[w]atch your step

[Dementia]

ooc;; I'm in love with Dementia. Just hope my muse can hold up. -yawns- Well, i'm off to bed, soon anyway.


The sound of his footsteps reverberated in his ears, the sensation of the rain against his pelt lulled him into a near meditative state as he moved with careful steps, head bowed, forelock sopping wet against his forehead. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, and though the instinct to flee was there Dementia felt no fear. The storm was one that gave gentle rains, the sort that sent you to sleep, and the thunder was like the soft footfalls of a horses steps. He paused, dark eyes seeking out his own black hoofs before he sighed. What odd thoughts he had. And the lightning, the one thing that gave the slightest spark of fear? It lay hidden within the clouds, with bright flashes coming from its dance within the storm, the beauty of nature. And that gave Dementia some reassurance. Though the storm seemed to be a killer, it was a life-bringing thing, unlike most, and it’s being there would only bring lushness to the earth, nothing more and nothing less.

His pelt seemed to be the darkest of bronzes in the near blackness of the storm and his onyx mane and tail seemed to fade into the shadows. But he was as solid as ever, no matter how much Dementia may have wanted to fade away like some lost apparition. He was real, still alive and roaming this earth. A sigh fluttered up from his gullet, nostrils flaring, eyes dimming. Always with the poetic angst, he was, but for someone so lost in his own little world he was happy. Content. The scent of the storm, the rain falling against his masculine form, and the sight of the world around him gave him comfort as it always did.

High grasses swayed against his now stationary form and he could scarcely hear the sound of water trickling across the earth. He realized, if the storm continued on for too long, there may very well be a flood but, since he was fully aware of this, Dementia believed he would be ready to flee if necessary. His legs had yet to fail him yet, after all. He blinked and curled inward on himself, muscular neck arching, lean front limbs shifting and soaking wet tail whipping against his haunches (the sting felt good…). He sighed once more, but with it a soft smile bloomed on his lips.

Blissful, undisturbed, utter peace.

[tahaji]

High top knoll gave renaissance perfect awning over the entire scene before her. Large orbs caressing a brawny Landscape, the mare watched with a sinister intent, earths narrowed between lids of fractured distress. The sting of a after winter storm brought near freezing rain down upon a dry winter ground, though rain bothered her not. It had not been long since her last encounter with a vast number of horses; Indeed, Tori had become quite comfortable there, within the comfort of a family.

The mare could not help but smile while she blocked to steady against the rough keyed wind. It picked up fractions of heavy coiffure to whip it against the grainient’s cool winds, Causing an array of water to fall with a depressing clash to the gorund. The nip of winter was slowly fading, although her breath came in short, sweet puffs of ghostly air. Nare’s would flare at the scents the messenger carried with an unintended vigor. A flash of lightning would reverberate his appearance clearly to her, although it still was vague and disintent. Chirping with a light quiff, Tori Craned her neck to creep an ever closer look.

“ A Stallion with the cunning inability to match fates only brushstroke. Why paint me here? Why lace my threads with the likings of those before me?”

It was barely audible, Tori’s vocal to the fates. But there nonetheless. Giving an irritated flick of raven bled tail sending a sting against the equines left haunch, her maw pursed into a uncomfortable grimace. What would this land, like so many of the ones before have to offer?
“ I will wait, Watch, and wonder. I will keep my distance as the lone, intolerable beast that I am.”
Suddenly, a large gust of Wind rocketed forward, sending Tori’s scent flying towards the blundering group. She closed her eyes in aggravation

“Fates, you Vex me so”

Tori hastened a back hoof, and awaited for him to notice the others arrival.

[Dementia]

Scents, sights, and sensations washed over him and for a moment he was lost in the epiphany of Mother Nature’s wrath, no matter how subdued. But then reality came crashing down upon him and Dementia could only blink as he realized he was not alone. Anti-social habits so strong die hard, and Dementia could just barely resist leaving before the other chose to approach and so did the exact opposite, once again pushing himself as he always did. He turned, gracefully and with ease, towards the source of the clear equine scent, though subdued within the rain-washed earth. Not yet did he approach, instead he gazed upon the equine with a solemnity, awaiting his or her next move.

Though he hid it well, Dementia felt a twinge of annoyance at the other’s sudden appearance. Had he had a choice, he would have chosen to once more lose himself within the black recesses of his mind, but alas he had to face reality sooner or later. After moments of silence between the two, Dementia gave the slightest show of acknowledgement; lifting his head in a sharp nod, watching the other with near black eyes.

Inside, his annoyance was growing, but he controlled it. Years ago, in his early years of adult-hood he may have charged or fled to seek sanctuary, but for once all he felt was annoyance for being disturbed. It truly was nothing compared to any past reaction he may have had, though when he decided he didn’t care about self-control he could be just as bad, but Dementia had learned he’d rather live with himself knowing he was better than what he had been than reverting to that monster of a horse. Or maybe he was exaggerating, blowing what he had been out of proportions, but either way what he thought of was at least partially true. Mentally shaking himself, he gazed quietly at the equine, nostrils flaring in a snort.

‘I’d rather you approach before the storm has passed…’


ooc;; Done. And that last line is his thoughts, not speech, just so you know. XD;

[tahaji]

The fallen ashes of a grant storm protruded upon locks of heavy ebony. Puce muzzle upturned at such an abrupt turnaround in physical energy. She looked down, eyes black as a raven sky boring towards the stallion whose fractal movements seemed drone like. Tounge slipping over parted lips, Tori would not want a direputed aurguementative, but then again, to life is to learn.

Audits flipping back and forth, flicking waters upon a busy fore, the equine would set back leg down with a hard thrust. Mud splashed onto her underbelly while the rain stung wide eyes causing them to tear slightly. Mane fell heavy onto an arched crest, but tori flared nostrils and pushed nose forward.

“ Don’t tempt me” She whispered, casting a hateful glare to the sky.

Suddenly tori did something a bit unnatural.

She backed a few steps, then disappeared over the Knolls edge.

But she was far from gone.

[Dementia]

Dark eyes; lost and unforgiving gazed impatiently at the form of the other equine. He was quickly growing tiresome, but then as the horse stepped back and disappeared he was left curious. Had the other simply left, or what he (she?) waiting and watching…? Dementia suddenly felt he had to know and he forgot his dreams, lost and fading already, stepping forward with a musical, lilting gait. His head bobbed in tune with each movement, his ears flicked and pinned back against his sloping cranium as rain continued to pelt his form. But the bothersome feeling was still better than the pressure or emptiness before a storm, for right now the world felt alive.

[incomplete]