The ash dusted mare feels the discord, the unrest, long before the sounds of distress reach her ever listening ears. Like an impending storm on the horizon, Khar’pern can feel the electricity in the air. It prickled the ends of her rose hued hairs and no amount of shuddering seemed able to stifle it. Something was coming… and that was almost worse than knowing.
The first screams of distaste cause her small, fluted ears to flicker. It was not uncommon for squabbles to break out amongst herdmates, especially when someone invaded another’s personal space or encroached on a particularly flavorful patch of shortgrass. That, Kar was used to. However, as the mountain zephyr’s billow around her, an all too familiar scent rushes into her nostrils, causing her finely dished head to lift immediately. Crystal eyes narrow as a silent snarl curls its way across her scarred lips. She knew him… and knew him well enough to know his presence in the Peak was far worse than the ill omen of prickling pelt she ad been feeling earlier.
With a toss of her head, the mottlen mare lunges towards the rising sounds of discord, adrenaline giving her bruised and tender legs wings. She had misjudged him before, expected him to merely roll over and flee at the sight of her determination and forward demeanor. The gray ghost had not been phased and it was her turn to be bested and battere. She had returned to the Peak to nurse her wounds and let the mountains song soothe her battered ego. Between the icy waters she soaked her bruises in and the overall comfort she felt in the Peaks, she was on the mend… however even with recovery, she was not certain she was healed enough to face the pale stallion on her own yet.
’I must try. I MUST try’ The determined voice repeats itself again and again in her mind, lending strength to her battered body. By the time her hurried steps leap clear of the last small larches that hinders her vision, she is prepared.Small ears perk forward as icy eyes sweep over the scene that lay before her. The pale mare she did not recognize, but from the look of her, she had come here seeking refuge. Her body dripped with sea water, plastering the small summer hairs of her body against her skin, making her tense muscles appear even more pronounced and causing Khar herself to tense.
’Get away from her! Hollis run!’ those words belonged to Marceline whose dappled red body drew her gaze next. Although there was a sense of tension between herself and the red mare, Khar could not help but to appreciate the ex-queen’s devotion to the sisterhood of the Peaks.
There is another stallion, dark in color lingering in her peripheral with whispering words and glassy eyes of warmth but he does not gain her attention. Despite his imposing size, and gilded words, he was not the threat. HE was.
There, standing in the pale mare’s path with the same disgusting expression of confidence on his face, is the cream stallion. Instantly, raven tipped ears disappear beneath the ashen tendrils of her own mane and Khar wastes no more time. There was no more assessment that she could take. The demon had returned and by the gods she would stop him.
Once again, she felt a sense of relief at the sight of Marceline as the spotted woman lunged forward towards the smug stallion with the same disgust in her own eyes. A bugle of rage rings from her own vocals as she closes the gap of space between them, charging past the pale, painted mare and pivoting her steps to slow into place alongside Marceline. A throaty snarl lingers in her breast as daggers of ice glare into the sadistic expression of the stallion’s azul eyes. ”The odds do not favor you now white demon… I suggest you leave while you are still able to under your own accord.” Now it is her time to smile. A cheshire grin, slides easily into place along the curve of her ashen labrums. He might be willing to take her own alone with a smugness to him that infuriated Khar, but was he willing to test his luck against two fierce peak defenders?
