Accept the fires from which I came ;;

Broken Dreams ;

( check my vital signs )

The sound of thunder clapped loudly overhead, followed by a strike of lightening. More rain was on its way, and by the smell of the air- with much filtering through the mucky, stagnant waters and stench of decay- it was coming within the next few minutes. He didn't need to be psychic to figure that out. It was probably because of the thunder and lightening strike that Broken Dreams didn't hear the hoof beats of the one called Taboo approaching until the last minute. His harks quickly swiveled in the paint's direction, dial following, and nodded to the other. He had seen him in the group of others, but had had only eyes for Freya. He didn't know what it was about her that made him so attracted to her, but it was like he was intoxicated with just....her. Everything about her drove him mad with this ...not love, but fairly similar to it.

No, there had only ever been two mares he had loved: his mother, and the one mare he had fallen for, but was unable to save in the rushing flood. She had cracked her skull on the wolfen-rock, knocked unconscious, and had drown. He had barely been able to keep his own head above the water, but he cried a soul-wrenching scream of despair when he saw go beneath the turbulent waves, never to rise from the again. Time passed, and he had found himself washed ashore, miles away from where he had gotten his herd driven to. He, the shadow one, had been the reason they had lost their crown amongst the other herds and lands; it was because of this black and gray stallion that they had been forced to live in a scavenged land, where shelter and food were scarce. But that had not been the reason for him to change his name from the one his dearest mother had given him, to what he called himself now. It hadn't been because his father scorned and hated him and wished him dead, nor that he was the reason for his mother's death, but because the last straw had been because he couldn't save the one mare he had fallen for.

So, once he found himself washed ashore on a stormy day, he became Broken Dreams. Wandering the world, coming across many a strange things, and leaving what was left of his herd- if you could call all those who despise you and fear you for what you were born as a herd- behind, and finally, found himself at Hoof Prince.

And now, he found himself entangled with Freya, a beautiful blonde mare- he was beginning to wonder if he fancied blondes over any other coloring. She swayed with a sultriness that was tantalizing, she spoke with a velvety crush to her voice, her eyes danced like the waves of the ocean... he was sure something was missing, but couldn't quite put a hoof on it.

He shook his head, realizing that the other was speaking to him.

"What business do you have here?" His tones are matter-of-fact, not meant to threaten, simply interrogate. With so much undecided and the kingdom in a state of chaos, one could never be to careful of those who crossed its borders.

He took a moment before responding, thoughtfulness crossing his dark features. Truth be told, he did not entirely know why he was here. So, he shrugged a horsey shrug, and replied in an equally matter-of-fact tone, matching Taboo's tone to show that he wasn't there to mean any harm: "Freya." There really was no other explanation. He had been meandering about The Arbors, looking for recruits for his slot of land, when Freya had entangled him in his heart, and made it pound a funny little thump whenever she was around. "Taboo, I'm here for her. She invited me back to Scythia; I had felt something amiss once this flooding began, and now I see why. I remain here because of the lovely Freya, and because I am curious to see what transpires between the Valkyries and the Rajputs." He let out a second soft whicker, calling his Freya to him, missing her company. She hadn't been around for several days, and Broken was missing her company like an addict misses his drug. He flicked his tail, and the rain began to pour down with a second booming thunderclap. It was light at first, but he knew it would get heavier as the seconds passed. Courant, if I wasn't busy entertaining others over here, I'd go to your temple to see what's upsetting you so much as to drown the inhabitants of Hoof Prince, he thought grumpily. This weather was making him reminisce of his past, and that was no happy thing. He was trying to accept it, but it still ate at him like a parasite that sucks the life blood of another.


( to know that I’m still alive and I walk alone )