The Lost Islands
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Your King
Asmodeus
Your Queen
Nyimara
The Second
None
The Herd
Name, Name, Name
The Sub-Herd
Name, Name, Name
Allies
Name (Land)
Enemies
Solomon (Cove)
The Rules
  • There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue.
  • We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc.
  • The King and Queen have final say in all matters.
Shadows dancing in the dark;
Posted on May 16, 2020 at 04:15:02 AM by Harlequin


Harlequin was at a loss.



Though she had not been particularly fond of anyone save for what relationship she and Cain had somehow managed to maintain, the bay mare Geneva had begun to slowly grow on her, especially after their battle for dominance. Harlequin was not a fan of control, of any sort. When Cain first claimed her that day in the commons she had balked at his determination and found pleasure in resisting his oppressive nature. She had come to learn, over time, that he was not the domineering stallion she had first thought him to be. He had been brash that day, but as time wore on and her resistance more of a familiarity to him; their relationship managed to blossom in a rather unusual but productive manner.



She had been the one to seek him out. She had been the one to come to him when the heat of autumn was at its strength and the call of nature too much for her to ignore the strength of his powerful build. Their coupling had been brief, but it had been one memorable for her. Usually, her time alone had been spent even a thought to such urges in the wilds of the world. Since coming to the deserts, she was beginning to realize from watching the herd-mares with their foals gathered close, the longing that she felt for a child of her own. Never would she forget the closeness she felt for Cain, as his forelegs gripped her sides and the weight of his muscular frame pressed upon her back. Never would she forget the first time she felt the flutterings of life as the growth of her barrel began to swell. It had been a joyous experience then. Now, she was downright uncomfortable. Everything ached. She felt stretched and uncomfortable in her own skin. However none of what pained her was as bad as how Cain looked. Even from afar, he seemed at a loss, completely downtrodden in the loss of not just Zubia, but now of Geneva and the foal that they had tried so hard to save. She had watched from a distance, helpless in any way to support him as Geneva slowly succumb to her wounds. Even now her small dark muzzle wrinkled in the memory of the odor given off by the infectious wounds. She had felt for the mare, the once fierce and strong woman withering away in pain into nothingness. The foal, such a small creature, had hardly been given a chance at life. It seemed cruel, that the fates that so strongly she found herself praying to each day would see fit to burden a single herd with such troubles.



Dark eyes follow each movement the black and white stallion made as tenderly he pressed the last remaining stones into place over the mounds of earth. The gravity of the scene leaving wet trails down the fine contours of her cheeks. It was not a burden any should bare. A burden that he should not be expected to bare alone.



Before she can act, a movement catches her gaze. Dark ears rotate towards the approaching figure as instinctively she lifts her proud head. Though she had never formally met the mare before, she recognized her as the woman of brandished gold. She had been among the others to bare a foal of Cain’s last season and not long after he was weaned she had departed. Often, Harlequin found herself wondering if the desert sands had swallowed her up. Even from the distance, she looked well fed and her coat of pale hues glistened in the sunlight. She does not approach him as she once had, sliding easily against his side with a gentle touch of friendly comradery. Instead she halts a short distance from him. Though Harlequin was still too far to hear the words that passed between them but she could only assume it was something akin to sympathy. Almost tentatively she finds herself stepping forward, black and white tail sweeping the hard, impacted earth beneath her. Swollen belly swings like a pendulum beneath her, causing her to draw in a deeper breath with each step she took. The conception part was fun, but at this point, she was over the pregnancy and was more than happy to see it come to a close.



She stops a few feet from them both, an ear angled towards Vihaan while her dark gaze settles on Cain. The myriad of emotions that plagued her mind now lay hidden deep beneath the dark contours of her gaze. She was the guardian and it was her fierce spirit that kept her free. Black and white skin twitches beneath the warm rays of sunlight. Spring was a time of rebirth and yet here the Desert had seen far too much death. Perhaps now the gods would see fit to let the herd dwell in peace for some time to come. A blast of air burst past her nostrils as she huffs a warm breath towards him, a comfort where no words could be found. She was quick with wit and words soaked on honeyed venom, but there is little in regards to gentle words. Perhaps motherhood might change that for her? Maybe not.



She watches as Cain turns his attention to Vihaan, a few sparing words passed between them. Casually ears switch back and forth between the two listening without trying to seem overly curious and inquisitive towards the interactions between the two. She knew that Cain had more than one story to tell, each mare had their own relationship with him after all and it was not her place to step in between that or listen unless they offer it willingly and so far, aside from mild interactions between she and Geneva, there had been none of that. So she would be here for him, a presence and warmth, but she would not intrude. Instead she shifts her gaze to where the small colt lay weakly beneath the palm, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.





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