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Post by ghost on Aug 31, 2010 12:30:12 GMT -6
From the first day that the kingdom of sun had been created, it searched for its perfect leader. A certain criteria was in place for the beast who thought themselves worthy of the task. A black heart full of war and a undying devotion to the god himself, Sol. Some say that others have tried, and failed over the course of history, but it was all bound to happen, for Vee, the darkest steed in the land, was destined to the the leader.
And destiny did its duties.
The sun rose up into the center of the sky as Vee looked around his new lands. So far, so good. They must have seen something special in him and he knew that. Holding his head up high and proud an enormous neigh rumbled through his vocal chords. A warning to those who follow other gods, and a welcome to any who seen things his way, which of course, were the right way. A smirk shown on his features, he did see himself as the perfect leader for these lands. Though never too proud to look up for a moment, as a thanks to Sol for allowing him to be here.
When he looked around the plains, each corner was flooded with an abundance of sunlight. Sol, you serve me well he thought with a fiery smile upon his maw. Though this land was perfect, it was missing just one thing.... Minions, followers, doormats, whatever you wanted to justify them as. He then carried his perfectly curved charcoal body to the homeless lands to gather up some others.
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Post by Fajer on Aug 31, 2010 19:33:45 GMT -6
I do not think I am fit to be a doormat. But I think you would make a very nice red carpet.
She goes for lookers, she'll be the first to admit. She is a vain creature and will not stand to be connected to (or associated with) and creature who is not at least a little bit attractive, though she does adjust these standards to fit her others. Looks are not everything, even the beauty queen knows this. For to be beautiful (or handsome) but have rocks for brains or, worse yet, no wit, was a fate worse than death or ugliness. To be with her, to gain her interest, one had to be interesting, and preferable a bit...odd.
Matiz had been so. He was, and remains, her first "love", though neither would admit it if you asked. But then he'd gone; she could understand that. She could be a wanderer as well. But she'd never heard from him again. In her mind, though she mourned for him, he was dead. The quirky stallion raised by the kings of the sky was no more, and she needed to find a different "friend".
And oh how easily and how often white meets black. Once more.
She knew he was leaving, probably to go look for a harem. But she didn't care. He would return, possibly before he left, if he caught her scent soon enough. Not just her heat scent; the time for breeding was still in bloom, but she, as a general rule, had a pleasant scent. Of course. She was Javan.
She watched him as he ambled off, admiring his beauty. She didn't mind his simple coloring. Hers, though opposite, was simple as well. Except for her dark patches, those in her nortrils and ears and covering her muzzle. Those made her special. And she was special. But, she hoped, he would be too.
And so she waited.
Boy, you'd better be good. I practically gave myself to you. But that doesn't mean I'll stay.
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Post by ghost on Sept 2, 2010 7:44:11 GMT -6
Before long, the gallant steed returned in a classical manner. Quick and loud. His dark optics frantically surveyed his lands in search of any threat. Positioning his field of view from one corner to the other. He seized all motion when the scent of a foreigner entered his nostrils. Bewildered and almost heated, his ears pinned back. No other uninvited stallion would ever be permitted to leave here, not without a fight. His ears pinned back against is skull, he was pissed. It was his duty to protect this land, and what happened? He left for a minute and came back to an intruder. Ready to face the visitor, he pivoted in a graceful manner but with a mind fueled by fire.
At first look, any further motion was hindered. The pure beauty and elegance could not be held by any stallion, besides himself of course. This was a different kind of beauty though. Full of poise, a perfectly angelic milky pelt, and eyes darkened with black. His ears slowly drifted forward, he was wildly intrigued by this image of pure perfection. He had never been stricken immobile before until this very moment. As he stood deathly still, her sweet scent entered his nose once more. This time he could more clearly smell that she was obviously a vixen.
As he stood there, attempting to regain his composure, he hoped she wasn't sent here for something to wreck his kingship. After a long few seconds, he lifted his head up high and proud and moved at first one leg, followed by another. Eventually, the distance was closed. Even more beautiful up close, he couldn't help but drool over her, in his mind of course, as he wasn't usually one to show his emotions. If she knew where she had him though, it could probably be used to her advantage. Though cliche, he lowered his body into a bow where he stayed for just a moment before returning to his normal upright position. He contemplated introducing himself, but decided against it hoping she would speak first.
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Post by Fajer on Sept 2, 2010 8:39:15 GMT -6
Well, what can I say? She is beautiful.
Javan did not have long to wait. Even though he did leave, the lands of the homeless and pathetic were not very far. He was back momentarily. Well, it might have been twenty minutes or something. It wasn't bad.
She was grazing when the wind shifted. He was returning. Still a good distance off, but getting closer. Not wanting to be caught stuffing herself, the white fem immediately lifted her head and pricked her ears, searching for him. She was still in the position when he probably saw her for the first time.
She wasn't really being fair. Everyone looks good when they're alrert, especially horses.
She, a living statue for the moment, relaxed. She stood tall and she stood proud, but she allowed herself to move. Her tail switched the foolish fly that dared to mar her pelt and he fell to the ground.
And she waited.
It took him forever to make his way from where he was, wherever that might have been, to her. She watched as he approached, once again admiring the sleekness of his pelt. He was smaller than she would have thought, and the closer he got, the more she saw that she would stand above him by a couple of hands. This did not bother her. He was compact, but still Arabian and still beautiful and she was impressed, at least a little.
He stopped before her and he bowed, holding the position. And she smiled. Not a full smile, more a curling of her lips that would leave him wondering just how lovely a full smile would be. Yes, she's a flirt. As he rose, her hint of a smile remained and she inclined her head in the slightest of nods.
It seems we know who's wearing the pants at the moment.
Finally opening her mouth, Javan spoke first, here vocals rich and even a little bit deep, like a dark pool of water, ringing out.
Hello there.
Wow. That's...annoying.
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Post by ghost on Sept 4, 2010 9:29:36 GMT -6
Now that you've got my attention.
When he rose from his bow, he quickly noticed that was a a good deal shorter than himself. If only horses could blush. The next thing he noticed was that half smile of hers. Instantly tantalized by it, though left wondering more. He had not a clue of how she had him wrapped up like this so quick, but he wasn't complaining.
Though gorgeous and immaculate, shockingly he had never been in "love". In fact, he had never even come within striking distance. Not that he wasn't able to attract others, he had every ability, the opportunity just hadn't arose. Saying this, no he was not a father, nor was he engaged in any other relations. He had been alone for a quite long time.
Just when he was feeling awkward about not speaking, the silence disintegrated and an alluring voice rung out.
Hello there? He thought about what he could possibly say to that.
His vocal chords prepared themselves for speech.
'Ello beautiful creature. Allow me to introduce myself. I am V, king of the Sun Runners. Pleased to meet you.
His voice was deep, captivating, and boasted a foreign accent.
He flipped his long forelock away from his eye where it flowed like water in the direction. Even though you could say he was new to this, it came naturally to him. Pleased with his smooth talk, he allowed a small smile to slip onto his dark maw as he stood there awaiting a response.
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