Trust Is Not For The Faint of Heart (Open)

[Hambre De Los Lobos Aulladores]

The wind moaned as the rain cascaded down in giant walls. The ghastly looking trees swayed all around like protruding fingers, combing the earth and grabbing almost anything and everything that they possibly could. The once luminous surroundings in the small and deserted valley were now sickly looking and all washed free of the colour that spotted the earth that were once welcoming and amazing was all ghastly looking and terrifying as the lands seemingly warped exposing the true feeling of death to the airs. The silhouette of a dark equine mare was threading its way through the tough sharp brambles in one of the many outlining forests and volcanoes that littered the area as they stood smoldering and ready to erupt any moment.

All the rather large mare could think of was to thunder onward to find her next victim to either battle against or challenge to a good old fashioned exercise of jumping, dancing and flat out racing across the lands. She could hear the mournful song of the beaten and shamed equine that she left behind fade slowly away as she did not once break pace. The massive black Hanoverian mare did not fear for anything, even her own life at this particular moment for she was not scared. Her old herd had done everything to her and she was accustomed to pain and the feel of victory in anything as she flew through the next sharp nettle bush and then tucked in her legs perfectly to her well toned bodice to leap freely over the battered and hazardous fallen logs and trees of the small outcropping.

She could not for the life of her keep her mind off the evil and disturbing images that she loved so much when she beat another in a small duel or a full out race till death. The best part by far of the night was resting her gentle looking orbs upon the broken down soul of the body of her victim laying there in a warm pool of their own distress and disbelief at their loss with a pained look and trying to grasp the straws of their pride back from death. The pain that was held within the victim's once bright orbs was so powerful that the mare could not stop relishing the look and playing it over again and again in her mind.

The mares victim had saved their strength that was quickly seeping out of them in large pools of tears to say their final words to their much hated assassin of pride and happiness. They had identified who the young black mare was and swore revenge from them upon her in the future and they would never give up their search to duel once more with her. Their final words echoed in the young black mares mind happily as she pummeled onward. They had said in a ragged and tearful voice, “You…you will....not....not get away....with this! .....I shall and will.....will cut you down when I find you again to challenge you once more Xantha!” With their last ragged breath their body became over racked with spasms and then they lay down their once proud crown, to never rise again until they got back at her and cut her down a few pegs.

The black mare with the white markings on her face and hind leg gleamed in the light of the night. The soiled bodice of the mare from all the rains plastered her mane and tail to her form in a seductive yet naked appearance. Her body then started to quiver at the though of actually finding a good and worthy stud to court her as well as keep up with her in her competitiveness. She counted on the equine behind her to come for her once more to have a rematch and avenge their fallen pride and spirit.

The young mares breath came in shorter and raspier gasps as she started to slow. Her lungs just started to burn from the long, harsh and hard run and started to constrict her normal breathing patterns. The world started to grow dimmer and darker. She had started to think in a doubtful mind “This is it. I shall never in my life meet my match and finally compete against someone worth my efforts. I have no one to care about so they can not use them against me and I have nothing worth striving for to live. I shall possibly meet my doom at last with no triumph at all."

The consistent moaning of the wicked winds started to fall completely silent and all there was, was the ever consuming darkness as she now started to fall toward the onrushing, hard packed, earth. Her legs went first and then the rest of her body came crashing down in the slick mud now that seeped out of the torn earth beneath her massive body. Her head finally came to a resting position after her entire body slid a few feet as she fell into the sodden earth and allowed the darkness to overtake her thoughts and sight as well as sound and smell. She was dead to the world for now as her lungs wheezed from the strenuous gallop over the many lands and never once stopping or breaking pace to regain her breath. Now her form lay still on the mud slicked earth as half her body was covered with the sticky black goo. The only sign of life was from the rise and fall of her sides in a rapid succession.

[Kalovantha]

The dusky rose form had been moving all the day from the crack of dawn. Patrolling his lands, searching for his beloved though he'd never admit, waiting for an intruder to skulk into his land and attempt to steal, and of course, preying on the innocent that thought it wise to roam into his lands of all lands. Who was he? You've got to be kidding me. He was Dark Vampire, Vampire to many, Vampy to a select group, and to say he was irked by the intruder was to put it mild.
The scent of the mare had reached him and he whirled around, releasing a scream that had many a horse shrink from him in fear. Oh no, he was not some pansy light. He was cruel, merciless, bloodthirsty, arrogant, and let's not forget mildly touched in the mind. Of course he would openly admit to many of his attribute. Flaws? Not in his mind, he was utter perfection in a way so many could only hope to be and such showed even in his pelt. Rose greys were noted for greying out quickly in their youth, and here he was, almost a decade old and still that lovely dusk rose grey pelt graced his frame. He certainly was unique.
Even as the mare was resting in his lands the stallion as bolting along, talons digging into the ground with every stride and kicking up great clots of the ground as he thundered along. Who knew an arab could cause such destruction? Of course he did, he was doing it! And did he care? Not one little bit! He'd grown bitter again, more hostile, more grouchy, and just down-right meaner than before. He wasn't a stud any should be messing with.
He moved towards the resting mare, sliding to a halt and lashing out with one fore limb though with no intent on hitting the mare, yet. A snarl escaped his maw as he bared his bloodstained and yellowed teeth, the wolf teeth lit with a dull gleam.
"Get up worthless harlot and you'd best be explaining why your in my lands." The words, such savage fury. Oh he knew it was a mare, he just didn't like intruders. His banner sang through the air as it lashed over his hocks and he tossed his dished dial high, harks hugging the nape of his neck as he half-reared before coming down with a thud. "Speak quickly lest you wish to know the true meaning of pain." He snarled, advancing a couple steps closer.
It was not wise to disobey the Vampire in his own realm, not when he knew the layout of the land like he knew his own hooves. Not to mention it just wasn't wise to anger a fresh stallion when one was so worn out like the mare clearly was. Well, she'd certainly met with one stallion that stood out like a diamond amongst rocks, but was it good or bad? Who knows really?

((OOC: ....I've missed this boy ))

[Hambre De Los Lobos Aulladores]

The world was dim but not quite blackened out of the ebony mares senses. The world was crying it seemed as she decided to lay where she fell to have but a little rest before carrying onward in her scrutinizingly fast pace. Then over the sounds of the falling waters and the scent of the thick and pungent muck that now adorned her facade there was another scent and sound that penetrated the airs. It sounded like another equine that was moving fast but not taking care in their carrying of their form to get the maximum power of it all. Heaving a small sigh in thinking that she would have to beat down another competitor in her tired state she rolled her optics and then proceeded to look around the surrounding area with her form partially up in her laying position. The thick and smelly mud had caked onto her form making her look completely black as it covered up her white markings on her face and hind leg and her mane was plastered to her neck thick with mud and rain waters.

The as she looked out to the area the form presented itself as a smaller stallion than she had expected. His coat was dark with the rain and therefore the true colour was not really presented to her fine optics as the dark also deteriorated what could be made out of this stallion that continually approached her. When he finally came to a stop not two feet from her laying form and lashed out with his fore hooves as he snarled at her. Instinctively she rolled over with a speed that would have proved useful to any other equine in this pickle and away from his thrashing hooves. She could see in his optics that he had intent on possibly hurting her to some degree as she was most obviously on his lands and she then rose in one rapid and fluid moment. Her full height of 17.2 now poised to go on the attack if he were to lunge at her. She was trained after all to attack when she could and never to retreat.

She was not frightened of this stallion who was obviously a whole hand shorter than herself and her form was built and ready for action. When she had risen to her hooves after he had snarled at her she had heard angrily on the winds through bloodstained teeth that she was worthless and he demanded to know why she was in his lands. Narrowing her optics to mere slits she knew she deserved the second part of that speech but the first was completely uncalled for. Giving a fierce growl of her own she spoke back to the stallion before her now with deadly intentions, " Okay first off I know that I deserved the second part of your greeting so I shall answer that first. I was just passing though and not seeing anyone to ask for a place to rest for only a few moments I though these lands deserted. Now back to the first part of that awful mannered salutation."

As she paused slightly her form still poised for an attack if he were to move first she continued with a mocking and almost threatening voice, " The first part I did not deserve no matter what. Calling someone worthless is just rude. It would be like me saying that you were a shrimp of a stallion that was worth nothing as well and deserved nothing but ill treatment for the way that you assume that you can bully others into doing what you want and getting all that you want. If anything you are nothing but spoiled and I have only come for a few moments to rest here. I have no intentions of ever joining a herd, especially one led by the likes of you, and I have no intentions of taking over any lands for my own wants and desires. It is a pointless waste of a mortal life and I would much rather spend my life in solitude while exploring the world. So as you can see I have no interest whatsoever in the lights, darks or stallions for that matter. The lights are too goody too-shoes and the darks, well......I shall not say anymore."

Now as she watched this stallion with extreme distaste for his lack of manners she snorted loudly as she sent flecks of water that were glistening on her muzzle out and back to the world of the waters. Her form did not relax and she was ready for anything this stallion would dish out. She was a whole hand taller than he so she more than likely weighed a bit more than him as well. Her strong Hanoverian blood roared though her veins and her feminine face stared at him basically telling him off and not betraying a single thing to him. Then she thought for a little while and then spoke in a little kinder tone toward the stallion," Lets say that we just dismiss what has been done and start anew. For example offer each other out names and possibly be a bit more polite, not that you have to be like those cursed lights and be all goody goody, but to just have a bit more poise in tone. I am called Xantha and I travel far and wide to just live free and never have to worry about anything in life other than living to the fullest and defeating others in contest." Now she waited as she stared at the stallion with semi-slitted optics and waited for him to say something or else act out.