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For once in my life I could be; living under the sun and stars // Newt // Open
Topic Started: Oct 3 2014, 12:34 AM (276 Views)
Cataclysm
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NEWT
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living under the sun and stars //mare//light


She had finally travelled all this way, miles and miles too become the subject of a stallions attention. It wasn't what she wanted per say, but it was what she needed if she was going to survive. Newt sighed into the chilled winter air, hot breath billowing out around her. Her ink black coat was stark in contrast too the fluffy white background, making her feel vulnerable, and the centre of attention. Newt skirted around the back of some large willows, doing her best to appear nonchalant. She saw some other mares in the grounds, and walked further away from them. Keeping to herself was an integral part of her personality, and the thought of speaking to a stallion, especially one from another land, was somewhat nerve racking. Her deep brown eyes scanned the area drinking in the atmosphere. It wasn't crowded, but there were just enough mares too conceal her enough that a passer by might overlook her for a prettier girl. Newt did not think she was ugly, but she was different. Her bald white face stood out in contrast too her black coat, and the pinkish muzzle and eye area was prone to burning. Her ears, were turned inwards at the tips as was typical of her breed. She was tall and lean from being starved for so long. No, she was not ugly. Newt was just somewhat different. Her ears pricked forward, and she re-adjusted her weight too her hind leg. Her head drooped, she nuzzled the snow for food; eating the light brown stalks underneath. A light dusting of snow began to cover her hide, and Newt resigned herself too waiting; not for the love of her life, but for a safe haven. Pulling her head up, she looked into the falling snow, apprehensive of the future to come.
Newt ;; living under the sun and stars // Mare // Light
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FearlessWings
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Brindled hide stood out in stark contrast to the snow
the dusted over the landscape near and in the common
ground. Ice-blue eyes stood out within the deep browns
and blacks of this beautiful hide, looking around with
hopeful but reserved ease. He had claimed a land, then
gave it up to try and go with another stallion as Beta,
however it didn't work out. Therefore, he claimed a new
land, one that was lush and on the western side of the
continent he now called home.

The white landscaping hurt his sensitive eyes, but he kept
them peeled anyway. Which seemed to prove a good idea,
for he spotted a black mare with a bald face. Adjusting his
gait, he turned slightly to go over to her, his feet a muted
thudding on the soft snow. He was completely silent. As he
drew closer, the paleness to her coat he noticed earlier was
from the snow that was peppered over her hide. Despite the
fluffy downy look she had as was custom of the cold season,
she looked too thin to be counted as totally healthy, but she
seemed alright in any case.

He cleared his throat softly as he came around. She was eating
on some grass that was soggy and brown from the season
temperatures. It was completely dormant, but would provide
a little sustenance anyway. Her ears were curved, he was
surprised to find; he hadn't seen much of her breed. He had
actually seen a mare very similar to her on his journey here
in the Gathering, but that one was cruel, rugged and tough
just by first glance; he stayed well away from her. Perhaps
Kormada was beginning to get in some more new blood besides
himself and this black mare to his side.

When he was sure she would have looked to him by now, he
spoke softly, with a rough smoky voice. "We stick out like
a sore in this white environment, do we not?.... My name is
Jynx. Who might you be?"
His voice was light, but his face
was impassive as he coolly surveyed her. He looked every bit
the Neutral he was, but perhaps with a bit of darkness to haunt
the seams that held him together.

To any female who could appreciate color and excellent
confirmation, he was a handsome looking boy. He has a
dark brown base coats with raven black stripes over his
entire hide and legs. Since he is a Mangalara Machador,
he sports a proud prominent crest that is similar to that
of an Arabian, and most often mistake him for one, however
his build is too thick and muscular to be an Arab.
A proud, straight face with a wide set ice-blue eyes gaze
intensely but impassively from his darkened head.

While he does not smile, his face doesn't puck with a
frown or scowl, keeping his handsome face smooth
and easy to look at. He does finally offer a small
lift of his lips to express he isn't totally unapproachable.
Edited by FearlessWings, Oct 3 2014, 03:58 PM.
NiklausCorona Petrova JynxAlouette Colette SolsticeAlisanaAtaxia
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`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
OOC: I couldn't resist! xD -pets the goofball-
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A E S O N.

The frosty winter winds are about as unforgiving as these desolate borders that I find myself in. Again. I just can’t seem to stay away, can I? The thought has me huffing a short chagrined laugh, my dark eyes rolling before they narrow again, squinting against the howling flurries that fall from the flat white sky. If I just love it here so much (insert sarcasm here), then why am I here—again—you ask? Honestly, I can’t really answer that question myself. The whole idea of it puts me off; how can you expect to make a life-changing decision in a matter of moments? It’s stressful enough for me as a stallion, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for the mares!

But still, I suppose it is a little better than the alternatives. Maybe. At least real conversations take place here (or are supposed to, at least), and it is, admittedly, where the beginning of many dreams and happiness takes root. Of course, many dreams are crushed and sadness reeks here as well, but I’m not going to focus on that part. I don’t want it, after all, any part of it—I’ve had enough of the Dark ways of my family, their filthy greed and their generous immorality. The demons are all the same—the ones I have fought myself for my entire life, haunting as much as I try to avoid them. Still, I’d like to think that I am not from the same material as those like my father and so many others.

I like to keep telling myself that, anyway.

With my thin nostrils fluttering in a breathy snort, I shake my head, causing the odd pattern of my mane to wave back and forth in places before it settles again along my muscled neck. My seal bay coat is thick in preparation for winter, though it is not as harsh in my land as it is here. Being a coastal territory, the Weeping Towers is very distinct in its seasons, but neutral at the same time—there is snow on the ground right now, but it does not howl and bite at the warmth of your skin like it is doing here at this moment. I flick the length of my black tail sharply through the frigid winds. White flakes of snow have settled along the top line of my body, though the thick dark stripes of my heritage still stand out along my legs. Even in a storm—especially in a storm, it seems—I can’t hide where I come from.

Huffing another sigh that billows like smoke from my mouth, I glance to the side, where two dark figures catch my attention. My first instinct, of course, is to turn promptly in the other direction (ironic, in a place where I should be eager to approach anyone)—but just as I shift my weight, something stops me. The mare, she is different. My eyes are drawn to her ears, their curvature obvious even with this small blizzard that billows in between us. I hesitate, one black-banded foreleg extended before I make up my mind with a breezy snort, and alter my path to meet the other two equines.

As I draw closer, it becomes apparent that this mare is much taller than Dittany, but the similarities are unmistakable. Imagine that! Dittany is the only other equine I’ve come across with such curved ears, and as with all striking oddities, I am invariably drawn to them. The thought crosses my mind that the two would perhaps be good friends, but it is fleeting and I don’t ponder on it for long (no need to be presumptuous, after all, I haven’t even introduced myself). “Uh, hello,” I offer her a shadowing smile as I come to create a triangle between us, forever my awkward self, “I am Aeson.” Having caught the last part of Jynx’s introduction, I do not trouble her in asking for her name again.

I keep running into walls that I can't break down —
Let me out of this dream.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

ZEBROID HYBRID STALLION | THE WEEPING TOWERS | EIGHT YEARS OLD | SEAL BAY WITH BROWN EYES | NEUTRAL | 16HH
rowan x siason
Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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paper faces on parade;
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Cataclysm
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NEWT

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living under the sun and stars //mare//light


Newt lifted her head, and surveyed the surroundings, drinking in the atmosphere. She sniffed the air cautiously, wondering if anyone would notice her in the far reaches of these grounds. Her nostrils were assaulted with a variety of scents. Those of the other mares and stallions. She drew in another breath, and could almost taste the hope and happiness of some of the mares around her. But in amongst the confusion of smells, there was always the underlying stench of fear and despair. Some of these mares had been here a long time, or had travelled far distances to be escorted away by a stallion that; in the end did not appease there taste.

With this scent, she caught another, moving closer and closer too her. A brindled hide made its way into her vision. The stallion was handsome, too say the least. His most striking feature, perhaps, may have been his ice blue eyes. It took Newt a moment too realise, this stallion was not in fact, looking past her as he made his way in front of her. She nervously shifted from one leg to another, becoming uncomfortable from his gaze. And then he spoke. Newt was captivated by his voice. It was rough, yet wasn't enough to scare her. A reply caught in her throat and she smiled at this stallions humorous statement. Though, as Jynx finished off his introduction, another stallion was making his way towards the two. She shuffled back a few steps, giving some room too the newcomer.

His appearance was striking. His forelegs painted with bands of black ink, and his muscular appearance was somewhat reassuring too the mare. She shook some of the snow off her hide, and pricked her ears forward, assessing the physical stature of the two handsome males before her. As the newcomer stopped in front of her, she caught his name and his somewhat awkward smile. Aeson. That was this stallions name and she thought it quite fitting.

Newt kept in mind that she was not here for love, or too find a stallion that loved her. She was here too find a home, somewhere were she wouldn't have too hide, or be starved. Somewhere she would be accepted. Her curved ears flicked, and she snorted through her pinkish muzzle as she formed a reply too both stallions. "I am Newt." she said simply, nodding her head to both stallions. "Where are you fine men from? And may I ask, what... brings you here?" She continued, somewhat nervously. Her voice was not as frail as one may expect it too be. In fact, it was smooth and graceful. She was feeling somewhat pushed out of her comfort zone, although Newt realised, she had to ask these questions. It would do no good too be pushed into a stallions herd that wouldn't provide for her. Or worse.

She blew out of her nostrils, warming the air in front of her, and shook her head, clearing the dusting of snow that had formed on her face. Her doe brown eyes scanned both the stallions, cautious and waiting.
Newt ;; living under the sun and stars // Mare // Light
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ƒierce
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i've not yet begun to defile myself.
you sit there in your...heartache
The stallion wanders through the Homeless Grounds, his first time here in all reality, but the cream-colored male didn't portray that. His expression was a practiced calm, lips twisted into somewhere halfway between a soft smile and a neutral line. The cream on his pelt has darkened only slightly from birth, and his white splashes are stark against it. His physique is more fashioned after a draft build, locks thicker as a result. Satyr strolls forward, pale blue eyes wandering here and there for a mare to approach. He is new to this experience, but perhaps being himself will get him somewhere.

As he continues forward, his eyes land on a pretty mare, black with a white face and legs. He also notices the males around her. A brindled male. And a zebra-striped one. Would she even consider him with his pale plainness? Satyr tries to not let this deter him, and the smoky cream tobiano joins the group just after the maiden has given her name, greeting all of them with a nod. His pale eyes go to the black mare, offering a warm smile. "Hello. I'm Satyr." Briefly, his eyes flicker to the other stallions before continuing. "I'm here to look for a companion or at least someone to start getting to know."
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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Cataclysm
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NEWT


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living under the sun and stars //mare//light



As Newt awaits the other stallions replies, she notes a creamy, stocky stallion making his way towards the small group. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed and shy from the collective attention. She studied the newcomer. He had a draft like build, and thick mane and tail too suit. His pale hide reflecting off the fresh snow. Newt watched as he came too a halt and spared a glance at Jynx and Aeson. What would they think of this newcomer? For a fleeting moment, Newt considered the fact that one of the stallions in front of her may be a potential life partner. She shook her head, fetlock falling over her deep chocolate eyes as she pushed such ridiculous thoughts from her mind. She had to focus on surviving. The draft smiled warmly at her as he said his name. Satyr. Newt softly replied "Nice too be an acquaintance, Satyr." She said, as she met his ice blue eyes "I am here too look for a home, somewhere I can survive." She sighed, collectively gathering her thoughts before waiting for the others too continue.
Newt ;; living under the sun and stars // Mare // Light
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FearlessWings
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ooc;; Hey Cataclysm, welcome to Kormada! A little note for the future, we normally post then wait for everyone else to put up theirs, so we each have a turn once for the cycle of posters (if there are several, like there are here). So then after Fierce went, the cycle would have gone me, Depp, then back to you for your turn. It keeps things a little easier for us to get replies back in a timely manner :)


JYNX
It does not take long for the two are accompanied
by another horse, his presence known by a distant
snort. His handsome head turns to catch a glimpse
of the other stallion. His eyes flicker to the mare and
he gives her a small wink. He makes it clear he doesn't
mind waiting for him before making more introductions.
Aeson, the also-striped stallion, came up to them. He
seemed almost bashful. Jynx liked him instantly; at least
he wasn't arrogant and rude like some around here.

Jynx gave a polite nod his way. They could almost be
related with their striping patterns so very similar,
except Jynx had blue-roan-semi-spotted splashes
over his face and down his legs. His base coat wasn't
a solid brown, either, it was mottled with lighter browns
behind the inky black stripes.

Like the others, Jynx shook his frame, ridding himself
of the snow that had gathered on it. At the dark mare's
words- Newt- he gathered his lungs to reply. "I am here
looking for companionship.. I've a new lustrous land with
no mares to share it with. I thought coming here would be
a decent start, at least."
His fading voice was accompanied
by a small nonchalant rolling of his shoulders as if in a shrug-
equine style.

Looking at her, he was glad he picked the land he did; she was
thin and looked like she needed more nourishment. If he was
lucky enough to go home with her in tow, they would get her
looking filled out and healthy. His newly claimed land would
certainly provide. He cut thoughts from such wishful thinking.
Aeson had the scent of other females- whether by passing or
if they were in his lands. Jynx was jealous- Aeson probably
had company to go home to. Jynx had naught but his land.

Still, he didn't hate the other for it. He knew he would have it
one of these days. Before much else could be said, another
stallion joined them. Jynx fixed a wayward smile on his lips.
My, I just may walk out of here empty-hooved! he thought
to himself. Oh well.

The pale male, Satyr, was also semi-friendly. Jynx also nodded
and murmured his name once more. When the female spoke
out once more, he turned his attention toward her. His
smoky voice sang out. While nobody else was speaking, he
would try to get a word in and hopefully some advantage.
"I live in West Dale, newly claimed. No other has owned
It before-no stale scents or anything. Even with the winter
Here, it is still a beautiful landscape with plenty of grass
Underneath, ready for next year’s growth to get up. There
Are even some cool season grasses near the base of the mountain
That is doing well and the mountain itself has numerous
Caves for shelter. This is the first time I have left them
Since the start of winter. The ocean cuts under a good
Portion of the land, but it is obvious where it caves in and
We are in no danger. It is a wonderful land, really, and
Needs more horses in to become home.”


One could tell Jynx was proud of his new land, even
Though it wasn’t just a large part of his nature. Every
Word spoken was kind and genuine. He was becoming
Excited about the prospect of beginning anew. Perhaps
Newt, this lovely exotic maiden, would join him.
NiklausCorona Petrova JynxAlouette Colette SolsticeAlisanaAtaxia
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`d e p p
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I think everybody's nuts.
OOC: First of all, I apologize that it's taken me a bit to reply, I've been out of town! Also, I believe it would be Sen's turn now P:
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A E S O N.

The black mare and brindled stallion seem to welcome me well enough, though I can’t help but harbor suspicions—this is the Homeless, after all. It is every stallion’s top priority here to court mares, not gain friends. Perhaps I am too accustomed to the not-so-cordial ways of my heritage, and I soon shrug the suspicions away, or at least mask them for now, not having any evidence yet of any ill will from Jynx. Flicking the length of my dark tail, my attention is largely focused on the Marwari, who soon introduces herself as Newt. A flickering smile shadows my lips for a moment—Newt, it is a different name, perhaps suiting, and rather cute if I would ever admit—but I soon purse my lips to keep from being too goofy looking.

Newt continues, inquiring of our homelands and our intentions. She is noticeably nervous (understandably so, who wouldn’t be? I’m even a bit anxious myself!), but not too flighty or fearful it seems. Her voice is strong in contrast to her willowy figure, confident without being commanding, and fairly elegant. It is now when I decide that I quite like her. She is very pretty—exotic, even; had I not known Dittany prior to this, I likely would be astounded by the shape of her curved ears (I imagine Dittany’s…shock?...when seeing a “similar face,” and narrowly refrain from chuckling to myself).

Breathing out a heavy exhale through my nostrils, I cast a quick glance to Jynx, expecting him to speak first—no need to lose my manners completely—though the crunching sound of hoof falls in the white snow catches my attention. A pale draft stallion joins our small gathering, and I shuffle my weight a little to make room for him, and to not over-crowd Newt (I can imagine the company of so many suitors would probably be overwhelming…at least for me. If I were a mare, that is. Which I’m not…obviously). The cream-colored stallion announces himself as Satyr, and I give him the slightest stiff inclination of my head and murmur my name in return. One of my ears flicks quickly to Newt as she welcomes him, my eyes soon following and resting on her pale face.

It is Jynx’s turn next, who seems very excited and gives a wordy description of his land. He must be rather young, I conclude. I’d like to think that I used to have such vibrancy at one point in my life, but I don’t remember it. Having never known my mother and being raised in the darkness of my father’s shadow, I hadn’t had the happiest of foalhoods—most of my youth had been spent alone (which would explain my…awkwardness). I try and tell myself that I’m making up for it all now, that I’m trying. But, who knows. I don’t particularly like to dwell on the past, but it always seems to jump out of the memories and come back to haunt me.

Repressing a sigh and shaking my head and neck to release the snow that had settled there, I notice perhaps a moment too late that it is my turn to speak. “Oh, uhm,” I mumble and clear my throat stiffly, giving Newt a short apologetic smile, “I must admit that my intentions are no more outstanding than the others’—the search for companionship has brought me here.” A glimpse of pain flashes for the briefest moment through my eyes, remembering the two dear mares that I have lost. I still blame myself, even though I know that their deaths aren’t my fault—but I was their stallion, their protector. I can’t help but wonder if there was more I could have done for them.

Forcibly pushing away the heavy sadness of their losses away for a moment, I continue, my brown eyes steadily resting on the pretty Marwari. “My land is The Weeping Towers, in the Offland. It is a very beautiful and very plentiful land—you would not want for food or drink there, nor would I trade it for any other territory,” if she is from Kormada, then Newt would likely have heard of the Towers—its hallowed borders are a coveted thing among many, and I find myself casting a quick, nearly defensive glance to each stallion. Its beauty is truly above anything I have ever seen, and I find it all far too sacred to cheapen with lengthy words. Newt would recognize its purity well enough, should she ever see my homeland.

I keep running into walls that I can't break down —
Let me out of this dream.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

ZEBROID HYBRID STALLION | THE WEEPING TOWERS | EIGHT YEARS OLD | SEAL BAY WITH BROWN EYES | NEUTRAL | 16HH
rowan x siason
Remember...if you feel glum, just shake your bum!
#EpicStrut

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paper faces on parade;
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