TREAT ME LIKE FIRE ,

[Kezz]

R h o s w e n ,

& i'll dance in the ashes of their love

Freedom, to her, was a rare jewel. It shone just out of reach and in the darkness of the desert night she had cursed the bindings of her blood, tying her to her father's dunes. Rhos simply couldn't comprehend how comfortable her eldest brother was with being cooped up in the golden palace that was their home — though the princess likened it more to a desolate wasteland than a manor of ornate beauty. She was reaching her first birthday and already her head swam with ideas of insurgency; she knew Rühm felt the same, she saw it in his silent eyes, but her brother was not without his own misgivings: his mind was packed tight with reservations, anxieties, bitterness even. The silver-stained princess however, oh, she was gasoline.

Today Rhoswen had escaped, and there was no looking back now. Of course she would return, but in her own time — fuck them. Rhaegar would glare at her, Iscariot would cast a disappointed sigh and her mother would hiss her scathing discipline. But she didn't care, she was the bullet and they would become the wound. It wasn't that she loathed her family more so the regime forced upon her. Youth was fleeting and it was something Rhoswen was acutely aware of; time would not always be on here side and to waste it away, melting in the desert, was not a fate she was prepared to accept. In any case: this was her universe, didn't they know?

x open x ref

[CHAR-IZARD!]

K L A U S

The unknown, that's what he was afraid of. Each day he woke up to something new, the sunlight either shown brighter or didn't shine at all, sometimes the bluebirds would sing and sometimes they wouldn't. Klaus didn't like not being in control of things, he didn't like waking up not knowing what to expect. Perhaps it was the OCD or maybe it was the fact that he was bursting with testosterone and liked to be in charge. Either way he didn't like it. He moved haughtily across the snow, stumbling with young and arrogance. Marks of wisdom already layered his youthful coat which shone in a bloody auburn even in the darkness of Winter. He had just turned four in late Fall and had spent most of his years wandering alone. No one had ever loved him or had shown any affection towards him, there had simply been one lady that had saved his life as a foal and raised him. She didn't nurture him in any way, she would feed him to keep him from starving to death. Klaus had been scrawny and wormy-looking for most of his life, even now his muscles couldn't clearly hid his ribs that barely shown beneath his Winter scruff. But he knew as he grew older that he would bulk up and gain some weight, he was still young and growing. There was still a youthfulness about him that one couldn't quite put their finger on.

He heaved a large blow of steam from his nostrils as he not so gracefully stepped over a fallen tree. The area was dead, nothing moved, the air didn't stir. It was dead. He was disappointed but not discouraged, so he continued on, finally stopping whenever he came to a large waterfall that barely drizzled from the side of a mountain. Somewhere nearby he heard the crunch of snow under the light weight of another, he didn't move besides crooking his neck to see the newcomer. It was a filly, one that was painted in dark stains of crimson and silver. She was young, too young in his opinion to be wandering on her own. But he was the same age whenever he ventured out into the world.

"Hello."

He spoke to her with a dark, serious, respectful tone. The little lady walked with an easy going stride that represented power, which maybe she did or did not have. Either way he would give her credit for trying.

ooc: Kezz I hope you don't mind me for posting here!

[Kezz]

R h o s w e n ,

& i'll dance in the ashes of their love

Striking and flamboyant though she may have appeared from afar, Rhoswen was undeniably young: her frame could be likened to that of a doe — narrow, precisely sharp at the edges, carried on light legs too long for her exiguous frame. And though rebellion burned passionately on her tongue, her eyes were round still with a fresh and untouched innocence. Iscariot knew this, he understood it, for a long time ago he had seen such defiance in the gaze of his older sister; but then, look how she had turned out.

The red roan girl did not notice the stallion until he was all but upon her, and she whirled rather unsteadily on her young limbs, dark grey orbs glittering sharply.

"Hello."

Had she been older Rhoswen would have labeled the stranger as handsome, but as yet her gaze did not factor in attraction, not yet at least. But she was not so naive as to ignore his looks; he was tall, his skin was a shade that reminded her almost of her father - had it been a touch lighter - and a sprinkling of white grew up from his underbelly. He sounded rather serious, and this caused a delicate, sugary smile to tug at the corners of her lips. 

"What's eating you?"

CHAR-IZARD!

[CHAR-IZARD!]

K L A U S

The older stallion caught her by surprise.  She had been unaware that she was moving towards him and when she finally realized it, they had almost bumped into each other.  Klaus stood there silently, not even a chuckle emerged when the naive little girl nearly hit him.  He did not find her young innocence charming at all.  He did find her beautiful, despite her young age, she was a pale crimson and silver glitter sprinkled across her dainty bodice.  She had strong eyes, they were a liquid grey only a few shades darker than that kissed her body, with splotches of forest green.  What would you call that?  Hazel?  Klaus blinked his warm brown eyes, melted snow crystals now sliding down the crevasses of his long face.

There was something that Klaus found comforting in her company, even though she was nothing but a mere baby.  Perhaps it was the fact that he had found himself wandering alone for a long while, it was a good two years if longer.  The stallion normally found himself alone and he liked it, but it grew old.  Solitude always grew old.  As the young lady finally gathered her wits to reply, Klaus couldn't find an appropriate answer.

"What's eating you?"

What was "eating" him?  He wasn't very familiar with the term but he knew what it meant.  He wasn't good with conversations.  Emotions stirred within him as he searched to find an appropriate answer.  His eyes watered and his heart lurched as he cleared his throat, there was not one specific thing that was wrong with him so he decided to lie.

"Nothing."

His rough voice lurched from calm and collected to a worrisome echo that reflected his complicated personality.  The filly stared upon the larger horse with innocent eyes and a sweet, delicate smile that some might draw worry from.  He ignored it, simply wondering how he could change the conversation.

"I'm Klaus.  Um, who are you?"

Kezz

[Kezz]

R h o s w e n ,

& i'll dance in the ashes of their love

The sight of this stallion, this man, reminded Iscariot's granddaughter of a conversation she had overheard not long ago. Her parents had been discussing her betrothal, and she recalled the conflict of anger and excitement at the thought of her new prince: Lucien, a name was all she knew of this faceless boy. He was Charlie's son, perhaps his last, and the grandchild of the black stallion Castro — a lineage to be proud of, and it made Rhoswen deliciously pleased to know that her marriage would be to royal, famous blood. For the young girl was hungry for fame; she dreamed of riches and power, she fantasized of the day when her sanguine head would be crowned with the most beautiful tiara. She would the fairest of all the queens MUSTANG had witnessed, that much she would make sure. 

This stranger, however, was just that: a foreigner, an alien even, to these lands. Or at least she assumed, perhaps wrongly. Rhoswen had taken the time to interrogate her family about the legends and leads of the kingdoms she would one day grace. And as she spoke his name, Klaus, the desert princess was almost certain he was not a man she had heard of before. "All well and good, but who are your parents?" Rhoswen bit her lip, knowing instantly that her question had been perhaps insensitive but then lazily she shrugged off any inhibition with the realisation that she did not care. For within her bones there was a roiling materialistic greed that defined people by the blood in their veins and the wealth in their name.

She was the ugly product of monarchy, the pretentious result of a long powerful line.  

Rhos giggled, scarlet curls bouncing as she shifted on her slender limbs, "I am Rhoswen, third child of Iscariot and Severina. The only princess of the desert, I'll have you know."

CHAR-IZARD! what a pleasantly arrogant child c;

[CHAR-IZARD!]

K L A U S

Power had never been something that Klaus desired in life, no, not at all. However he wasn't much of a family man and he wasn't much of a loner either. It was a complicated situation. Everything that he had ever known had been complicated. The relationship with his adopted mother had been complicated, his travels could not be described in the simplest way, and he was constantly fighting a mental battle that let him to believe that he would never know what he wanted. It didn't matter what it was, he could never say yes or no. He gave an insecure shrug, large shoulders rolling hesitantly as he looked towards the girl with liquid brown eyes. His eyes were the reflection of warmth and happiness, he had large, "kind" eyes but he didn't see himself as a kind person. He wasn't into the whole friends thing, he simply liked having acquaintances. This girl was simply an acquaintance, he didn't desire anything in her. She was pretty, yes, but she was an arrogant little creature.

She looked upon Klaus with piercing grey orbs that were full of curiosity, only then he knew that whenever she blinked her long lashes and opened her mouth to speak he knew it was going to be a personal question. The muscles in his neck strained a little bit as he took in her question.

"All well and good, but who are your parents?"

He heaved a loud sigh that caused every muscle and bone in his body to tremble, his nostrils flared with haste. His brown eyes grew large as he glared at her. Normally he would just walk off and ignore the question, but she was young and intrusive, he understood. He was still young and learning himself.

"I'm not sure."

His voice cracked a little under pressure and came off as a snap, nothing soothing about the young man's voice now. He had started life off roughly, there was no denying that. What amount of scars that already cursed his body proved that. From the looks of the little roan filly it seemed as though she had never seen a rough patch in her life. They came from different worlds and as she spoke again that proved his theory.

"I am Rhoswen, third child of Iscariot and Severina. The only princess of the desert I'll have you know."

He stifled a chuckle as she said so only to go on to state a sarcastic comment.

"Of course you are. The pleasure is all mine, miss Rhoswen."

Kezz