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` forget all about me and let me decay; ;; ivy
Topic Started: Sep 24 2013, 04:26 PM (571 Views)
`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
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"close every door to me,
hide all the world from me;
bar all the windows and shut out the light."

There is a stillness that falls over the Homeless, caressing the desolate terrain in a calm grasp that speaks of serenity. The soothing lull drapes over the land, hanging from the stars that have already begun their gradual retreat. Prime is just barely beginning to peek over the horizon, the hazy tendrils of light reaching to tickle the frosty dawn with a cool embrace. The faint light throws a pretty mist of glitter over the snow-covered ground, softly spreading the sparkling handfuls like a thin gossamer curtain, bidding the planet into a silent awakening. The terrain is still, hardly a sound interrupting the silence as the chalky snow hushes the sparse forest. Dark trees stand stark against the pristine luster of powder, their thin trunks skeletal and bare in the midst of winter’s frosty grasp, standing like gaunt guardians over this lonely continent.

Striped hooves cut neatly through this pristine patina, leaving their hollow marks as the eccentric spotted mare travels at her own steady pace. She does not walk quickly, seeming afraid to shatter the glassy stillness that has laid claim over the Homeless, her large doe eyes careful as they observe what surrounds her. There is nowhere for her to hide, as exposed and thin as the forest stands, stripped of everything in the cool breeze that dances around them. Perhaps this is for the better. Ivy has come here for one purpose, to create her own life for herself, and there is little success in that if she were to seek the shadowy comfort that she longs for. Even so, she mentally avoids the attention that her exotic coat so loudly calls to her. Fluted ears rotate backwards and her flat head lowers to level with her sloped shoulders, her body almost folding in on itself in a posture that allays the stubborn spirit that smolders deep beneath her mottled skin.

This will be the first major decision that Ivy will make for herself, considering that every miniscule detail of her life had been governed by someone else up until this point. It feels liberating for her to be able to have this control over her own life and choices, and she feels the thrill as she gradually wanders deeper into the heart of this foreign territory. Still, there is a slight apprehension that mars her exhilaration. By coming to the known lands of Kormada, she had defied everything that she had known--disobeying her parents, discarding everything that she held familiar, breaking the sacred rules--and this ignorance of the “normal” world scares her. This uncertainty can be seen in the vacancy of her eyes and in the crease in her brow, but there is an ambience of a fiery determination that is stronger. She hasn’t abandoned everything to give up now, and she won’t; as much as she’d like to embrace the understanding that she has of her former life, Ivy knows that it will lead her nowhere but along the straight solid lines that had governed everyone.

Shaking her white-frosted face and tousling her black locks around her features, the Appaloosa mare comes to a gradual halt, her head rising a few degrees. Her thoughts seem loud and chaotic in comparison to the serene stillness that characterizes this secluded land, so beautiful and quiet--almost eerie in its calmness. One of her fluted ears twitching, Ivy shifts her weight, slender hips rolling before she hesitates, rocking and coming to a decision that this will be the place that she will wait. She does so nervously, but wordlessly. Taking several deep breath through flared nostrils, her lowered eyes wander. The sky overhead is bleached with the imminence of another gentle snow, the flat horizon blending into the ground to create a vast, pallid wall behind the bare forest. Prime’s faint light tickles the earth, throwing glitter against the mare’s mottled hide as she rests.

appaloosa mare . bay blanket with spots . dark brown eyes . neutral . 16hh
I V Y
just give me a number instead of my name.
Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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TheIceViking
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Pippin
steel gray overo • neutral • icelandic x unmol horse • 15.3 hands • quicksilver x corvo • grizzly heights

» The three year old stallion dipped his head down and softly touched the surface of the frozen water with his muzzle, he could see a crooked reflection of himself underneath the ice. The steel gray overo stallion then softly poked the ice with his front hoof before he attempted to break the ice. It didn't take long the fifteen point three hand stallion long to get through the ice with his hoof. His muzzle stretched towards the water and he took few sips. It was not the cleanest water and the dirt that had settled at the bottom had now spread around the water. After few sips of the dirty water the stallion pulls his head up and glances around him. It hadn't been long since Pippin had last came here and he remembered how nervous he had been. After few minutes he had calmed a bit down, but the fear of embarrassing himself or doing something clumsy had caused him anxiety. Though now he was a tad more confident than before.

» The steel gray overo began his search for a mare who might suit him. It was on rare occasions that that stallion ever searched for a specific looking mare, he would rather just approach a mare by the way she acted. If she would act overly confident, thinking that everyone had their eyes on her he would never approach, a cocky mare was something Pippin tried to avoid. Because he was a bit shy himself he found it hard to approach mares that looked shy. Pippin was hoping once he would grow a bit older his shyness would go away, but for now he was stuck with it and it was a torture to have a conversation with a equine that was shy as well. It was always awkward.

» His brown eyes look at the surroundings, everything was covered in white snow. It reminded him of his younger sister, Cheney. The white snow was so pure and his little sister was everything to him. For a moment he regrets leaving his mother and sister behind. The first year of his life he had always felt very protective towards his mother seeing as she belonged to no herd. Though now she was living in Cold Well with her mate Florence. Pippin had nothing against Florence, but he still had to accept him into his life, though that hopefully wouldn't take long. The fifteen point three hand stallion reminds himself again why he is here, he was here to find a mare that would hopefully accept to join him and be his first mare. If he should be honest he had expected another mare to be the first one to join him, but he hadn't seen her in months.

» Out of the corner of his eyes he notices a mare that was standing on her own. A calm smile appears on his dark colored lips, she looked very peaceful. Her pelt was bay with interesting white marking on her rump and back and some white spots around her body. The steel gray had to admit that she was indeed very beautiful. His elegant yet sturdy form began to move in direction towards the mare, with a friendly look on his features. He comes to a halt, facing the mare. "Hey" he said quietly to the mare, he had completely forgot to decide what to say to her. He was not one of those stallion that could just babble on and charm the mares, he was shy and a tad clumsy. "I am Pippin" he says to the mare. "I come from Grizzly Heights" he finally forced out of his maw. "What is your name?" he asked curiously.

I have decided to stick with love.
Hate is too great a burden to bear.


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`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
"close every door to me,
hide all the world from me;
bar all the windows and shut out the light."

The powdery snow that blankets the ground seems to hush the common grounds, muting all sounds and bidding a long moment of serene stillness. Ivy stands awkwardly amidst this quiet peace, feeling very loud and boisterous with the exotic coloration of her hide that calls a wordless cry for attention. Lean muscles move beneath her mottled skin as she shifts her weight uncomfortably, and dark silky strands whisk sharply through the crisp winter air in a mute testament to her unease. It is sad to think that the Appaloosa mare is so awkward, and her stiff movements mask the fiery spirit that smolders beneath her modesty. She is not so pitiful as she would like to think. The mere fact that she is standing where she is now, alone and scared, but determined to make this choice on her own and lead her life in a new and hazy direction is sure to account for some sort of vigor.

Rolling her sloped shoulders in a long breath that is released in an odd arrangement of shaking vapor, the loudly marked maiden lowers her flat, white-frosted head. Only moments have passed since she has crested these unfamiliar borders, and already she is beginning to doubt herself. She is sure that the eccentric pattern that drapes over her slender body will catch any stallion’s eye, but it is in the fact of holding that initial interest that Ivy harbors dark hesitation. What stallion would want someone so insecure? Indeed, with her life really only just beginning, she has yet to discover herself. Before now Ivy had been sculpted and molded into someone that she was supposed to be--unordinary, plain, and the same as everyone else. Nothing special. Every detail about her identity was a shadow of something else, an identical copy of hundreds, easily forgotten.

It is only now, after she has managed to escape the clutches of that sad existence, that the Appaloosa mare truly sees what she has saved herself from. She had never quite agreed with the system that had governed every detail of everything, but at the time it had been only normal--everyone fell victim. But now she definitely realizes the monotony and dullness that she (and everyone she had known) were a part of. And it is something that she desires to leave behind her forever, growing more distant with every moment she spends on her own. Truly, she is free, despite how detached she feels from what is “normal” in the known lands of Kormada, she is now able to control her own identity. She is to become what she makes of herself.

If only her timidness wouldn’t be such a hindrance.

The stallion’s voice catches Ivy off-guard. Her large doe-like eyes meet his, startled, as her sporty figure retreats a half step in bashfulness. However, it seems as though the stallion is nearly as uncomfortable as she is, given his short and rather unpoetic introduction; the spotted mare stares at him wordlessly, perhaps a little stiff, waiting and hoping for him to continue. After a few brief moments he is able to state his name and place of residence--a territory that means little to her in terms of title, as she is unfamiliar with these continents--and eventually inquires of her name. Flaring her thin nostrils, Ivy parts her mottled lips, and her feminine voice (quiet and modest, but not completely shy) slips over her tongue, “My name is Ivy.” She pauses, unsure of what her next course of action should be; her name had been easy enough, but what now?

Hardly able to mask the discomfort that trembles beneath her muscles, the Appaloosa mare shifts her weight, her striped hooves drawing odd patterns in the fine snow as her black forelock falls like a tattered curtain over her brown eyes. Clearing her throat softly, she forces her lips to form words that intertwine gently with the cool winter air that stands between them. “Tell me about yourself, Pippin,” she doesn’t mean to sound brusque or forward, but Ivy can hardly think of what she is supposed to say or require of him, and so she settles with the general idea that is sure to lead them somewhere. After a moment she tosses her head lightly to clear her vision as her forelock settles to the side, exposing her doe eyes as she waits for Pippin to respond.

IF MY LIFE WERE IMPORTANT
I V Y
just give me a number instead of my name.
Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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TheIceViking
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Pippin
steel gray • neutral • icelandic x unmol horse • 15.3 hands • quicksilver x corvo • grizzly heights

» Pippin was never sure what the cause of his shyness was. When he was around his mother and sister it looked like he was the most outgoing stallion. He was even able to act relaxed around Florence, it had taken a while but he was getting there. When he was young it seemed like shyness wasn't something that existed but when he grew up, all the pressure was probably the cause. The pressure to start a herd, to battle, to keep the bloodline going, to keep the promises he gave to mares he offered home. It seemed to take the bravery out of him. However he was hoping, that as he grew his confidence would grow with him. It had also been rather weird to not know his own father, but Florence had done his very best to be that father figure for him, and Pippin was thankful for that.

» What Pippin had worried about the most had just happened, he had just approached a shy mare and there was no other stallion in the "conversation" to keep the topic alive. His ears prick forward when the mare speaks her name. Ivy. It was indeed a very pretty name, and suited the mare. There is a silence between them and Pippin wondered if it was his turn to speak. When he notices the mare's discomfort he can feel his growing. Pippin wondered if he should just get the hell out of this place, what mare would want to join a stallion that can hardly speak. He tries his hardest to find a new topic to talk about.

» The steel gray overo needs to restrain himself from releasing a sight of release when the mare speaks. Asking him to tell her something about himself. The almost seventeen hand stallion had been so busy celebrating that the silence between them had been broken that he almost forgot to answer the mare. A awkward look crosses his features and he glances to the ground. He thinks for a moment before raising his head and speaking the mare.

» A sweet smile is on his lips as he begins to speak. "Well ... where to start." he sad and chuckled nervously. "I grew up in Cold Well, however I spent the first year of my life traveling with my mother" he wondered if she was bored, who would want to listen to a stallion babble on about his family. "I recently claimed Grizzly Heights and hope to hold the claim over that land for a while, and currently I am the only herd member in my herd" he says and smiles awkwardly to the mare. "And yourself? Do you have anything to share?" he asks. Right after he speaks he remembers one important part. "Oh! and I am off the neutral alliance, decided to throw that in there" he mumbled his last words as he realised he might have cut off the mare. Maybe he was too nervous, perhaps he could just relax a bit then everything would go smoothly. He just had to relax.

ooc :: he wont be this nervous all the time haha, I am planning that when he is around 4 - 5 years old he will grow out of it.


I have decided to stick with love.
Hate is too great a burden to bear.


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ƒierce
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
MARTYRDON'T ASK ME TO BLEED ABOUT IT; I NEED THIS BLOOD TO SURVIVE
The uniquely-colored stallion wandered forward, the blue hues in his coat stark against the threat of snow. His bright blue eyes, set in a white face, looked about with mild disinterest. He had come here yet again to find more mares for his herd. It seemed no one was interested in a nobody son of Viral, but it wasn't like Martyr was exactly putting emphasis on his lineage. He wasn't his father or Chronic, and he wouldn't make any promises to be like them either. He was eight years-old now, in his prime as it were and quite eager to battle Orion again. The roan was sure that the bay had amassed a herd larger than his, and Martyr couldn't help but be irritated by the thought. But Martyr had not seen Orion since he had gone to the Province to seek an alliance, however uneasy that relationship was. That had been when Emerson had told him of Sapphire Moon's death.

Black ears twisted back, pinning into the jet tendrils of his mane. The Mustang Hybrid came to a stop on a low rise, Prime now warming his coat and showing off his unique pelt. His form was splashed in an overo pattern with a blue roan color. Within the mix were brown cornspots, all over the blue-gray base of his pelt. His underbelly and face both shine white, stark against the black of his points, mane and tail. But his bright blue eyes always shined, even with the contempt for an uneasy ally. The only thing he could do was keep trying, and that's what he was here to do. Martyr felt that he liked interactions in the Homeless Grounds better than Quick Claim. In the latter area, things moved almost too quickly. Not giving anyone a chance to get to know each other before shipping off for home.

With a slow huff coming from his maw in a cloud of water vapor, the Mustang stepped off in a random direction, wondering if he was going to find a mare today. He was uneasy, in the back of his mind. But the stallion only raised his white face higher, neck arching attractively as he walked to find a mare to converse with. Within the hour, the blue roan overo came upon a spotted blanket mare and a steel gray overo stallion. It seemed, to Martyr, that they were still relatively uneasy around each other, which made him believe that it was still alright to approach. He has arrived in time to catch Pippin's story, the stallion. The younger male has made it quite apparent that he was new at this. But Martyr wouldn't brandish that in front of the mare who seemed quiet and a little meek herself. He nods to either of them, coming to a halt far enough from both of the other horses not to invade personal space.

By now, there had been a few breaths between Pippin's speech and his arrival. So, Martyr took the opportunity that silence provided and spoke. "Hello I hope I'm not too late to come in." He takes a chance to smile in a friendly way at the mare and then nods respectfully to the gray. "My name is Martyr, and I come from Loon Echo Lake." It left a bitter taste on his tongue to say that he was from anywhere besides Serpent's Province, but he made no visible expression to suggest it. Bright blue eyes turned to the lovely bay maiden, and he flashed a smile and lowered his head in a slow gesture to further greet her. Raising his head back to a more normal level, Martyr opens his dark lips to speak again, directing his attention to the mare. "I'm afraid I didn't get to catch your name."
HERE'S ONE YOU DON'T COMPROMISE; LIES COME HARD IN DISGUISE
male . blue roan overo . mustang hybrid . 15.3 hands . dark . loon echo lake
ƒierce   (adj.)   ferocious; bold; intense; dauntless
if i am chaos, then you are the storm inside of me
Aura | Fatale | Harlem | Phalaenopsis
Shikari | Shtriga | Vervain | Vitae
Carnivean | Finnigan | İskender
Lir | Martyr | Sonste | Thames
28 || adoptions -- log -- mare plotting -- to do list Asylum | Flannery | Hoarfrost | Israël | Magdalena | Rivulet| Salvatore
Sears | Stheno | Tribulation | Vermillion -- ( up for adoption )
Hollow | Ristian | Sémillon -- ( potentially adoptable )
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`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
"close every door to me,
hide all the world from me;
bar all the windows and shut out the light."

One of the mare’s fluted ears twists to the side as she waits for Pippin’s response to her question, the pit of her stomach churning uneasily with the brief hesitation of silence that follows--perhaps she had been too forward? Had she offended him? Releasing a heavy breath of air through mottled nostrils, Ivy shifts her weight restlessly, her doe-like eyes luminous as her warm breath twirls in a thin vapor around her features. She begins to doubt her understanding of the designs of the Homeless grounds, possibly executing the wrong actions and words, but the steel grey stallion soon speaks, soothing her rising fears into the mere uncomfortable butterflies that flit around in her abdomen. Pippin explains in short words a summary of his life, introducing the land of his foalhood and his current place of residence (places she has never heard of and knows nothing about, considering she is foreign to these parts) and inquiring of her own interests before stumbling out his alliance.

Ivy’s dappled lips purse softly into a demure grin. It seems as though the steel grey overo is just as on edge as she is herself, and she can’t quite decide if she should find humor in the irony, or if the uneasiness that exudes from them both should fray her nerves even more. Both of them are learning from each other, neither acting as ideal teachers but perhaps both can progress together. Flicking long black tresses once against her spotted flanks, the Appaloosa replies in a meek tone, tame but not weak, “I am of the Neutral alliance as well. It seems like you have in mind a pretty stable life ahead of you, Pippin--that’s nice,” she smiles lightly, but there is a wariness that underlies her voice. Her previous home had been stable--far too stable. Ivy is not once to seek out outrageous adventures, she enjoys the security of a reliable home (likely depends on it), but she cannot stand to be caged up like she had. At last she has escaped, and the last thing she wants to do is imprison herself again.

The muted crunching of the soft earth disrupts her thoughts, and it takes her a moment before she turns her white-frosted head to see another stallion joining their conversation. For a short moment, Ivy panics inwardly. There is already a rigidness in her stance, her liquid-brown eyes fixed on the blue roan overo as her thoughts twist in chaotic patterns, knotting into a mess. The Appaloosa mare hadn’t expected another stallion to have interest in her (even if it is only her loudly marked skin that draws their eye) and the shock of feeling so alienated in these foreign parts freeze her for a moment. She is able to force a gentle smile as he somewhat apologizes for arriving too late, hoping that the simple gesture is enough to assure him that his appearance has interrupted nothing. He seems to get the hint as he introduces himself and his own unfamiliar land. “Hello, Martyr,” she says gingerly as he inclines his head in further greeting, giving her name rather bluntly, “Ivy.”

Inhaling a deep breath that trembles lightly against her throat, the sporty mare resumes her words to answer Pippin’s earlier inquiries, her gaze shifting between them, hoping that Martyr won’t get lost. “There really isn’t much about me to tell,” her lips purse momentarily as she fights the paradox that contradicts between thoughts and words, “I lived a predictable foalhood, and then finally sought the known lands of Kormada in search of building my own life; and here we are,” a slight shrug rolls across her sloped shoulders, dismissing any further details and repressing the memories that still tickle her mind like a bad itch. Ivy falls silent, her doe eyes shifting awkwardly between the two stallions and the powdery snow that caresses her striped hooves. “What of yourself, Martyr?” She glances up to the blue roan stallion timidly, “Anything interesting to share?”

IF MY LIFE WERE IMPORTANT
I V Y
just give me a number instead of my name.
Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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TheIceViking
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Pippin
steel gray overo• neutral • icelandic x unmol horse • 15.3 hands • quicksilver x corvo • grizzly heights


» His brown eyes were focused on the mare as she spoke, it brought a smile to his face to hear that she was of the same alliance as himself. The mare did not look like she resided with equines that carried darker thoughts, but he had been very depressed to hear that a mare, as beautiful as this one would reside with those who are dark. Pippin didn't want to start thinking about the possibilities to brings this mare with him back to Grizzly Heights, but he couldn't help it. They were alone, and they were having a conversation, maybe not a very active one but still a conversation. He remembered the conversations he had with Coeur. Those could be about anything between the earth and the sky, and if silence fell upon them, it was only nice, not awkward like had sometimes happened between Ivy and him. He wondered, if she would chose him, would it always be like this?

» A deep voice reaches his ears and he glances at Ivy, with a surprise (though it was not seen on his face). It took him few seconds to process what had happened, at first he had thought the mare was speaking and was shocked by the deep voice, but he then came to the realization that another stallion had joined the duo. At first Pippin felt very welcoming towards the stallion, but he could also feel how the jealousy rose. This stallion, that called himself Martyr was so confident, something that was missing in Pippin. He needed the confidence, the courage, well he had courage but not when it came to socializing with mares. The blue roan tells them (or her) what land he holds claim over, Loon Echo Lake, a territory he was not familiar with.

» After the blue roans introduction the sixteen hand mare speaks again. Telling them about herself, like Pippin had been doing earlier. He nodded when he spoke, he could not really tell but what he had heard, it appeared as if the mare was more independent and wanted to have control over her own life. She had said that her foalhood was predictable, and that she had came here to build up her own life. Pippin smiled to the mare, he really couldn't tell from these words how the mare was but he had created a certain idea in his mind, she was a mare that seemed to want to live for herself. Not in a selfish way, but more like, she wanted to be unpredictable, excitement. He remembered the excitement to live on the road with his mother, it was sometimes dangerous but he would always like to try it again.

» The mare then asks Martyr the same question as she had asked him. Pippin's gaze was now directed towards the stallion. He shook his head to get rid of the snowflakes that had settled in his mane. With the other stallion here he could feel the little confidence he had shrinking, but in a weird way it was also growing. Pippin really liked the mare, she seemed nice and if Pippin could grow out of his shyness they might be able to have a great time together, now that Martyr had joined, he would really have to step out of his comfort zone. Martyr seemed to have enough confidence, and would probably have no problem talking to Ivy, Pippin just had to do the same.


I have decided to stick with love.
Hate is too great a burden to bear.

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ƒierce
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
MARTYRDON'T ASK ME TO BLEED ABOUT IT; I NEED THIS BLOOD TO SURVIVE
Though she puts on a smile, Martyr can guess that she was nervous at having an audience of two now. He would have understood; it must be unnerving to have most of the attention on you. But she does not send him away, and Pippin seems welcoming enough. The maiden gives her name candidly: Ivy. It was a pretty name, and it matched the spots that laced and lined her feminine physique. He nods, the remains of a smile on his dark-colored lips. Martyr stands quietly, listening to the tale of her life so far. How strange it was that so much could be summed up in so few words. That could be said of all of them. She turns her attention to him, now that it is only he who has not divulged his tale. He cleared his thought, almost wondering what he would even say. "Like Pippin, I was born here in the known lands, living most of my life in the reaches of Serpent's Province." The blue roan paused, glancing to the over momentarily. Part of him wondered if the younger male had heard of the Province and the tales of dark legends who lived there, his ancestors.

His bright optics turn back to the mare, dark auds twisting forward, rustling the black mass of his mane. "I fought to reclaim the land when my father died, but another still has his hold on it." His thoughts twisted, Not for long.. He paused again, what else to tell. "I plan on returning to the Province, but, for now and since then, Loon Echo Lake has been my home." A sort of smile darts across his lips as he thinks of the Lake. Its eerie beauty and the haunting cry of the loon after which it was named. And his family. "After my father died and we lost our home, I took in many of my younger siblings. My youngest brother and sister are nearly three now.." Again, his thoughts went somewhere other than the current place and time. He thought of his mother, and, briefly, his maw wrinkled at the melancholy thoughts. If only she were alive. He looks back to his present company, part of him still wrapped in memories of his mother. "I am of the Dark alliance." He hoped not to scare Ivy off at the mention of where his allegiance lies, but he wasn't narcissistic and a bully like some Darks made themselves out to be. He didn't have to explain himself, but they both would have to accept him for who he was.
HERE'S ONE YOU DON'T COMPROMISE; LIES COME HARD IN DISGUISE
male . blue roan overo . mustang hybrid . 15.3 hands . dark . loon echo lake
ƒierce   (adj.)   ferocious; bold; intense; dauntless
if i am chaos, then you are the storm inside of me
Aura | Fatale | Harlem | Phalaenopsis
Shikari | Shtriga | Vervain | Vitae
Carnivean | Finnigan | İskender
Lir | Martyr | Sonste | Thames
28 || adoptions -- log -- mare plotting -- to do list Asylum | Flannery | Hoarfrost | Israël | Magdalena | Rivulet| Salvatore
Sears | Stheno | Tribulation | Vermillion -- ( up for adoption )
Hollow | Ristian | Sémillon -- ( potentially adoptable )
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`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
"close every door to me,
hide all the world from me;
bar all the windows and shut out the light."

Ivy doesn’t allow herself to shrink into the meek shell that she has become familiar with. There is still a modesty that lines her posture and characterizes the subtle chaos of nerves that flit around in her stomach, but she holds her ground, her muscles tensing beneath her loudly marked hide as she forces herself to stand still, refraining from shifting and pronouncing her uneasiness. She wonders if she should be surprised with how nervous she is. Whilst living in the previous lifestyle she had held, she can’t remember feeling such discomfort and agitation---but then again, she can’t really remember feeling anything other than frustration and a growing desire to escape. Ivy had been trapped, manipulated, controlled, and harassed into what she was told what was best for her. Now she is able to make that decision for herself, and while it breathes liberty into her lungs, it is a daunting thought.

How can she know that she has made the right decision? She hardly knows the two stallions that stand to court her, and yet in such a short amount of time she is expected to choose one of them to be her protector and (if all goes well) live the rest of her life with him. How can such a thing be done? Is she allowed to go back, or must she live in some sort of hell for the rest of her life should she have chosen wrong? Her long black tail flicking around her hocks, Ivy wonders if all mares go through what she is questioning now, or if they all prance into it with confidence and execute a harmless process. She grimaces inwardly, cursing her unease.

Brown ears flick forward as Martyr clears his throat and begins to speak; her large eyes focus on him, as distracted as she had become with her worrisome thoughts, she had almost forgotten her inquiry of him. Ivy assumes that there is some significance in his place of origin, with the way that he looks to Pippin, but she cannot understand. All the same, the painted blue roan continues to explain his ambition to reclaim the land of his foalhood, and with the way his voice slips from his lips and the determination in his blue eyes, she can guess that the desire is strong. Her white-frosted brow furrows slightly as she pities him with the loss of his father, his thoughts seeming to wrap around him as he continues sort of detached. However, her features shift as he declares himself of the Dark alliance.

In all honesty, Ivy is not quite sure how to react. The idea of alliances are different in the known lands than she had been accustom to, but it is not a completely new objective for her to understand---the basic prospect is the same. Even so, from the short time that she has entered the known lands, all she has heard that makes up the Dark alliance are vile, vicious things, and from what she can tell, Martyr possesses none of these vulgar characteristics. Perhaps he is not as candid as he makes himself out to be? Or the horror stories she has been told don’t encompass all those individuals? Deciding to play it safe and judge his character as their conversation continues, the spotted mare gives a slight nod of her flat head. “That is very nice of you to take in your younger siblings, Martyr, I hope that you will be successful in reclaiming your father’s land,” she emphasises what she sees as his kindly and noble attributes, hoping that she is not in the presence of one who will abuse her and bring her to the imprisonment that she had fought to escape from.

One of her fluted ears rotating to the side, the mare’s large brown eyes glance briefly towards Pippin. The steel grey stallion has fallen quiet since Martyr had approached them, and she wonders if the arrival of another stallion has caused him as much discomfort (or more) as she has felt. If so, then can she really expect someone like that to protect her should danger arise? It is very hypocritical of her to think such a thing, but Ivy cannot help but know that she needs assurance. Seeking to draw him out of his shell, and feeling very out-of-body as she does so, the spotted brown mare widens her attention to both stallions. “What do you expect of me, should I choose to return with you?” Her timid voice betrays the intent way that she looks to both of them, her courage rising just slightly as she inquires of her own life. As modest as she is, Ivy is determined to find the fulfillment that her self-liberation was meant to build.

IF MY LIFE WERE IMPORTANT
I V Y
just give me a number instead of my name.
Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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TheIceViking
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Pippin
steel gray overo• neutral • icelandic x unmol horse • 15.3 hands • quicksilver x corvo • grizzly heights

» The young male listened as Martyr spoke, where he mentioned that he had spent most of his life in Serpent's Province. Pippin felt it when the blue roan glanced at him. For a moment Pippin was unsure what the glance was for, but then has he thought about it, the name Serpent's Province triggered a faint memory, however he could not completely remember. Pippin goes back to focusing on the mare and what the stallion had to say. Most of his attention was on the mare but he also listened carefully to how Martyr spoke, it might help him in the future, to learn from the actions of older stallions. The blue roan seemed to be a very nice stallion, offering his younger siblings a home, it was something Pippin would do if he had to. The steel gray was quite shocked when he heard that stallion's words ... he was of the dark alliance? Never would Pippin guess it, not from what he had seen of the stallion so far. Right at that moment the stallions opinion on the stallion changed. He wasn't sure what it was, maybe it was just the stories he had heard about the dark alliance.

» The mare starts speaking and Pippin's gaze is directed at her. Her question sounded quite, odd to Pippin. What did he expect of her ... it sounded to him like what was the usage of her for him. Pippin thought for a bit, well he did expect his mares to be respectful, helpful when needed and be a part of the herd. A soft and calm smile spread over his lips as he began to speak. "The few things I expect of my mares are to be respectful, helpful and just be a part of the herd" he said to the mare. "It would also be nice to have a good company" he said to the mare. Pippin was aware that he might be totally blowing this encounter ... but he was still young and inexperienced, so should the mare decide to go with Martyr who appeared to be experienced, he would not allow himself to get to sad over it, however he was very fond of the pretty mare.

(this is so crappy, i am so sorry x.x)

I have decided to stick with love.
Hate is too great a burden to bear.



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Pearl • Durin • Izabella
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ƒierce
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
MARTYRDON'T ASK ME TO BLEED ABOUT IT; I NEED THIS BLOOD TO SURVIVE
The bay blanket mare speaks to him, her voice fully rousing the blue roan from his thoughts. He nods to her; a small smile of thanks on his dark lips as Martyr nods to her. This was silent gratitude; he had already spoken so much already. The handsome Mustang watches Ivy's eyes go to Pippin for a moment, and he wondered what she thought of the gray stallion. Ivy speaks, asking a question intended for both of them. And, for once, Martyr was glad he had arrived later than the gray male before him. This would give him time to think. The overo allows his ears to swivel back into his mane as he focused on how to answer. Pippin managed to bring up some excellent points though, and Martyr, had he really wanted to, would have given him props for it. Once Pippin finished, Martyr allowed for a few breaths to pass between the three of them before he chimed in. Ivy had to be given time to think about the other male's response. "I would hope for loyalty from you, should you choose me. Not necessarily unwavering, but a respectful enough loyalty that you will trust in my judgement. I would hope for acceptance and patience from you, as well as willingness to help me and your herd mates. I would rather have a few trusted companions in my quest rather than many bickering girls fighting for attention. The overo turns to look directly at Ivy, almost as if issuing her a challenge. The world that he was trying to enter needed mares with guts. And he hoped that she had enough to trust him now and in the future. "I would hope that you are brazen enough to pursue what you want, because I will only do the same."
HERE'S ONE YOU DON'T COMPROMISE; LIES COME HARD IN DISGUISE
male . blue roan overo . mustang hybrid . 15.3 hands . dark . loon echo lake
ƒierce   (adj.)   ferocious; bold; intense; dauntless
if i am chaos, then you are the storm inside of me
Aura | Fatale | Harlem | Phalaenopsis
Shikari | Shtriga | Vervain | Vitae
Carnivean | Finnigan | İskender
Lir | Martyr | Sonste | Thames
28 || adoptions -- log -- mare plotting -- to do list Asylum | Flannery | Hoarfrost | Israël | Magdalena | Rivulet| Salvatore
Sears | Stheno | Tribulation | Vermillion -- ( up for adoption )
Hollow | Ristian | Sémillon -- ( potentially adoptable )
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`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
Thank you both for replying<3
However, I've decided that I am going to postpone choosing a home for Ivy and play around with her a little bit more before having her settle down. Just play it as though she thanked them both for their time and then skirted quietly away because she wasn't ready or something.

I love both of your boys, and she will be back in the future if you're still interested!


Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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