Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
'Call me Calfuray.... you MUST call me Calfuray. Never mama.' The words are a near daily reminder these past months. What it was that scared her mother so much, Ramoth does not know. She has asked, seen the other foals playing carefree in the meadows and followed them with longing in her eyes. She wants to play, to feel what it is like to have no cares or worries. She wants that freedom. But each time her blue green eyes gaze up at Calfuray, she sees something that prevents her from calling out. SHe does not ask anymore, merely follows them with her sharp gaze. Sometimes, she can picture herself chasing at their heels, a blur of chocolate and silver hues dancing the same unsung melody. 'You must hide. Never let them see you...' the urgency in that voice always lingers until the images disappear and once more her dreams fade to black. Nothing.
The warmth of spring and summer fade and autumn at its heels. Ramoth decided quite early on that icy rain and falling leaves is not nearly as much fun to chase as fireflies and crickets. The nights have grown increasingly longer and days much shorter, all the while, the young girl continues to grow into the gangly long legs and awkward knees that have been her curse since birth. Life with just Calfuray has prepared her as best it could, granting her a decent amount of fluff for her coarse winter coat of which she was increasingly grateful for. Yet despite that, the young girl cannot help but to groan aloud as Calfuray stirs her from the comfortable nest she had curled into the night before.There is something I want to show you...' the grey mare's words were a barely audible whisper but enough to wake her immediately. "Show me what?" she asks heaving herself onto her still too long legs. Blue green eyes blink excitedly up at her mother, small ears perked forward in anticipation. Calfuray has never been the most talkative, as though somehow staring at Ramoth reminded her of what she wished to forget. It used to bother her, used to make her sad, but not anymore. Now she follows meekly in Calfuray's heels, occasionally bumping her muzzle or shoulder against the moonwashed mare's warm hip just to make sure Calfuray knew she was still there. Calfuray led her away from the sanctuary of the trees and woody brush and into the open meadow of yellow-brown grasses still frosted with the night's chill. Wide-eyed she peered from behind the gray mare to gaze up at the large tree ahead of them, its ruddy brown-red leaves swaying to the tune of a breeze so gentle even she did not notice it. But that is not what surprises her the most. What catches her attention is the blotches of white that dusted the ground surrounding the gentle rise. "Ma...Calfuray." she corrects herself midsentance, her ears tucking back momentarily in apology. "...Wha..what is that? Does it hurt?" she asks, brushing against the gray mare to face the unfamiliar threat head on. Well, she THOUGHT head on.What she was NOT prepared for was the tornado of leaves and legs that appears from behind the tree. What. the. hell.Call it fear, excitement, or a mixture of both. For a moment, Ramoth is not quite sure what to do with her hooves as a surprised squeal rings from her tossed head and heels backpedal over the uneven ground which only end in an unceremonious catastrophe. One hoof catches on an upturned root and despite her attempt (well lack thereof really), Ramoth's chocolate-colored rump ends up hitting the dirt at her mother's hooves. The ONLY thing that saves her utter embarrassment is the name. 'Calfuray??..' The shock of the whirlwind subsides as Ramoth turns her white-rimmed eyes to the unfamiliar voice. This one knew mama? In this moment the world stopped. The falling leaves settle to the earth as recognition begins to kick in. Another filly. A mare. A is that knew mama? Curiosity and confusion flooded her brain now as she shifted her gaze up to Calfuray's towering outline. Was she what Calfuray was afraid of? This white spotted mare? Was she supposed to run? Was this what mama wanted to show her? W...was she going to get to play the games she used to watch from her hiding place in the woods? She glances back at the mare and filly again and then once more up at the gray mare "Ca...Calfuray?" her voice stutters, uncertain but hopeful.