Fallen Angel (Closed)

[shady]

Oh, how these lands echoed the slumber that was within her. Even to the same coloring or it being off by a slight shade. The land was scared just like she was, how the demon within slept waiting for it to be awaken by a dull rumble. The smoking black doe (or if you could call her a doe) steadily walked the rough Terra before her. Her scars littered her tight body, each holding a tale of her life growing up. The wind whipped her dark hair about as she stepped with powerful strides, her eyes a beautiful amber with a ring of black. She was a warrior and would always know the life even when at times she wished she did not know.

Emi, was her name. Mustang ran through her veins, like her fathers and mothers before her, she would never again want to see those demons of her past. A hole lived where a once innocent (If at all) heart stayed, she knew she was alive but felt death was where she walked. The dark female noticed a figure ahead, a male no doubt from what she could see and smell. Ears pinned immediately to her crown as she tossed her head up her muscles tensed as she stopped and pawed at the dead earth below.

She knew to never let her guard down for it could mean death, and today she did not feel like dying instead she would if needed be to take this buck on. He was maybe a year younger then she but that did not mean a thing. There was no telling what he would do if she allowed him closer. Emi, bowed her neck as she continued to paw the ground dust flew up as she snorted. She was still a war horse after all, she welcomed a battle when given the chance. If, it had not been for the scars that dotted her body she would have been a beauty.

If, it had not been the way she was bought up she would have smiled and greeted the stallion with a friendly voice. But, no her throat was forever scared from the battle cries that rang from her cords, her once flawless body ruined from the consent battling and if she was not fighting she was beaten to curve ha mare's natural sweetness. She stomped her hoof before she gave a half rear her whip like tail whipped the air almost giving a cracking sound as she landed again.

Another gnarled snort left her nose as she glared at the black liver flaxen man. Her eyes, ever focused on the steed before, and her body ready to charge if he was to threaten her.

<{Txepster}> with Fossick    

[<{Txepster}>]

Snorting as black dust filled his nostrils, Fossick stomped irritated, this land was dead. Far more dead than he had hoped. Having come here to seek dangers and thrills, but instead it was a wasteland. Nothing left but hardened lava plates to scamper on. No flowing streams of molten lava to jump and feel the heat. Nothing to get the adrenaline flowing. So boring, did this place of Mustang have any sorts of fun? He was really thinking it didn't. Jerking his crown, he figured it was time to get back to lady Zephyr, his belated brother's last lady. Fossick had agreed willingly to take care of her, with word Drover's spirit had guided the appaloosa sheila to him, Foss took it as a sign as his duty to oblige. 

Sighing, droopily lulling his head to the side as he turned around and to his surprise there was a rather spicy doe flaunting around a bit infront of him. A curious brow raised at the display she was presenting, from her body stature he guessed a mustang breeding, similar to Zephyr and a few others he'd met so far had a familiar confirmation. Definitely similar to the brumby blood in himself but with more English bloodlines influencing his wild breedings than the spanish lines and drafts breeds to mix up the mustangs. Fossick rolled his eyes, lasses seemed to be easily offended by a males presence around this place, this wasn't the first hostility in a sheila he'd met here. 

Nickering softly and invitingly, the black chestnut brute hoped the fae would take it as a nice gesture, though he readied himself to take defense if necessary. Either way he still walked casually closer to the ebony miss, "G'day miss, not ev'rayday a ma'am es outta wack me off with out say'n why. A bit cheeky of ya ain't et?" Fossick chuckled drawing up short not wanting to be in range of any of her flailing irons. He really wasn't interested in getting in a quarrel and at least he didn't believe hitting a lady with out real good reason behind doing so, far more than just cause too. Looking at her a bit unamused at the show she was putting on.



shady

[shady]

Ears remained pinned to her dark crown as he nickered and another snort left her nose as he came closer. Her body remained tense and ready, there was no telling what this bloke would do to her. Some memories here and there flashed in her mind's eye, her breathing steady yet posed just like her body. As he stopped she noticed his stocky build much like her own, same wild breeding ran through maybe a bit different than her own.

His voice sounded strange to her, maybe it was because no war cry flowed from his cords like she was use to. His golden amber orbs locked with her own amber and black irises, her eyes showed no mercy as they glared right back at him. It seemed she looked right through him, as if saying what are you looking at.

"I have my reasons." Came her scarred voice, no doubt it held a gravel tone from all the screaming she did. She did not easy her stance, her ears still pinned to her nape, just like some have said. Ill treatment made a sour horse and she was the most bitter sweet thing anyone knew. Her skin was tight around her battle ready body, scars hidden and scars visible as the hot sun kissed her smokey coat.

She only spoke when spoken too, she did not want to give anything that this stallion could use against her. She wanted to know what it was like to be "normal" to have that and be what stallions saw as nothing but a pretty face. But who was she kidding? She was not a pretty face, all she is or was a tool for war. A warrior in her own right, and now what would become of her?

Her breathing steady, taking in his scent he was just getting into his prime no doubt. What was this man's story? Why was he talking to her? Either way Emi stood ready not relaxing nor did she flinch and looked away. No, she stood still ready to face whatever he wanted to how at her, heck she was a war machine as it was.

<{Txepster}>

[<{Txepster}>]

"Whoa, easy the'ar miss. Aye don't beat up sheilas like ya'rself, none fo' that matta. Ya act like I offended ya o' somethin." Fossick wasn't one to get riled about small things but he sure didn't like being treated like he was a murderer or killer. He'd never hurt a sould even a damn fly's... well less it bit it rump then it deserved to be swatted. Either way this sheila was way to pent up, he either reminded her of something or perhaps a sibling of his wronged her some how. He really didn't know, his relations were countless and couldn't say if more had reached this far. Though he doubted it. Perhaps one of Drover's decedent wronged her? Still a brow was raised curiously. 

"Less ya got reason honey, I'am goin' that way," The liver flaxen brute nodded his head in the direction behind the creamy black doe, "Meh business he'ar es done. No thrills to be had sadly, damn mount'n es all haw'dened up en all, lame sack of wallaby pooh it es. A lass is off yonder somewhe'aw I have to keep tabs on. If ya get ya'r tail out of a bunch ya could join us o' just be a crank like a croc." The blunt aussie gave her the offer, though it was awkward for him to mention he had a lady somewhere he protected. He'd been off on his own so much often times it slipped his mind he had responsibility. Hell he hadn't even thought of trying to court miss Zephyr let alone keep a good eye on her, plus that seemed wrong means his brother had... well... had her already... several times... his nieces were proof of that.  Fossick shook his head in a bit of disgust at thinking of having it with a mare of his older brother's, seemed oddly really wrong. 

Looking back at the frisky scarred mare infront of him, realizing he'd spaced his thinking again. Show's ya how intent he was to 'harm' this stranger. "Now if ya don't mind?" Fossick nodded his crown in gesture he was going to go around her. "It's been a pleasu'aw Miss Frisky. Name's Fossick if ya eva care ta look meh up. Foss fo' shawt. " He bowed his crown courteous to her, still keeping leery eye on her though. Her tenseness was something to keep an eye on as he worked on skirting around her. Least he greeted and dismissed with his name being nice to gave a halfass invitation to her to find if she chilled her britches down to just be friends. 

shady yes he has a thick aussie accent that I SUCK at trying to type out. 

[shady]

Emi, watched as he spoke to her in his weird accent, and truthfully she believed him. She straightened her auds out just a little, so he was a protector? Then why was he so far off from this other lady? Her eyes never softened though, they remained on him like he was her enemy. She breathed slowly as her body relaxed just a bit.

"The name is Emi." She spoke again with a gravel to her song, her amber eyes still hard like her heart. It was beating yes but the hard times she had, stoned it up and turned it to ice. Maybe, just maybe he could be somewhat of a friend, if she did not know what that word meant. "Forgive me, just I'm not use to blokes like yourself." The smokey lady added it was strange to hear these words leave her mouth as she watched him skirt by her, her head turned watching him.

"Fossick." She tried the name with her scarred tones as she turned her body to still face him, eyes still as hard as the material below there irons. It was strange to be speaking in a normal voice instead of barking out orders or slashing another's hide for thinking they could take her. it was true what she said, she was not us eto the treatment this man was showing her. In a way it was....Nice....But it made the warrior wondered what he wanted.

"This Sheila?" She hoped she said it right seeing it was a new word crossing her cords and ringing from her throat as she watched the flaxen man walk. "Is she as...Kind, as you?" She asked pausing a bit with a word she had only dreamed of saying. Maybe having crossed paths with this strange talking man would be good for the tired fighter.

Maybe he could show her what kindness was, something she only dreamed about when she was little. She stayed where she was, tall and proud as she waited for his answer. She hoped she was doing right.

<{Txepster}>

[<{Txepster}>]

The gruff lyrics she emitted got the aussie liver boy to stop in his tracks as he'd been walking cautiously around her, she did know how to speak in kind and not be offended or threatening. Made him smile a crooked smirk, letting out an easy breath, "The'a ya go, chillin' out es fa' mo'e easi'a. Emeh... Fits ya fine. " Then Fossick couldn't help but chuckle and wink at her, "Oh meh'dea' the'a ain't none like me. Me doubt ya eva meet such a fine brumby like mehself in these pa'ts. It'd be offendable to be compa'ed to any other yank around he'a, me ain't that touchy tho." Foss flicked his anchor lightly with amusement, her naiveness amused him in a good way and he liked not finding a stuck up judgmental sheila critiquing him with their squinting eyes. 

"Hehe, everabody says et. " Commenting on how she questioningly repeated the term he'd used for the mare he was associated with, it amused him how much his cultural slang and dialect was so different from these other equine critters. "Jus' means female genda whe'a I'm from. Instead ofe say'n ma'ya o' filleh he'a. And yes, Ms. Zephya is a league mo'e kinda then mehself, though me ain't a bad chap in the none, she'll always top meh tho. Probablah why me olda brotha rooted with her several times and stayed. " Fossick declared rather proudly of referring how his older brother Drover had chosen well to mate and keep Zephyr for his own. It was a thing to be proud of when one was striving to be as amazing and strong as his older brother, it chilled Foss to know he'd probably never try anything with Lady Zephyr in respect of Drover. He wouldn't know what to do if she ever approached him about the idea either. 

Smiling a cheeky but warm smirk he nodded to the faded black doe before him, "If ya' will'n I'am sure Ms. Zephya wouldn't mind meet'n ya at all. " Black crimson harks pricked as the liver brute twisted his crown to look farther down the mountain, straining his amber orbs, attempting to see the paling rouge body of the refined older fae. "Now I'am pretteh sure she was somewhe'a down the'a, nea' the base.. Wanna race?" A twinkle glimmered in his golden amber eye as he looked to Emi with a bright anxious smile. Stomping a front iron as he snorted and nodded down the slope of Mount Socotra, hoping she'd go for the game and competition he was suggesting.



shady Laredo (wanna join after shady posts or after they start running down the hill IF Emi goes for it?)