor. Trotting only a short distance away, Comanche gives his head a stiff shake from side to side, tossing his black mane before he half-pivots back to Orion and stands there, grinning widely, "So. You want to practice chasing me off now, or later?" His dark tail swishes at his flanks as the stallion dances in place, inviting Orion at a rough game of tag. Or maybe just taunting the younger stud. Hard to say.
Orion ears flick forward as he watches the other stallion. "Perhaps I do.. Or perhaps I'm just wary of ones that bring gifts such as friendship during this time of the year." He offers with a mostly friendly sounding tone. A brow lifts at he other speak about relishing warm with a herd, and that it will no long be his own. "Perhaps.. But.. that is not today." A faint chuckle escapes him. "Oh.. of course its nothing personal. I may be young but I do know a few things." His head lifts, ears pinned back a moment as the other lunges towards him and instead of reacting or moving he stays put, save for tilting his head to the side as the other goes into a kicking bounce. A slender smirk crosses his face, muscles across his shoulders twitching as a hoof shifts to stretch a
moment. "So far I'm still pondering the chasing you off part."
Dancing and stamping hooves comes to a standing halt beneath the interloping stallion, even if likely just a momentary thing. Though Comanche's thick tail still gives a few swishing flicks back and forth as the stallion continues to regard his possible, future foe. "Not today, you say?" The pintaloosa makes a show of further thought, tipping his long head sideways in a gesture of consideration, before smugly smirking with a sidelong look at Orion, who's participation to Comanche's initiation for a good sparring lacks satisfaction. "So do I need to schedule your loss of a few mares, or just drop in when I get a chance?" A hearty, self-amused chuckle escapes the stallion, who bows his neck stiffly, chin tucked in close to his chest as he gives a few hard strikes at the ground with his right front leg, sending clouds of powdered snow flying on impact. He doesn't take his eyes off of Orion, though, not quite buying into the male's docile behavior. With a smirk returning to tug at the corners of his mouth, Comanche gives a short toss of of his head, still trying to lure the other stallion into action with his muscle-show behavior. "Oh? You thinkin' on keeping me or something? Add me to your harem? I know I'm pretty and all, but I'm not like that." He grins, quite bemused with himself and the younger stallion.
Orion watches Comanche a few moments longer, a smirk resting across his muzzle once again, as if trying to come up with a good answer, or reaction to the older stallion. "Oh.. that would be a lovely idea. I'm sure you would fit in rather well here with my harem." He offers with an amused tone along with a half pawing at the ground himself. With a lash of his tail he turns towards some nickering from a mare behind him. "If you would excuse me.. I have some matters to deal with." As for his docile behavior don't let if fool you, he can be anything but docile when there is a need for it. "I suggest you stay at the very edge of my herd. We will talk again before long I'm sure and then we're see about that little schedule you are talking about." An with that he is trotting off towards his mares, where he plans on keeping a close eye over at the moment it would seem..
Future foe or not, Comanche finds himself taking a liking to the younger stallion, rather enjoying their verbal jesting. Not that any chanced friendship or otherwise would ever keep the older stallion from having a go at Orion's collection of mares, but it could make for a less violent battle when or if it should come to blows. For now, Comanche seem content to have warned the younger male of his intentions, least he seem surprised when the day comes that the trespassing pintaloosa gallops in to snake some mares away. No hidden agendas or dark secrets here, that for sure. "Of course I would fit in well! As the head stallion!" He barks a short, curt laugh, just before his gaze briefly turns toward the approaching mare. Ears pivot stiffly forward and Comanche's good nature seems to diminish a bit, his demeanor becoming a touch more serious. Without really looking back to Orion, the stallion just smiles a small smile, "Oh I won't be going anywhere, rest assure." Watching both horses now as they trot away, the older mustang stands there in the evening light, the blanket of white across his spotted rump looking like a collection of snow upon the peaks of a mountain. Lifting his head high, he calls out to the departing stallion, "Hey! I'll be free tomorrow!" Grinning wide at the promise of a challenge, Comanche turns to head back toward the foothills, trotting out a ways before breaking into a lope up along the incline.