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Werebeast
Authored by Rook.
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Post by Jema Slade on Oct 9, 2017 9:19:48 GMT
Enzo was staying near the ranch that had been burned to mere embers. The smoke still burned her nose even if it were days, maybe weeks old. She couldn't handle that smell. Not so strongly. It had jerked her back into her memories with the wrath of a forgotten lover. A past she didn't want to think about, one that she spent so much time forcing down that it was hard to move on.But she was free now. The cursed nail free of her hoof she could now shift into her human form if she desired to. But it was...uncomfortable. She had spent so much of her life as an equine that just being human felt risky. Like a skin that just didn't quite fit. And so vulnerable was she with only that thin creamy skin between her and disaster.
The flea bitten gray had taken off away from the smoke, and ran. And ran some more. Just letting her hooves devour the terrain that changed and morphed beneath her like a living being. Days passed with only short resting periods. A chance to suck down some cool water and grab a few mouthfuls of grass. Freedom was something she hadn't had as a horse. She had been a dwarven mount when the races were at war, sold to the highest bidder after that and had trickled down from owner to owner with barely a recollection of half of them. Her pale legs bore many scars from her enslavement, readily evident in equine form although not nearly as much as when she was human. Other scars were here and there but her legs carried the heaviest burden.
Being free was both invigorating and terrifying. It was like getting a glimpse at the sun and then waiting for the sky to fall down on her. But just this...running. It was a therapy all its own. Her slender limbs tore at the ground beneath her that eventually turned into a sandy desert. The sun felt hotter here and by mid-day Jema was forced to slow her speed to a slow trot. Sweat rolled down the refined arch of her neck and down the barrel of her sides. Her long ivory tail flicked at the occasional fly that would find her and try to take advantage of a quick bite.
But...she was starting to grow concerned. She was thirsty now and with no oasis in sight, she might need to turn back around to find water. A problem since she had been running with no general direction. Her slate colored nares opened wide with a huff and her dark umber eyes rolled over the desert in front of her. A maze of hills and valleys. Rocks and dead trees. She had made a mistake. A soft discontented snort was ripped from her chest as her panic mounted. She turned around quickly to see her hoof prints that had already been wiped away by the battering wind.
Bad. This was bad.
A shrill whinny broke the silence of the desert. Barely rising above the gentle hum of the gusts of wind. She spun around again with her heart beating faster. She hadn't survived this long to just die in a desert....
((Open to anyone))
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Bard
Single.
New Denzien
Authored by Rien.
Offline.
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Post by Andreii Sandsong on Oct 9, 2017 13:40:47 GMT
[Oh come on, how could I resist?]
Andreii knew they were close to the edge of his desert home. The landscape had changed just so, and the feeling in the air was different. It was somewhat rockier here though he found it no less beautiful as he nudged Sokol to turn aside from a ravine, following along to try and find the place where it became shallower and easier for the horses to traverse. He was in no rush. Time, at least, was something a werebeast had in abundance and he was a youth, hardly into adulthood by some standards. The wind was particularly hard today- it made his skin itch and brought a certain eager restlessness into his body that communicated to the sensitive animals he traveled with. The blood bay stallion with him was alert and danced on the sun-baked sand despite the heat of the day. With them, a cream colored mare kept track of her yearling colt, neither tethered. Here in the familiar desert, Andreii did not fear their loss. He and Sokol could find them if they wandered too far but likely, she would find her way back first. The same restlessness that infected the young man seemed to have translated to the mare and her colt as they danced and frolicked.
The wind was no enemy, though it could make the desert a harsher place. The wind brought change- it brought life when it drove in the rain and it scoured the desert clean. And Andreii could not find it in his heart not to greet the wind. So he had stopped early, rolled the riding blanket up and stowed it in the packs on Sokol's back along with his clothes. And he had changed. The wind-driven sand had stripped him of human skin, leaving the golden stallion standing in his place, mane-less and sleek, a bit of wind captured in a pelt of metal and coal.
A whinny broke through the churning air, borne by the wind. The yearling colt took not a moment to try and discern the meaning of the sound but instead charged forward, dodging his mother's supervision in favor of headlong flight. With the wind at their backs, the rest of the herd followed, fleet and light-footed as the air itself. At the crest of the dune they caught the white-faced runaway, Andreii dodging in front to head him off and turning him back to his mother. It was perhaps an unusual herd conformation- two elder stallions, a single mare and her colt. Add to that the packs on both the mare and red stallion, they would have been an unusual sight to any but the other desert folk who understood the meaning and the symbols on the woven collars they all bore around their necks.
Below, Andreii noted the grey mare, hide darkened with sweat. He anxiety was palpable, even from a distance. He paused to watch her, curious. She was clearly not of their kind, smaller with a refined, delicate head. Sokol pawed the sand and, neck-arched, started to descend towards the pretty thing. Andreii snorted and cut him off with a quick step. They had fought before- never seriously- but it was never a forgone conclusion that Sokol would listen when Andreii wore his soul-shape and was only another member of the herd. But this time he gave way after a moment, turning aside to touch his nose to the cream mare's shoulder.
The golden stallion who was not a simple horse whickered softly to the grey mare, curious. He took a few strides down the hill, ears perked and neck arched, then paused. His hooves cut into the soft sand to give him traction. He gauged her reaction, then finished his descent. The fickle wind kept drifting the smell of her away from him, so the wide flaring of his nostrils told him little. He thought there was something both foreign and familiar about it, but he couldn't pin down what. So he tossed his head and minced another few steps forward.
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N/A
Unknown.
Single.
Werebeast
Authored by Rook.
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Post by Jema Slade on Oct 9, 2017 17:07:06 GMT
She barely heard the first sound the stallion made over the rush of her blood as her heart hammered away. A single ivory ear happened to snag just a hint of the sound and twisted toward it. Her refined skull doing the same. Her dark eyes landed on the stallion who was descending one of the mountains of sand. His dark legs digging into the sand as he moved down, seemingly with the intent of coming to her. A bit of movement above drew her eyes up to see three more equines waiting there, one seemed leggy, young. A herd surviving out here? But now wasn't the time to be so curious as the stallion that had called to her at first was now on even ground with her. His hooves moving over the sandy earth and drawing him nearer.
Jema responded with a snort and took a step back. Knowing full well that there was no where she could run here and that running would likely only push her into a grave that much faster. She hadn't encountered wild horses during her enslavement. Just other equines that were used and abused like herself. Her ears pinned back against her skull in a clear message that she didn't relish the coming interaction. Her tail was high, ivory locks falling back to tumble down her speckled rump. Her dished face rising as she tested the air-and received very little beyond the tickle of specks of sand that forced a sudden loud sneeze to come forth. She shook her head then but didn't turn away from the encroaching stallion.
She was well aware that turning her back on anyone was a dangerous game. Her dark eyes flicked to the equines up on the bank, relieved that at least they hadn't followed. He seemed so...intent. And the way he had paused in his descent as if he were testing the waters. If felt like there might be more to him than just the dark golden coat he wore. She took a shot in the dark then, if he weren't a were then her words would go unheard anyway. She took another step back and tossed her head as the tension built in her body. Long ivory locks falling across her face that she didn't toss away but peered at him from behind, much like a child hiding behind a curtain. "What do you want?" Even telepathically her words had a tremble, a shake. But it was possible the stallion wouldn't even hear and that he was just a horse, nothing more.
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Bard
Single.
New Denzien
Authored by Rien.
Offline.
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Post by Andreii Sandsong on Oct 9, 2017 17:30:02 GMT
Andreii hesitated when she stepped back, ears pinned and tail high. Though he had established dominance with his own horses, it was something he had been taught- the natural instinct for dominance simply was absent from the young man. So he stopped approaching, more concerned that he might cause the already tired mare to bolt and harm herself. Instead he dropped his head a little, turning his shoulder to her as he sidled half a step away, inviting her to see him as less of a threat. The ribbon around his neck shown scarlet against the bright gold of his hide, only slightly dimmed by the desert dust.
Her words however brought his head back up, surprised. Oh, forgive me. He took a few steps back, suddenly a little awkward. Exposed. His head turned to look up at the group of equines waiting restlessly above for him, feeling vulnerable without them now that he knew this was no wild mare. His shifted uncertainly. I meant no harm, soul-sister. I thought at first your were a wild mare, lost.
The tremble in her voice made him want to comfort her, to offer the closeness of herd and company but her body seemed to scream that she wished to be let alone. So he stayed where he was, caught between the desire to help and his wish not to worry her further. His thin, short tail whipped across his hips, driven by wind and agitation. The colt called from above, hooves beating an impatient rhythm on the ground, his curiosity in the stranger evident. Innately social creatures and raised in much larger herds than the group they now traveled in, all three of the true horses were curious about the new arrival. But they were intelligent creatures and well trained. It was part of his duty to protect them, and part of that protection came in the form of meeting with strangers on the road. Not that there was much of a road here.
Are you alright? He ventured the question cautiously. His voice was gentle, careful. The buckskin stallion dropped his head from it's high stance, trying to show he meant no harm in both body and voice.
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Single.
Werebeast
Authored by Rook.
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Post by Jema Slade on Oct 9, 2017 20:10:26 GMT
When he replied she knew her assumption to be right. He was like her. Her ears gradually pulled away from where they had been pinned against her head. Taking in his words even though they were not vocalized but telepathic. She also listened to the movements of the horses above them. The sounds of discontent from the youngest of them. But to his credit the stranger had stepped back and taken a less aggressive stance. Offering his side and not a full frontal opposition. Jema hesitated to speak again but they all seemed at home her...maybe they could offer her an escape. "I am...but lost."
It was then that her dark orbs took in the woven collar around each of their necks. Her muscles tightened and she rose her head a little higher. One hoof lifting in the air as if preparing for flight. "You are slaves." It wasn't a question really but a statement. Why else would they all be wearing an adornment as they did? A sign of ownership without the branding. But where there were slaves there would be a master. Danger.
She whickered softly as she watched the stranger. Her eyes moving between him and the other and on occasion to their surroundings. It had been a long while since she had met someone like herself. A shifter who took the form of a horse. But Jema being Jema she was unsure how to interact with her own kind. She had been a prisoner of her own body and now that she could speak often the words to do so evaded her.
"I did not mean to trespass, sir. I have lost my way...everything looks the same out here."
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Bard
Single.
New Denzien
Authored by Rien.
Offline.
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Post by Andreii Sandsong on Oct 9, 2017 21:05:22 GMT
Her posture seemed to relax by hairs and it made it easier for him to maintain his own relaxed posture. At her words he gives a slight toss of his head and a soft snort, almost a gentle laugh. Lost I can help you with- there's an oasis not far from here to start with and then you can tell me where you'd like to go and I can point you in the right direction.
Despite the tentative start towards... something, Andreii didn't try to approach her. Instead he waited to see if she would approach him. He didn't want to push her, not when she seemed so skittish. Then she seemed to take notice of his collar and everything changed again, swinging back towards tension like a pendulum. He was confused for a minute as well. Slaves? He looked to the side uncertainly as if not quite sure what she meant, or if she referred to him. But there was no one else for her to speak with. He lowered his head, rubbing the side of his muzzle against his foreleg to ease an itch as he responded.
My people and I do not practice slavery and never have. It's... it's just not something that should be done. There aren't any slaves here, not that I know of at least. Nor are you trespassing. The desert doesn't belong to anyone and you haven't caused harm to any. he caught movement above as the mare and colt left the crest of the hill, wandering out of sight to the other side. Sokol snorted and pranced on the crest of the hill. The golden were-horse whickered in return and the blood bay turned to follow his mare. He would find them again soon enough- he suspected they would wander to the oasis he intended to take the mare to, if she wished to follow.
A stranger's promise that you will not come to harm may not count for much, but I can show you the way to water and I will not come nearer if you do not wish.
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Unknown.
Single.
Werebeast
Authored by Rook.
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Post by Jema Slade on Oct 10, 2017 2:43:33 GMT
He could help her. Plus he knew where there was water. She found herself straining toward him and what he could offer her. Her speckled frame leaning even as her hooves remained planted. He continued on to tell her there were no slaves within these lands and that the desert was unowned. His words felt fantastical almost. The horses on the ridge splintered away, Jema watching through her ivory locks as they did so. And then a strangers promise was offered to her. One that sounded quite similar to what Enzo had told her not so long ago.
And that hadn't turned out badly...maybe this time wouldn't either. She took a few steps closer to him, timid nervous steps of a mare ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "Alright." The agreement, like her other words came timidly. Cautiously. She practically tiptoed to his side. Her nose stretching out to tentatively sniff at his shoulder. Her ear perked and alert for any sign she needed to move to escape a lashing or attack.
"..you have horses with you." She said softly. Her dark eyes lifting to the ridge they had disappeared from. "Are they...free? You live with them?" She was incredibly curious about this mystery man who appeared like an apparition in the desert. About these horses than ran with him like family. They weren't slaves he said, so were they family? Were the other's shifters as well? She had so many questions. An inquisitive mind that had been starved of answers for so long. But she managed to bite the majority of them back. Gray lips pressing back against her teeth as her softly dished face turned slightly to study him.
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