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.
| THERE’S A DARKER SHADE OF COURAGE in the strength i've found |
|
Tan Jala affected not to show any signs that he’d acknowledged or even heard the persistent mare’s words. When she made to move closer, so that she was well within his sight, he merely turned his back on her, blunt in his dismissal. In his mind, at least, he’d made it clear that he was not the least bit interested in going with her, to wherever she had come from. What happened next was her fault, really. Tan Jala would always remain blameless in his own eyes. Finally he seemed to show natural instinctive behaviour – jerking away from the snapping mare, his ears pinned. But the scream that split the air did not come from his mouth. From the thin band of trees that had served as a wind break, a large, heavily built mare burst into view, her thundering hooves pulling her into the space between Tan Jala and Shaydowfax. Her dark eyes burned like coals as she mimicked the smaller mare, and sought to close her own teeth on the mare’s sandy gold skin, albeit with much more aggression and a desire to cause injury. The liver chestnut mare would attempt to bite again and again until the other mare got the message: back off. If Shaydowfax moved to return aggression, the splashed white female would show no sign of withdrawing. Her dark hide was littered with scars, most notably down the length of her throat – evidence that she’d survived more than her fair share of physical injury, and hinting that she was no stranger to pain. With another warning squeal, the chestnut tossed her head and pawed at the earth with one large hoof, scraping at the hardened ground beneath the thin layer of snow. “Banshee, it’s alright,” Tan Jala said softly, a smug smile curling across his lips as he stepped to the side so that he could meet Shaydowfax’s gaze. “Who do you think you are to make demands of me?” His words were cold and cutting, revealing a darker and more devious side that had been hidden until now, just as the iron-hard earth beneath their hooves was covered over with a soft layer of snow. “Perhaps you need to leave, and look elsewhere, as I tried to suggest earlier. You would not listen to me then, but you will now.” There is no room in his tone for denial. Tan Jala is not asking, he is commanding. “Perhaps if you leave me be now, I might be inclined to visit these Dunes you speak of, but it will be when I am good and ready. Do not think for a second that just because you call yourself Queen that I will bow to you, or anyone else.” After a moment’s silence and stillness to allow his words to sink in, the appaloosa male turns and ambles away, not once looking back. And still, Banshee towers between them, an impenetrable wall. If Shaydowfax moves to follow after Tan Jala, Banshee will move to block her path, and if the buckskin mare attempts to say anything, Banshee will snap again. Tan Jala clearly wants to hear no more from the Dunes Queen at present, and he is in no mood to be tested further. In fact, he spells it out plainly. “Foolish little Monarch, coming into the bitter wilderness in such a vulnerable state and making demands of strangers. It’s a wonder you’re still alive, really. Leave, or Banshee will hurt you, if not the child you carry so recklessly into danger.” The imposing, savage liver chestnut mare remained on guard even after Tan Jala had disappeared beyond the thin belt of trees. If Shaydowfax was stubborn and unwise enough to still be lingering, Banshee wouldn’t hesitate to chase her off, using whatever means necessary. She was restless and it had been far too long since Tan Jala had let her loose on anyone. |