Simple Desires /marek

[Sauda]

The Lost River was a dangerous place to be, depending on how one entered it. You could find yourself at the perilous, choppy, deep and unpredictable part of it, where one slip could mean an untimely death, or you could find the peaceful, more shallow, and gentle side of the river, where foals could play with little fear, but of course still under constant supervision. Olallah, her hooves gently paced in a walk, was lining the gentler side of the Lost River, watching as it lapped at her heels in a playful manner. Her grey body was silken in the sunlight, deeper in colour now that she had shed all of her winter coat. She hummed along to a little rhythm she had heard as a child, absently kicking lightly at the waters’ edge. Her brown eyes, warm with trust and trained obedience, looked around, searching for a male.

Not that she was after their attention, really. Lah was after a protective home, one where she could willingly observe her Leads’ every wish and whim. Her only goal in life, and indeed the only goal she had ever been told could be achieved, was to pass on strong genetics to her children, to provide her King with worthy offspring, and to ensure their survival whilst they depended solely on her. She was a motherly girl, true, but she would not ask for children from just any wandering bachelor. She would only provide for a King, or if the case turns out to be too elusive for her, what with her plain looks and all, then she would settle with a second - in - command. She held no aspects of becoming Queen or Lady, and indeed doubted she would make a fine sub-leader anyway.

Her ears flicked about, listening to the gentle lull of the river, splashing now at her side. She had not been walking long, maybe five minutes, but already she was finding herself closer to the more perilous part of the river. Olallah let out a low nicker, wanting to hear her soft, airy voice, to see if even she could hear it over the waters’ noise. She could, barely. So she looked away, throwing out a louder whinny, a query to see if anyone followed her. Her voice was so soft, a desirable trait according to her dam, so that she would be reminded every time she used it, that she was not the one who should be asking questions. All she had to do, was what was asked of her. Nothing more, nothing less. And she was happy with this. Everyone had their place in life. Being the obedient mistress, was hers.

[Silver]

------------------ MAREK ------
Marek strolled along the edges of the wild rapids of the Lost River. His body gleamed in the summer sun, a burnished gold emblem against the brilliant green of the grasses that surrounded the watery cleft that the river cut. He was out simply for the pleasure of being out; the gorge and cave didn’t offer too much as far as beauty. He had left Lumiere for only a short while and he knew that she could care for herself while he was gone. The thought comforted him as he bent down to rip off a healthy mouthful of grass. Munching on his snack, he walked downstream where the waters calmed and cooled into a bubbling mass that trickled in places and flooded others. The banks of the river at this place were gently sloped and laden with gravelly sand that shifted under his weight. He stepped into the water and across the shallows until he was about knee-deep in the water. The coolness was refreshing for the stallion. He breathed in a great amount of the thick, muggy air that had settled over Asedenn this summer, relaxing into the heat. “For this, Acheron, I thank you,” he murmured to the sky without looking up. Marek made sure to thank his patron god, but also sent up quick thoughts to both of the deity’s sisters. It was believed that Acheron brought the storms and the horrible weather, but the King of the Anemoi knew just as well that Adrastea had a temper on her as well.

He noticed a movement of gray ahead and began to walk. If it was threatening, he would leave it be, but if it was perhaps a mare, he would approach. One thing that Marek loved to do as well as traveling the free lands was mare claiming. Any mare without the scent of a stallion on her was free to claim, and he loved the exchange before the claim. He drew closer and made out her – yes, her – frame. With a grin, he approached. “Hello, lady,” he said in his deep, rasping voice. He had his temper held down; it would be no problem at the moment.

ooc: crap. ew. yuck. but here 'tis!

[Sauda]

o l a l l a h - -

Her hooves, dark in colour, were now being overlapped with the wet of the river, soaking her ankles. Her head bent down low, forelegs spread just a little, as lips parted to drink of the clear water. She was still bent as such, taking her fill, when the male voice entered her hearing. Quickly, she looked up, and then straightened herself, blood rushing to her face as she faced the brown stranger. His stomach and sides were spattered with white, and he held himself in a proud and confident manner. Olallah flicked her ears to focus on him, thinking quickly to not keep him waiting for an answer. “Lord.” She dipped her head slightly, allowing him the respect she had been told all stallions should be awarded with. Her warm eyes continued to survey the stallion, trying to figure out whether he ruled over any land, or if he was just a bachelor happening across a girls’ path.

The latter would not be approved for. She had been told from early foalhood, that she should serve only the higher ranked males of a herd, any lesser stallion would be an inconvenience for her, and would prove her disloyalty to her upbringing. Not that this was a normal view on things, but what else could such a mare believe in, when that was all she had ever been taught? “Have I happened across a King, perhaps? Or a lonesome bachelor?” This was the only matter in which she could be direct. Defining the terms of leadership for the stallion who claimed her was important, or so she believed. In all other aspects, she was always the mare who would willingly obey every command given, and spoke in a hushed voice, and stood in the crowd, to be looked over and forgotten, until her use became apparent.

The water still grasped at her hooves and ankles, trying to reclaim her attention. But in the company of a stallion it held no such chance. She was sure someone standing this proud would be some sort of lead, a second at least, but until he answered her question, she would stand ground and refuse any further conversation or company. She would not be refused her obligations in life. Hopefully, this male would stand chance to give her a home, though. And then she would be able to start her life, and bring about strong foals for him to love and teach. But he would have to prove himself, before anything else. Such an easy task.