Moving Up [Cyrah]

[Kenren]

Most often, when spring is mentioned, the things that first come to mind are blue skies and new life. A nice time, after a long winter. No one immediately things of dark skies and rain. Desmond was in a rather ill mood as he trotted across the plain, hooves sinking in the muck from which new grass was growing. Old, dead stalks covered the ground, uncovered from the snow, left over from the year before. It sheltered the stallion's hooves from some of the mud, but he still had brown flecks on his legs and some on his stomach. The rest of him was wet from rain, darkening his white-grey pelt. His mood very much reflected the sky above; he didn't much like rain. With a frustrated sigh, the stallion took off at a controlled gallop, rain stinging his face, mane and tail flowing behind him. His powerful muscles rippled beneath his pelt, pushing him onward - he would find shelter if it killed him. He didn't have to keep the pace for long. The field, he found, was broken every once in a while with a lone tree, towering in the landscape. He saw one such tree, and had reached it in minutes. The budding leaves didn't stop all of the rain, but it was much better than being in the open. Breathing deeply after the exercise, he shook his body, sending water flying. He'd be miserable until the sun came out, most likely. He hated being wet. He settled with his side of the trunk, only semi-alert looking at the landscape. He didn't have to be too careful; he'd see anything coming long before it reached him. He sighed again. It was going to be a long day.

[Scarlette]

Cyrah

The pearly colored mare grimaced slightly as she heard the faint squish sound of her hooves sinking into the wet, mucky ground. She didn’t mind the dark, grey sky or the fact that another storm was lurking just beyond the horizon. In fact, she liked all the rain and storms they were getting. It was a nice change of pace, since the weather was never predictable. One storm may be short and sweet, while the next could be almost a day’s length and wild; full of lightning and booming thunder so loud that it rattled your heart in your chest. The rain had already done its number on her, but she didn’t care. The rain couldn’t mar her beauty. The rain darkened her pearly coat to make it only slightly darker, bringing out the golden tint to her coat. Her mane and tail were darkened almost to the color of wheat from the rain, too. A grin broke out across her face as the rain began to patter against her face; her pale blue eyes turning up towards the grey sky, as if to silently thank the rumbling clouds to raining upon her. The mare kicked up her pace to a powerful run, straining her muscles as she ran. She felt free as she tore through the plains.

Once content that she had wasted enough energy with running, the pearly mare slowed to a languid trot. The storm was worsening, and even Cyrah knew better than to try to go against nature. Her pale eyes combed the landscape, looking for something to keep herself sheltered until the storm passed. Spotting a tree not too far off, the mare altered her course. She could see the faint outline of something white, but she didn’t care. If it was another horse, then so be it. She could use some social interaction anyways.

{Tag: Desmond Grail
{Notes: xx

[/size]

[Kenren]

True to thought, Desmond saw the light mare before she saw him. Like a predator, her movement caught his eye, and he watched her with sharp attention as she pulled out of a powerful run in much the same way he had not long ago. She was built for power, like he was. Even at the distance he could tell she was tall. His interest, however, did not compel him to leave his dryish place. However, he did stand straighter, neck taking on the proud arch that was his natural stance. Ah, there. Her head turned to the shelter, and she began moving toward him. No, not toward him; her eyes rested on the tree, flicking only briefly toward the stallion beneath it. She was bold, he'd give her that. The rumble of thunder drew his eyes skyward. In the distance, the sky was even darker, and streaks of lightening passed occasionally to the ground. He growled his displeasure, mirroring the deep tremor of the clouds.

Only when he brought his gaze back to earth did he realize the mare was upon the tree, walking beneath its powerful branches. Chocolate eyes took her in again from the closer distance. She was tall, as he suspected, only a few inches shorter than his own regal height. Her color was like darkened cream, mixed with white; he knew she would probably be lighter in color when she was dry, much like his own darkened grey coat. Her eyes, when he got a glimpse of them, were pale blue. The dull interest his eyes had previously taken on turned to something more possessive. This mare, built so much like himself, was beautiful. And that was not something Desmond Grail acknowledged lightly. He was quick to notice flaws, and this mare had none that but him off. A sly smile worked its way onto his maw, and he took a couple of steps toward her. "It seems odd, that such a lovely mare should be alone in this desolate place." The flattery fell from his tongue with a practiced ease; at least this time he meant it. "Have you no stallion to keep you warm?" The words were teasing, but there was an undertone of real inquiry.

[Scarlette]

Cyrah

Her original plan was to pay the stud no attention, or as little attention as possible. If he were to snare her wandering gaze, then he had a long list of requirements to meet. She did not converse with any male; heavens, no. She had better taste than that. She had a goal in mind, and it did not consist of dallying in the likes of lowly studs that had nothing to offer. She was better than such, and anyone who came in her way better realize it. Blue eyes merely glanced over to the grey stud as she ducked underneath the relative safety the tree provided from the impending storm. She shook slightly, ridding her pale golden cream coat of any excess water. Locks of her mane, which was almost a honey colored hue, clung to her slender neck. Once she was reasonably satisfied that she wouldn’t drip like a drowned rat, her pale gaze returned to the grey stud for a better examination.

It wasn’t hard to miss that he was built like her – perhaps from the same strands of horses, somewhere down their bloodline. He was slightly taller than she, which did not surprise her due to his masculine sex. A brow lifted slightly as her head tilted with the sly smile that worked across his maw. He shifted towards her, just a few steps, but she did not back away. She simply held her ground, holding his dark gaze with her pale one. She refrained herself the urge to snort at his blatant flattery, keeping a rather good poker face on – for the moment. “Odd, perhaps. But there is joy to be found in desolation,” she replied cryptically, her pale gaze darting away to gaze onto the stormy horizon briefly. Her gaze returned to him as he spoke again, the tones of real inquiry ringing true despite his teasing tone. “No, I don’t have a stallion to keep me warm. I see no use in dabbling with the likes of fools if there is nothing to gain. I can stand the chill of the night until I find the best opportunity for myself,” she replied, rather bluntly if anything, though her voice had a teasing tone to match his. Her pale gaze studied him in the lapse of silence after her words. “Do you have no mare to keep you warm? I would think such a flatterer would have at least a mare or two willing to follow him.”

{Tag: Desmond Grail
{Notes: Sorry for the wait! D:

[/size]