Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.
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Screams from the earth pushed and pulled through the akhal-teke’s raven mane, stronger than the breeze of a normal night but not fierce enough to keep him inside the Lagoon for the night. The brute’s golden skin shone against the darkening horizon, the gods displaying their displeasure in cracks of lightning and loud bellows that most would call thunder. The air was electric, sending a shiver of energy across his curved spine. Summer’s end came like a roaring lion, clashing as Autumn ripped across the land. With adrenaline feeding his limbs the dark prince simply couldn’t stand still, confined to the poor excuse of a ‘brotherhood.’ Where were the men of the stories? The legends of old who fought for what they wanted and took what they desired? Where were the strong, well oiled machines that made weaker men and women quiver in fear? Karash Han snorted distastefully as he cantered away from his current home. Either someone had fed them a load of crap when describing the islands or it had fallen far from what it once was. Either way, the buckskin sabino planned to change it. Hooves pounded like an indignant drumbeat against the cracked, dry ground until he found his way onto the land known as the ‘commons,’ here. One bonus of living in the Lagoon was that he need not swim from island to island to reach the most populated areas. Still, the land was wet from the tide crashing against the dirt and sand. Licking hungrily at his well muscled legs. Let the ocean try to take me, I am stronger. He thought, heavy with enough pride to fill the entire beach. Karash Han had never been known as modest - and why should he be? He was the heir of darkness. A thing of nightmares to some and dreams to others. Closer to the edge of the beach he heard a violent commotion. Intrigued, his auds flickered forward and his icy blue eyes locked on the area the noise drew from. Yelling, in his language! Excitement pounded his chest, as if it could break free from its body as it’s own entity. Already he had found much of fate to be on his side, coming across multiple other Akhal-tekes, but this was something even more stimulating. Silent as was possible, he forced his feet to move faster. There was no way in hell he’d miss out on whatever this was. Of course, when he was in sight of the fight he paused and hid his brilliant frame. Better to observe first and then leap. Only fools rushed straight into a hurricane. It was there he observed a beautiful akhal-teke warrior that seemed to exude fire. Opposite her were two disgusting creatures. A black and bay who attacked in turns. The femme’s words chilled and invigorated him, moving his hooves forward, toward her side but not close enough to touch. Karash Han glared at the two arabians - his eyes filled his venom, as if he could turn them to stone simply by looking at them and willing it to be so. ”I would suggest leaving.” Spitting at them, his harks flew to his crown and he revealed his teeth in something resembling a snarl. Though they were all obviously weakened by a length of fighting, he was still fresh and rested. Would they dare oppose him as well? The male stomped his hoof and cracked his tassels against his side. There was of course the possibility that the mare would resent his help. But Karash couldn’t let her have all the fun now could he? male | akhal-teke | lagoon soldier | Nazar Boncuğu (x ReYHa) Unnamed (x Ateslemek) Unnamed (x Ak Burun) | kittyha's dark prince |