Your King Asmodeus | ||
Your Queen | ||
The Second None | ||
The Herd Name, Name, Name | The Sub-Herd Name, Name, Name | |
Allies Name (Land) | Enemies Solomon (Cove) | |
The Rules
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KAIYA was not surprised to hear the stallion chirping out a few last words before wheeling on his haunches to glide off into the blue yonder with his new prize in tow. Truth be told, the golden mare had half expected El Shetan to keep talking, despite the fact that it was very clear he was not the type of stallion to waste time chatting on the main Island when he could be rounding up more mares, or admiring the treasured warmth of his home terrain. But the rural-bred female did not reply, did not even glance at the black Arab. And as soon as he’d taken towards a direction, her feet picked up mechanically, following the brute without care. Before long they had made it to the shore and entered the freezing salt water quickly. Kaiya did not hesitate, but merely plunged into the sea foam as if this were a regular occurrence (and so far it had been). Brody was far less eager and tolerant of the situation, but given the fact that his dam was already swimming with water over her withers, the colt was left with little choice if he wished to remain under her protection. The swim tired the mare, but the burning in her muscles from the acid leaked during her stretch of intense exercise was a welcomed and familiar feeling. She was unusually hardy and use to these kinds of adventures. Kaiya did not worry about becoming exhausted. She did not worry about the heat, nor the cold, nor how much water she would have to live on for any given month. She had been raised in harsh conditions, bred by harsh conditions, and made to expect them. Her strong, mildly petite form treated every situation the same: a potential, though never expected, last. When at long last they had climbed from the suction of the ocean, their pelts glittering again under the strong sunlight, drying them quickly to leave crusty lines of salt and sand over their backs and limbs, the palomino followed El Shetan without a word. Her son was dragging behind them by several paces, not grown enough to understand the strength which still remained in his haunches. He was so weak. Kaiya never expected him to grow into a lead, nor to survive in a bachelor gang as anything above the ranks of their lowest mare. If Brody was smart, he would stick to what he was capable of until he actually learned something, and slip into a position as a subordinate of a powerful herd under a benevolent king. El Shetan spoke of an oasis to which he would guide them, but true to his fashion thus far, he kept talking. Kaiya’s ears were swung low and faintly pressed backwards, as if she were perpetually doomed to a sour mood. She snorted the salt from her charcoal nostrils and did not respond to the stallion as he listed concerns and advice about the desert. She knew deserts. None exactly like this one, with its rolling dunes and sky-rise palm trees, but she knew its heat, the dangers that hid in the same shrub shade you would see as salvation. She knew the scarce watering holes and the rough granules of sand which would find their way into every crevice of your body. She did not worry about them, though silently would take notes on the exact locations of refreshment El Shetan’s territory had to offer. Finally as they came upon the oasis and El Shetan mentioned another mare calling his Desert home, Kaiya found it suitable to speak. “This will do fine,” it wasn’t an exact response to the stallion’s mentioning of the other equine, but rather an empty acceptance as she watched Brody suddenly pick up his pace and come rocketing from the dunes behind them, crashing into the clear pool of liquid until it swelled at his flanks. Kaiya tossed back her crown and resisted the temptation the oasis had to offer, choosing instead to put together the puzzle pieces that were El Shetan. “How long have you presided here?” she did not mention the Desert directly, nor set apart her implied meaning of ‘here’ to either the Islands themselves or the black’s territory. She would let him decide what he had to say. KAIYA : BRUMBY : EIGHT : MARE : 15.1HH : PALOMINO: ee/Aa/nCr BRODY continued to watch the black stallion’s sharp hooves from beneath the curve of his dam’s stomach, bright blue eyes feasting on the interaction between them as if he were a stow-away. The stallion spoke once more, but his dam did not reply. When the young colt saw El Shetan’s feet whirl and his form move off, he felt the tenseness in his dam’s limbs as she soon set the pace and he was forced to follow, his mind swimming with concerns which his mother might never address.
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