// LOST GOLD

[// KULTA]

<sub>MARE the color of the sun strode easily into the claiming lands,

long tresses flowed out behind her. Coming to an easy stop she

studied the topography surrounding her, the inhabitants of other

equines was subtle, but she could tell that other equines

frequented this area. Not one to call out and draw attention to

herself, because she could never know if that attention was of

the good sorts or the bad, she was content to graze on the fresh

grass. Spring was showing its self in the colorful flora and fresh

sprouts, slowly emerging from the soft brown loam. Lowering

her crown she lipped at the fresh grass, the emerald blades

were normally welcome, for throughout her travels she knew

how important it was to stay healthy.


BUT a nervous knot had tied itself in her stomach unwilling to

loosen; she knew that her future was going to be determined

here. If someone came, she told herself. Throughout her travels

many had commented on her golden coat, but she doubted it

would draw extra attention to herself. With barely any vanity in

her, long nights alone stuck in the rain had cleansed her of

thinking herself beautiful or better then anyone else for that

matter.</sub>

[rather museless right now, and not very good at starting posts...]

[xavier.]

xavier.

Blood stained stag trod apon the worn ground, his talons sending dust up into the deep azul sky. Auditives caught the sounds of spring, leaves rustling, the birds singing, twas all quiet picturesque. He was mildly out of place though, in this haream so filled with equines. Xavier was more of a loner, happier with others that he trusted, not strangers. The cool zephyr picked up his silken threads, making them dance apon his boa, tickling his russet pelt. The tinyest of smiles played apon his velveteen mug, and his iron pillars carried his strong, young frame forth, his banner dancing along his rump as he moved it from side to side. His auditives flicked forward apon his nearing, dust onyx pools spotting a femme of golden hue. She was beautiful, with banner and threads like seafoam. A slight nicker went out to her as he drew closer, coming to rest a few feet from her waiting form.

His russet brainpan came down in a respectful dip to her. His banner lashed out at his back pillers, and he stepped forward lightly, a soft snort edmitting from his nares. A smile streached across his mug, and he looked at her through dusty onyx pools, a sparkle deep in their dark depths. He smiled gently, his auditives flicking forth apon his mohagany poll. He wickered gently, his velveteen mug opening, smooth, kind lyrics edmitting from them.

"Lo, I be Xavier. Might I be blessed with the knowlegde of your calling?"

The zephyr tickled his silekn threads, making them dance apon his boa. Dark onyx orbs flicked away from her for a moment, to their surroundings, watching the azul sky. His attention flicked back to the golden femme. She seemed intelligent, not one to butt into the middle of thing, but she seemed kind aswell. A smile flicked across his mohagony features, and his auditves moved aon his poll, awaiting her answer.

[~♥Dakota♥~]

He softly padded along, his daggers leaving a soft imprint where it had collided with the earth. His eyes were oddly colored. One was a aqua whirlpool of blue, the other a clover green. His banner swished behind him like a flag, waving for all to see. He didn't care much for looks. His pelt was groomed though. Once he got a fae, he could claim a terrance, and create the herd. He was planning on having a wonderful herd with lots of flickas. Each would be treated the same. Positions were just titles to him. To some, it was a way of life.

Dakota was new here, and wasn't so sure about the ways of wild horses. He had always wandered, but he thought that he had at last found a home. He was always looking for fun, and once you go to know him, he was the best friend you'd ever have. He would protect his family, and risk his life for innocent equines. He was a good stag, and acted like one. He knew he was not perfect, for no creature on the earth is perfect except God.

As his auds pricked, and his nares flared, his pace quickened. He heard an equine. He smelt a fae. Together, they make a female horse. He trotted faster, trying to reach her. He finally aproached, and dipped his nape, asking permission to step closer. He meant no harm, and his actions showed it.
'Lo, m'dear. I be Dakota. Would you like to share your calling?
His voice was soft, and his orbs were calm.

[/font]

[// KULTA]

<sub>A CASUAL glance towards

the horizon showed the approach of a flame hued stag. Raising

her crown daintily she watched his approach with interest. His

strides were sure and she guessed that he had been to this

place many times before. His soft nicker reached her audits and

she replied in kind, emitting a soft nicker. It was a casual

greeting and for that she was glad, she was not one for

pompous equines and immaculate manners. When ever she

ended up around them she always felt as if she was walking on

glass, she never stayed long with pompous equines. Still though

she decided she ought to show the stag some respect so she

dipped her crown slightly when he came to a halt.


RAISING her crown she studied his features quietly, he had a

blaze down his face and it was in stark contrast with the rest of

his flame hued body. A smile had alighted on his features, an

infectious smile at that, and she could not help but smile softly

back. Her own smile was a shy smile, but a smile none the less.

Listening to his auds her bright eyes watching him, the bright

flames of knowledge glowing brightly, as his lyrics were emitted

from his velvets and absorbed by her auds. With little thought

about her answer, for she was one to normally think a little

before speaking rashly, she replied with a reply she had used

many times before, ”Lo Xavier, I am Kulta.” When ever

she had met another equine on her travels she had always

replied rather impersonally, she found that if she replied to kindly

they would inquire as to her past. A past she would rather not

be forced to relive, or even retell.


ONCE her lyrics were out and her thoughts silent, another equine

approached. Turning her crown so that she could get a better

look at him, she watched the black and white stag as he came to

a halt. Nickering softly she let him now it was okay to approach,

she dipped her crown just as she had done to Xavier to the new

comer. As she did she caught site of his different colored eyes,

her own mocha eyes studied his calmly for a moment then turned

to the rest of his features. They were kind features she could

tell, and she liked that about him, but then Xavier had kind

features as well. Auds turned to him as he spoke and she

replied the same as she had Xavier, making sure she showed

neither more favor then the other. ”Lo Dakota, I am Kulta.”


NOW she would wait for one of them to reply, for in the next few

minutes she would probably chose between one of them, unless

another came. When the moment of truth would come she

would tell whom she favored more, but it would not do she knew

to led them both on by showing to much favor either way.

Around her she could hear the soft sounds of birds chirping and

she could even hear a solo cricket singing its lonely song. The

grass rubbed against each other making background noise, the

whole ambience of the place was calm and peaceful.</sub>

[xavier.]

xavier.

A gentle smile rested on his features as she adressed him. She had a rather nice calling, Kulta. Auds flicked forth, her lyrics and the footsteps of another flooding them, brainpan turned, dust onyx pools glancing to his right, where agian the familar stag Dakota came to rest beside him. He was becoming slowly familar, and Xavier this time had a slightl smile for him, along with a dip of his mohagony dream box. His attention turned to the golden femme, and she smiled gently at her, his dusty onyx pools shirting down to the ground, his weight shifting from one pair of pillars to the other. A light breaze swept across the lands, realving them of the heat that the sun bore down on them. It tickled his banner, which he was moving from side ot side as well, blood suckers getting rather annoying.

Strong bodic glistened lightly in the sun, sweat forming on some places. He had trod these lands before, but never really claiming anyone to his liking, atleast not yet. He was waiting on a few. Auditives flicked forth apon his majestic poll, and his dreampan lowered lightly to wither height, relaxing slightly. Nobody liked uptight and nervous equines, so he just let his butterflies go, so that he could talk freely. Banner swished at his pillars lightly, the sting of the flick sending spasms through his nerve endings. One pillar came down slightly, and he let it scathe the ground gently, his dusty onyx pools watching the golden femme. Mug opened, velveteens edmitting kind words.

"Tis a pleasure to meet you. I welcome you to these lands. I wish you happiness here. Please, is there any questions you'd wish to ask, or anything you wish us to know?"

Brawn crest came down in a respectful dip once more. Auditves flicked forth, awaiting her soft vocals, his onyx pools alight with interest.

[~♥Dakota♥~]

As she lowered her dial, Dakota politely stepped forward. His orbs showed no hatred toward Xavier, though he could tell that he didn't care for him. Horses would be horses. Right? Dakota softly watched both of them. As Xavier spoke, Dakota nodded his nape gently.

He didn't have a fae, so therefor, he didn't have a home. But once he got a flicka, he could claim a land and then reinforce the herd, making it grow. But he still had to get the first fae. That was step numero uno. His odd orbs shone brightly. The day was indeed hot, and the sticky sweat made both stags' pelts look even more handsome.

He didn't speak yet, for Xavier had already done the talking. There wasn't much left to add. His banner flicked again at a pesky fly. Flies were so annoying. They had no purpose but to annoy creatures. Well, they did do some things, but they weren't that important.

[/font]

[Requiem]

Today was a nice day. The sun shone, though every now and then a fluffy white cloud drifted in front of it, so shadows darkened the lands. Still, after only a few seconds the golden element in the sky was visible again, and the shadows were chased away. The sky itself was visible, for there weren’t that many clouds at all. And if you would look very carefully, and were the proud owner of a little bit imagination, you would deifnitely see some shapes in those same clouds. A flying dog. An oddly shaped bird. A rabbit with its long ears flat against his back; very long ears. To pretty much generalize the whole day; it was the stereotypical perfect day for the stereotypical light.

Requiem though, was everything but a stereotypical light. He had learned much about the so called alliances while he had travelled different lands. Since he had gone from a tame colt, to a wild stallion. He had had to learn a lot in order to survive without a nice warm stable in winter. Without the buckets of water humans had always brought him. He had learned. By listening to others’ conversations, seeing as they never talked to him, the pure blood andalusian that so did not belong in the wild. The conclusion he had come to by listening from behind trees: lights were jolly good fellows, neutrals just couldn’t decide, and darks were the villains.

Requiem didn’t really fit into any of these categories. Yet apparently, these alliances were part of life in the wild, under mother nature’s care. His problem wasn’t that he couldn’t decide. He wasn’t dark. He had never known why, but one thing was sure : he was not a dark. He also wasn’t balanced enough to be a neutral. Yet he didn’t smile all the time either. He could be pissed off, he could be angered. He had his days, when others better not come near. He could even get violent. Those were all typical dark characteristics, and still Requiem had chosen to call himself a light. Because he had accepted those facts, and lived in peace with them.

Right now, he had stopped travelling. For a while already, actually. This morning, he had gone for a stroll. But he would not cross the borderlines of these lands. He, unconsciously, advanced to wherever his hooves would bring him. And that was the claiming mountain. He had been here a few times, yet never with the intention to claim a mare. Claim, it was such a strange word. As if you owned the mare who had decided to join you to your land. He had talked to mares, and one time, a frightened, but such a sweet one, had come with him. Never with the intention to stay, but she had stayed. He hadn’t seen her in a few days though. He needed to talk again, even though he wasn’t that much of a talker.

Dark brown, almost black visionairies looked around, showing no expression when seeing all the equines. Almost magically, his gaze got drawn to a lone femmora of a golden hue, her tresses amost white like the wings of an angel. Yeah, odd thoughts. The baron shook his heavy skull so as to rid it from these thoughts, that definitely did not beling there. She seemed to be taller than him, and though her figure wasn’t fragile, but strong, it wasn’t baroque like the male’s. She was contently grazing, but she could not possible be here to just graze. Why not talk to her?

Requiem started to move forwards, though he had crossed half of the distance he needed to cross, when a fiery tainted brujo stood before her, all of a sudden. He should pay more attention, Requiem. He had not seen him approach the mare. The grey stallion stopped. Why where they all so beautiful? He himself may have a noble built, yet that was it. His pelt wasn’t shiny like theirs. To some, he may even look like a pinto. Dirt stains were everywhere, stains that would never go away. They were dirty yellow, and there was one big dirty spot on his butt. It was old dirt; dirt that, once it had had the chance to settle down in the male’s pelt, would never leave, ever again. His pelt was soft, though. Just the colour... yellow and white. His manes, and banner, weren’t perfect either. They were long, and thin, and a bit shaggy.

By now, a second stag had approached. A black and white one. A real pinto. Both had dipped their skulls in respect to the naiad. That was good. But he was still standing there. Staring at the three like a fool. His auditives pricked forth at the sounds of little birds, chirping. Birds, were one of Requiem’s favourite animals. They could add to natural silence. It was odd, but it was true, in the mascu’s eyes. He could want to be alone, in absolute silence, yet the songs of petite birds would never disturb. Birds, worms, and rabbit. Little creatures whose presence he would never mind.

[// KULTA]

<sub>THE sun shone happily on the three equines, bringing out the

tones in their bright coats. It was easy to tell that they all

followed the light for their manes were not miskept and crimson

liquids did not mar their flints and legs. Their was no wildness in

their eyes nor a lust for blood, they all liked to smell the daisies,

they did not want to crush them beneath their hooves and grind

them into dust. The day reflected their thinking and for this Kulta

was glad, it meant that not to many darks would be out

wandering though she doubted any would chose to molest her in

the claiming lands, though it was possible. Thoughts were pulled

back to the two stags standing before her when Xavier spoke.

Auds turned intently towards him catching the syllables that

escaped from his kissers. She noted the formality of his words

and then the added dip of his crown when he was finished.


THINKING over the stags words she decided she might as well

turn the question away from herself, for her own past was not

something she wanted to dig up, at this moment or anytime in

the near future. Even though it had been years since the most

traumatic events of it, the scar was still there and it had chosen

to heal slowly. ”Is there anything you think I ought to know

about you?” Her question was addressed to both stags,

because even though the question had been addressed to only

her, Xavier had seemingly spoken for both stags. If Dakota had

meant to put in his two cents she expected he would have.


GLANCING out past the two stags before her as she awaited an

answer, mocha orbs alighted on another equine. This equine

was almost one with the ground, for his coat was marred by dirt.

She did not doubt that it had once been a fine coat, for the stag

did not carry himself as a mongrel would. A noble build he

possessed and even though he hesitated to approach her she

doubted he was less worthy then the others. Dipping her crown

in apology to Xavier and Dakota she stepped between them and

towards the discolored stag. Nickering softly she spoke, ”Why

are you so hesitant in your approach?” It was an honest

question and she doubted it would insult the stag, she had

known some stags were very sensitive to insults so she had

made it a habit when she pointed out another’s hesitance to say

so sweetly. Its always much easier to swallow chocolate instead

of vinegar.


AS she awaited a reply, she studied the stag more closely. As

she had noticed before his stance was very noble but the state

of his coat, mane, and tail was nowhere close to being

considered noble. Even so the sun glanced off the occasional

clean spot on his pelt, and she could tell that his true pelt color

would have been a glistening gray. It did not take long before

her mind was wondering what had put the stag in the state he

currently was in. Only time would tell and she would have to

wait for the stag to reply to her inquiry first. Hastily remembering

her manners she spoke, ”Sorry, my name is Kulta.” With

that she waited for a reply from the discolored stag.</sub>

[Is my text to hard to read? I can make it a darker color if it is.]

[xavier.]

xavier.

Auditives swiveled apon his majestic crest, his dark onyx pools glancing from the femme to what healed her sweet attention. His crania turned, looking past his blades to the stag that was seemingly fast approaching. The stag looked like he was in a hard state, just dirty, that's all. He seemed to have the confidence of a king though. Pillars moved slightly, bodic shifting to the right, making room for the once alabastor stag beside him. He seemed rather familar, not quiet sure why though. A small smile was reserved for him, and crania came down, dipping to the new brute, before his attention fell away from him, and back to the femmora. He had heard her lyrics not moments before. He pondered the question lightly. There were many things she might ought to know, but only a few things he was willing to answer with.

He could tell her the fondation of who he was, a simple stag, with simple desires, just like everyone else. He could tell her that he had always made his home here, in power plateau. He could tell her that he had a small herd consisting of one mare, and that he was usually happy and content with life. However. He could not tell her his linage, for he himself could not quiet understand it. He could not tell her why he had actually live here his whole life, while others only a few months. He could not tell her why he was actually here, why the plateau was left to him. He regreted that he couldn't tell her many things, for those things came with time, and with time came trust. And they had just met, so he doubted she trusted him either, for she too had secrets to hide, he was sure of it.

So maybe, he had less to offer her then he thought. He was far less interesting then the dirty brujo somewhere behind him. While he had a story that shown through in the way he looked and acted. Xavier did not, therefore, the thought of a mystery completely leaving what words migh describe the brawn brujo. But I guess that is how you truely get to know others. Some say that you don't get to know others by their looks, but isn't it the way they look that draws you to ask questions? So prehaps, looks did have something to do with it. He looked closer at the pint stag beside him. Maybe he had a story as well? Onyx pools watched the femme, maybe she did too. So mayn questions, gone unanswered arose in his chest. He however, didn't really care, for he wasn't one to answer questions, so he doubted his would ever be answered.

But maybe that what life was about. The journey, searching for anwers to those questions. Maybe it was all just a great quest in life, trying to figure out why and how things worked the way they did, or the way others were the way they were. Maybe it was just all one big secret. Just maybe. So many possibilities, so many things out there. A little overwhelming, yes, but still, it could be handled. Onyx pools looked past the golden hued mare, off into the sky, how far did it actually go? Forever? Forever was such an uncomprehendable word. Not even if you focused on it long enough could you even think of what that meant. The mind set up too many bounderies, blockaids.

The zephyr drew him away form his thoughts, and his onyx pools focused more on the golden Kutla, his banner lashing out at his sides, his nerves stinging from where they hit on his brawn pelt. Auditives swivled on his mohagony crest, and his dreambox lowered lightly, pillars evening out his wieght every so often. Talons scathed the ground gently, his pillars stained with the red earth for a moment, then settled on his coat, barely noticable. Mug opened gently, finally answering her question. He would answer with the fondation. Details would come in time, but of course, we have already been over that.

"I've grown up in these lands, inheriting Power Plateau from my father. My herd is small at the moment, I have one fae, Jetaita. She's very nice, I'm sure you'd like her."

His mug closed, vocals ceasing. His onyx pools strayed to the worn ground, finding that it might not be so worn at all. Crush blades lay under foot, and he was tempted to move, but then realised he would crush more the more he stepped. He looked away from them, feeling rather foolish that he was caring for the well being of grass. Onyx gaze rested apon the pinto stag, wondering what his story was. He wasn't really curious, just a normal wondering. Just like everything else Xavier had encountered, he was mellow about it.

[nah, it's fine, I can read it.]

[~♥Dakota♥~]

Dakota's orbs were lowered as he went into thought at her first question. He didn't have much to say. He thoguth even deeper, raking his brain for answers. He just snagged something.

M'dear, I just plan to have a medium herd in my large terra, Eclipse Valley. We shall have lots of fun there, while still protecting our home.

His orbs strayed to the stag that just aproached. When the flicka spoke, Dakota's pools went back to her, awaiting the stallion's answer.

[/font][/color]

(Yucky post))

[Requiem]

Daggers had buried tyhemselves in the moist floor, the grass as green as it could be, seeming to grow longer ever second. Everything gave him the impression it was growing; new life out of... something dead. You could almost see it happen before your eyes. It was all just he masculine’s imagination though. Still, wasn’t imagination a good thing? Usually is was. Or wasn’t. An imaginary world could bring out the best of the present world; it could make it look as if everything sparkled, as if life was perfect. On the other hand, it might as well reinforce the contrast between this not quite perfect world, and the one of your mind. And it would make you sad, sad for everything that wasn’t here, that wasn’t even possible in this place. Requiem could imagine that this thing called imagination had driven a lot of equines insane.

He did not know what category of horses he belonged to. The ones whose world would feel enlightened, or those who would lose themselves in time. Only time could tell, and Requiem could wait. He didn’t have much choice, really. Truth be told, he liked to dream. Yet every time he would wake up, he would realize it was just that, a dream. And he would be sad. And happy at the same time; that at least he knew how it could be. A quick glance towards the emerald floor to clear his gaze, and then he looked up again, studying the three once more. While he had been lost in thoughts, the female had said something to the two. He had only caught her last words. “... know about you?” Naturally she was speaking to the two standing there, for it wasn’t until then, that she moved her gaze away from them, and towards him.

It shocked Requiem, to be nocited all of a sudden. Sometimes he would rather hide behind one of the huge trees these lands posessed, yet at other times he longed to be seen. He knew he wasn’t more or less than any other patron, and he often felt the need to prove it. “Why are you so hesitant in your approach?” Sweet vocals reached his auditives, causing them to swivel forward. The sun kissed fae put a few steps forward, and the burgundy czar moved a bit to the side before answering the bella donna’s question. Whether it was to let her pass, or to make space for Requiem, he didn’t know at first. Yet the male gave him a small nod, and that was when he knew he had been invited to join the three. By then, the femme had come a little closer, and he now proceeded too into the direction of the small group. He didn’t want to split it in two; he and the vixen, and then the two stallions left behind. No, that would not be good. He halted at a respectable distance away from the nymph, somewhere between the two other stallions. He gave them all a dip of his skull, in a beginning respect for them, and in thanks.

Why had he been so hesitant? It was just who he was. He had not been sure if he had been welcome to join them. He had been stunned by the arrival of the two other males before he had ended his two-minute journey, while he had been sure there hadn’t been anybody yet when he had started to advance. “I have no idea, miss,” he truthfully spoke, shaking his crown lightly. When she introduced herself after apologizing for god knows what – her friendliness perhaps ? – Requiem let deep and calm tones emit from his voice box. “Requiem.” Might sound a little short, yet what else was there to say? While speaking, he let his gaze travel to the other two mascu’s, so they would know he was not only talking to the naiad. He tried not to ignore them; what reason was there, to pretend as if they weren’t there? “Pleasure to meet you,” Ah, he had found something to say. Again, to all three of them. Moving his visionairies from left to right must really make him look like a nervous idiot.

He scraped his throat, for not only had his lyrics sounded deep and calm, they had also been a bit raspy. He hadn’t spoken much lately. It might sound a little scary. He didn’t want to be scary. He wasn’t scary at all. Not one to laugh at either, but just... normal. Requiem blinked once, twice, as he thought deeply about what else there was to say. The two stallions had spoken about their territories. Though the bloodshed caesar had said something along the lines of ‘Im sure you’d like her,’ and the multi coloured brute had spoken of ‘we’. Requiem didn’t really get it. But seeing as the conversation seemed to go about herds, and territories, he might as well say something too, hm? “I live in the Emerald Acres, me and Hadia,” he nodded to himself. He pretty much said the same as the two others. It sounded a bit forced, since it was forced. Otherwise, he would have never said anything at all. And would have looked like an even bigger idiot.

-- ooc -- so can I, no problems at all =) --

[// KULTA]

WHILE she waited for a reply from the discolored stag, she heard

Xavier approach and speak. Taking a step back she remade the

circle they had had before so that they were all able to see each

others faces. Each step she took was graceful and made barely

any audible sound on the soft loam beneath their flints. Orbs

turned to Xavier as he spoke watching his face with kind eyes

while her golden auditives caught the words he spoke. While he

spoke slightly of his past it was not much and from the sounds of

it, it seemed as if he had suffered very little in his time on this

earth, and he already had one fae. Slight nod was given to let

him know that she acknowledged his words and dial was turned

to Dakota, the stag had been rather quiet thus far, so she

patiently awaited his words.


QUICK glance was given to the still unnamed stag before she

turned back to Dakota, catching the words that slipped from his

lips. Just as Xavier had remarked little on his past, this stag said

even less. It just meant that she had to assume that neither

stag had had a very eventful past, or they chose not to tell just

as she had chosen not to tell. Nod was given to Dakota and she

spoke softly to both stags, ”Thank-you for telling me of

yourselves.” Even though they had barely spoken of

anything of substance she expected their was more to each but

they had decided not to speak of it.


GAZE traveled back once again to the stag of noble stature, he

was a mystery, and something of that intrigued her. When he

spoke, her gaze which had traveled back to study Dakota and

Xavier was pulled back to him. Requiem. What an unusual name,

she thought. Never before had she heard one with the likes of

it. His reply to her question was rather unexpected, she had

assumed he would of at least had a reason or even an inkling of

a reason as to his hesitation, but his reply puzzled her. Trying

not to let her expression fool her, she put on her best ‘poker

face’. Replying she said, ”Nice to meet you as well,

Requiem.” Listening to his last words, she was mildly

surprised to hear that he had a terra and a dove already.


GUESSING that they expected something of her in return she

spoke calmly. ”My parents were killed, when I was

young.” She began, leaving out the part about her parents

killing themselves over her, and their difference in alliances.

Mocha orbs showed some sadness at telling only half the truth to

the stags before her, but she continued anyway, ”I stumbled

upon a hermit, who taught me about herbs, and I became an

experienced healer. After he died, I wandered some more and

have found myself here.” There she had told them of part of

her history, most of it. Glancing over them once again she

waited for one of them to speak, she could guess where things

were going but she did not want to guess wrongly and act

prematurely. Besides, she still had not chosen who she thought

would be the best stag to follow.

[Okay, cool glad the font is readable.]

[Requiem]

Kulta moved back again, the circle not broken any longer. Every step she took was one of pure grace; she almost seemed to glide on an invisible inch of air, as though her talons didn’t even touch the ground. Requiem had to notice it; being a listener rather than a talker, he had learned to listen, and to watch. He knew many things about his surroundings, about the equines near him, and all that just because he knew where to look, and what to ignore. If there was even something you could possibly ignore. Every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem, had at least some importance to at least one living soul. Kulta moved her attention from the one stag to the other, paying attention to all of them.

When the naiad diverted her vision back to him, she had an almost-blank mask on her face. Much less expression than before. Was that because she tried to hide something? What would a vixen like her have to hide? Perhaps she found his name slightly odd. It didn’t exactly give you a positive feeling, yet the name wasn’t completely negative either, he supposed. He had thought about this a lot, and it had almost become a second nature to try and see what others thought of the dubbance he had been given as a petite colt. He had never changed it. A name was something sacred, and whether you liked it or not, it belonged to you, it made you to who you were. Besides, he didn’t dislike his name that much.

A hint of surprise flashed across the female’s features after the patron’s last pair of vocals; when he had told her about the Acres and Hadia. Or it might just be imagination. One thing was sure though; he didn’t look like a real king, like a horse that had settled down. He indeed, bore the looks of a true wanderer, and actually that was what he was. He had only arrived here a few days ago. His pelt was dirty. Dirty stains one would have to get used to, combined with the dust of his voyage. And perhaps there were other things about him, his stature, his attitude, that told others he was more of a traveller than a king. Even know, he couldn’t settle down in his own ‘kingdom’. He had to wander from the east side to the south, to the north and finally to the west and the centre. He had just gotten used to never staying more than a few days in the same place. Still, he had longed to have a place to call his, and as such had given himself permission to claim a claimable land.

Silence filled the air, but not for long. Kulta – who didn’t have the most common name herself either – opened her jaws and let gentle tones escape. “My parents were killed, when I was young.” Requiem dipped his cranium, eyelids almost closed. He knew how it felt. He didn’t really know whether his dam and sire were dead, yet he had aways assumed they were, after the fire. He had felt so lonely, and hadn’t known what to do. He immediately felt some sort of connection with Kulta, in stead of the mere attraction he had felt before. He missed the look on the mare’s features, seeing as he only looked up again when she continued, spontaneously telling the stallions before her about the rest of her life. It was a short summary, but it was enough. Requiem wasn’t so sure if he would tell complete strangers about himself. He really wasn’t used to the process of claiming, and thus didn’t know this was a kind of tradition.

It was only an upwards glance though. He soon dropped his vision again, listening to Kulta. She had found someone who had taught her the art of healing. The czar didn’t know anything about herbs. He knew what to eat and what not to eat; that was it. Then the hermit had died. Another death in the young life of Kulta. It must have been horrible. He finally lifted his gaze again and his voice was slightly muffled, odd for sure. “I – I am sorry to hear about your parents.”

[// KULTA]

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[~♥Dakota♥~]

~*Dakota*~

I nodded my dial, understanding. My sire was evil, my dam was dead. It was the same old story. By now, the memory was just a mere pound upon the tons of burdens carried upon my back. I wasn't so sure about being here. All the other stags seemed wiser, and older. I was pretty young, and looking for more faes. I wasn't out much, for I cared for my land as if it were a foal that had a diseases like AIDS or something. I didn't leave my realm often, for each part of it had to be carefully patrolled for intruders planning to take over. I was very cautious.

As I listened to her words, flashbacks I had never seen before reached my mind. I tossed my nape, ridding my head of the awful, unwanted memories. My orbs were still low. I stood barely any chance against these stags. I didn't like to sweet talk much, though I did when needed. I was more of the humorous fun stag. Not the strict and perfect kind. Most stallions thought of themselves as perfect, and I despised that. Nobody was perfect, and nobody ever will be. That is, except God. He is the only perfect one.

I feel your pain, for my dear dam died right after she gave birth to me.

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