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 A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate

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PostSubject: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Tue Apr 26 2011, 14:47

They called her Cyn, but that was only because the title of mother was too endearing and due to the fact that the word sounds could be taken as more of an insult than a calling. Still, though, they traveled with her waiting for their future lovers, their rescuers to come and take them away from the influence of sin. Many classified the fae as a caring and gentle mother, but no one knew what happened behind closed doors. No one knew what the past and future represented or even the very fibers of her personality that she stowed away so keenly. Only the ones who traveled on silent daggers of unspoken fury and lips sealed shut from years of damage knew. Only they had lived it, breathed it, and tried to love it.

Cyn wasn't a pretty mare, but she got the job done with having many, many foals. One time right after another she would get pregnant as soon as this year's foals were born. "Come to me stags and take your chances," she giggled as her ebony touched pillars bounced through the meadows of the river territory. "You won't regret it," Cynjarah whispered to the wind, not caring what words of her conversation to the many stallions reached the harks of her youths. They would know eventually anyways, for they would see the process of life and all things of it.

Chance took disgust in her words, tossing his silvery, soft tresses with a snort. Unlike the youths surrounding them, he was full grown and ready to make a life of his own. Mother couldn't poison his mind more than she already had in days of old. Words meant nothing to him anymore, and actions shone through words in a judge of character. So far, her moral compass pointed directly south, but he didn't claim to be perfect. Being a brawny, handsome colt, flickas had always been drawn to him. To the best of his ability, he had denied them, but today was different. Wasn't a stag entitled to love someone?

"Chance de Vallon!!" his skull jerked up abruptly as he heard her rasped vocals screaming his calling, annoyance filling her words. "What do you need, mother?" sighing, his harks remained neutral, sunlight flickering off of his spotted pelt. Feathers upon his thick pillars danced as they neared her cautiously. What crazy scheme was she up to now...what did she want from him? "Do you see that fae? The one with the gleaming palomino pelt. Go force her and make mother proud of you," she whispered, snickering wildly as his pools of ebony enlarged to where the ivory bits were revealed. "No! I am not a wench like you - I would never hurt a mare," Chance backed away from her, finding his own place among the sweet, long grasses of summer.

At that Cyn became enraged, pinning her harks sharply, she ordered the younger ones closer. "All of you are scum, you know that? The only worthy one of you all is Blood Red Sandman," Cynjarah screamed, kicking out at Sabine as she dashed away quickly and took to the sky immediately. "I don't need you anymore," Chance whispered, ebony orbs gleaming with pride and self sufficiency. There was no longer a chain around his heart and mouth, and love would be found in the laces of darkness, in the vines of truth.

The others, though, were not so lucky and wished to be stolen away from their mother. None were left unscathed except for the massive bloodstained colt. A killing machine he would be if only he stayed with his mother for another day. What a shame of perfection brought so purely to this earth, only to be destroyed and made into a monstrosity.

Aralyn was a newborn, getting milk from random mares that seemed to pass them by so luckily on the trails. Bony ribs stuck out against her dull ivory pelt, spotted with raindrops of ebony. Short, fluffed tresses of gray grew from her short, frail form, blowing around in the strong gales. It was hard to keep her daggers planted into the earth, for she was weak. How much longer would weak be tolerated before it was destroyed? Innocence probed her delicate features, those lively, gleaming deep blue orbs. They wouldn't be alive for long if someone didn't come to save her.

Silent tears ran down Aralyn's cheek as she searched with her eyes for some sort of assistance, some savior to either take her life away or her pain. It didn't matter which, but the suffering had to stop. Now. "Please....mom. Please give me some milk. I am oh so thirsty," she whimpered, falling to her knees in a deep bow. Ignored, just as she always was. "Help me...someone," Aralyn wailed, feeling a soft nuzzle upon the neck from her sister.

"Sabine...you don't have to come to my rescue all the time. You're too kind. Don't you agree that we need a better home than this though?" Ara asked, watching the intellectual genius in her sister's eyes twinkle. Flames raised against her pillars for a moment but died down as she decided to calmly respond to her sister's irrational words. How could she tell her that they needed to stay, that they couldn't possibly survive without their mother...that no one would want some abandoned foals? "Ara..we shouldn't leave. It's not that I don't want to," Sabine replied, lowering her vocals so that mother couldn't hear. "She'll kill us," Sabine replied, shaking her small, delicate skull a few times before beckoning over to her third sister.

Phylicia was a beautiful flaxen chestnut fae with dapples covering her dull chestnut sides, which were heaving with breathlessness. Just as the others, her ribs were sticking out from all the malnourishment. Tiny feathered wings clung to her thin sides, one twisted in an odd way. Mother had broken it once when Phylicia had tried to escape. Out of all of them, she was the most shy and easy to hurt. It hadn't been a problem for Cyn to hurt her terribly. Tear stains scarred her cheeks like a dried up river did to a land. Bright, intelligent earth orbs glanced into her sisters' hesitantly. "What will we do? You know as well as I that we need to escape....but how?" she asked softly, shyly. Mother didn't need to hear them again...or Blood Red Sandman.

"What is it I hear?" Cynjarah hissed, striking out at Sabine with great force and knocking her to the ground. Snorting, she laughed as the young pegasus whimpered under her brutal force. It was music to her wretched harks, the screaming of youths. "There will be no whispering in my domain or else I shall break all of your wings and not allow them to heal. You have already earned the position of my eternal slaves. Do you want more?" Cyn yelled, trotting away but leaving the healthy Blood Red Sandman close to his sisters.

Blood was gorgeous, in a tainted sense with his beautiful ebony, ivory, and blood hues. Great massive flames sprouted from where his tresses would have been, encasing him in flames. How could one so frightening carry a kind heart? It wasn't impossible. The sisters hadn't been around their brother since his birth, for he had lingered always by his mother's side. Was he really just like her? It scared them to even imagine that there could be two of them. One with a brute's force and one with a mare's. They had to salvage what was left of his soul and mend the scars she had placed on his personality before it was too late.

Unlike them, he was rather plump and muscular, his crimson orbs seeming to see right through them. "I am Blood. I know of you, for she always speaks of how inferior you are. I think she's wrong," said Blood, worry creasing his brow as he examined them. "Actually, I don't know who to believe. Hurting things is kind of fun, but making friends could be okay, too, I guess," said the clueless colt, as he moved his pillar a bit out of anxiety. "So, if you guys wanna be friends with me, you can. It's not like I'll kill you or anything unless you make me really mad. It felt kind of bad when I killed a deer with my power," he whispered, bashfully wondering if they would accept them, and they did. It had been the best for the sisters, who wanted desperately to get away from mother. It had been the best for him, the one who wanted normal relationships with his siblings.

Calandra, a light storm hued fae with ivory splotches, hid in the deep reeds by the raging river. Small bits of rock surrounded her, hiding her bodice from the rest of the world. Gales swayed her short tresses around a bit, but it wasn't enough for any of her siblings to find her. Ebony were her front pillars, laced with sunlight reflecting off of her. Journeys had made her pelt matted, so she brushed crystalline waters upon herself, her wet form glistening even beneath the shade.

Cala hated her mother, but she was detached from the world. Reaching out her pink nose, she smelled a tiny blossoming flower, loving the small swirling scents around it. Sighing, she knew she would have someone love her just as she did the flower. For now, her only loves were her siblings, the ones that would care about her forever and nature. Mother just didn't see to understand the way she thought, but maybe her mate would.

"Safa," she whispered. Hopefully, he wouldn't do anything rash today. Ever since her twin was born, he had had a hate so strong for his mother, it could penetrate love. Safa was beautiful though, in his own way. A shimmering chestnut he was, so strong from being on grass for a while now. No longer did he need mother's milk, but they both had a thin build though. "Don't kill her today, it's not worth it," Cala whispered, touching her nose to his ivory one.

Safa shook his skull violently. "No," he said in finality as he charged forward with so much brute force, she didn't recognize him. He slammed into his mother, who was evidently caught off guard by his attack this time. Cyn hadn't seen him in days and suspected that another one of her offspring had escaped. Now, he had returned to fight her. "Silly colt, moronic boy," she whispered, knocking him down instantly. "No, mother. It is you that is the moron. You raise us to torture us," Safa replied strongly, biting her shoulder so hard that blood was drawn.

At that, Cyn decided she was done with him. He would die for all the misery he had caused her in his year of life. Cynjarah knocked him down violently and was about to kill him, but blurred ivory and ebony stopped right before her, a grin upon its features. "I can control you. You want to die, kill him," she grinned, tossing her long, beautiful tresses aside as she probed her mother's mind. "I see you, pathetic mare. I know your weaknesses and how to exploit them. Don't try me today, mother," Imber whispered. At that, Cyn stepped back from Safa and let her daughter take over. This was the family. This was their issue.

OOC:
Color code for speech:
Cynjarah - maroon
Chance - light blue
Aralyn - Purple
Sabine - Orange
Blood - Red
Safa - yellow
Imber - Navy

1890 words not including key or this
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Thu Apr 28 2011, 01:25

She didn't know where to go... Didn't know what to do. Her eyes held confusion and terror as they kicked her out of her sanctuary, snapping and biting her until at last, she turned to flee. Her muscles, weak from disuse could barely support her weight as she half staggered, half ran from the dwelling those in the land called the "Arena". Soul stared at the wooden oak door looming high above her, body trembling, blood still oozing from the wounds she had gotten from her last fight - the one she had apparently 'won'.

But won what? Weren’t all these fights just punishments for their wrongdoings? That was what they had told her - that was what they had said! And they were always right, weren't they? The Judges, she meant. Those that had taken her in after she failed to defend her family from the surprise attack they had pulled. They gave her a home, gave her a reason to live, dealt out the punishment fairly. Today, they said, after they said she had won the fight. Today, she had atoned for her sins and her debt had been repaid in full. She was free to go. And go she had to, for they kicked her out of her home.

It wasn't ideal, the home. There was no freedom - but what was that word? She knew it, in the dusty memories from long ago. Freedom... Where one never had to answer to another... Or was what she had freedom? Everything else, the life she had led in the past, was it just a dream? Or was it real?

Something trickled down her leg, itching in the process, and absentmindedly, Soul looked at her shoulder, the flesh hanging off, ripped and torn into an unrecognisable shape. It would leave a scar, of course. But that didn't matter. It was part of her punishment. She deserved it.

She stood there, blinking in stupefied confusion as she stared blankly at the door, waiting for it to be opened; waiting to be told it was all a joke. But hours flew past, night came and went, and still, none appeared. At last, hunger and exhaustion drove her from the spot. Soul tottered away, her strides no longer graceful and fluid, but jerky and pain-filled. Each step was a torture, every breath seared her lungs, but still, she pressed on.

As she traveled to some unknown destination, she thought of nothing and everything. Her crimson pools were blank and expressionless, only sparking to life at some of the ‘new’ things, those that she had forgotten and had been wiped away from her memories. With an almost foal-like innocent curiosity, Soul approached them, shying away as her eyes filled with wonder and amazement. Now and then, a hoarse giggle broke out of her throat, before she stopped in pain.

Her stomach growled, and she was confused. Food. Water. She needed both. But there was none to be seen. No one approached her with the basic necessities. Soul looked around, uncertain. The land she had stopped in was a lush green, with the murmuring of rivers and suddenly, the loud, harsh voices of horses arguing among themselves.

Soul walked on, shoulders slumped now, for she had not slept in a day. No one had told her to. She didn’t know she had to. In a fog of tiredness, she emerged into a small clearing, where the large group of horses were standing, stalking and interacting with one another.

She stopped them, breath catching in her throat as her muscles instinctively tightened in preparation to fight. Was this it? The second part of her punishment? Was she supposed to fight them? Soul looked around, her red coat dull and matted, as she stared uncomprehendingly at them, confusion and fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

She didn’t move towards them, nor did she move away. Her harks were pricked waiting for the command to fight again, and receive her punishment – and dole out theirs.


_________________________

OOC :: Nice family, Phantom Very Happy Oh, and if you're not sure what I'm talking about with Soul, read her history! It's quite interesting, I think. And post with Ganymede when you can (: Can't wait to continue that thread~






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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Thu Nov 03 2011, 22:35

A black bolt shot down into the trees, twisting and dodging larger branches, and snapping others in two as the young stallion dropped to the ground. At the last instant he slowed himself, and landed hard, his hooves digging into the ground as he started galloping, then slowed to a walk.

He was pure black, aside from his eyes, which were bright violet, and his horn, which was a shining silver and gold. Small ears were pricked forward now, listening to the sound of many voices, mainly young ones nearby. Intrigued, the black stallion approached them, and came upon a sight that caused his blood to surge with rage.

Eight horses, including five young ones, ranging from foals to two year olds, were in the small clearing. An ugly mare, both in her stance and her appearance was watching the younger horses. A blood-red mare stood alert at another edge of the clearing, seemingly anticipating something, though the young stallion had no idea what it might be. A silvery maned stallion, looking to be just barely three, stood watching. However, the younger ones were those that caught the stag's eye. Most of them were thin and scared looking, every bit of their appearance suggesting the need for food and, what was more, safety. They were obviously related, but that didn't concern the black as much as the two older faes did, nor the presence of a younger stallion, blood-red and the only one of the younger horses who looked well-fed.

Melodia, he knew, wouldn't be able to stand for this type of thing, and neither would he. However, the violet-eyed horse sensed the need to deal with the matter delicately, or else bring an older and more experienced stag into the mix.

"Greetings," he said at last. "I am Hemlock, beta of Aonar Ciúnas, and first son of Fantasma and Nightshade. Who are all of you?"
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sat Nov 05 2011, 01:46

Defeat? No, I knew I would never see it, as long as I lived. I would have another wretched youth, I knew - one that evidently would turn out to be entirely too weak, just as the others had. Chance was the weakest, for there was not a masculine bone in him. At times I wondered if he was secretly a gelding that had no strength nor wit about the world.

I knew that they would approach, one by one and try to take my dearly beloved young ones away from me. I hadn't done anything wrong! No, of course not, I was just trying to train them for the world they would have to face someday. It was much harsher than I could ever hope to be. We had been here for about a year now, and I knew that the others would begin to notice the deteriorating condition of the foals. I had tried my best, god dammit! That bastard of a stag, Chance had finally moved on, traveling the sloping coasts. At least I still had control of the others.

Laughing to myself, I looked to my eldest, Imber. "Imber, you have been quite the bitch today, huh?" I whispered, baring my ivories like blades ready to cut as I dashed at her side. As I sunk my jagged ivories to her delicate ebony flesh, I felt her squirm and squeal. "Leave me alone, I am a mare now and will not put up with your childish games. "That's what Chance thought, deary...but I held him here until he was four years old," I laughed. There was no way the rotten bitch would leave me....unless she found love.

Ara stood away, watching with distant sorrow filled orbs. Her ivory pelt, laced with scars wrapped around her slender bodice glimmered when light touched them in the correct perspective. Always, she had been the weakest when placed in the way of her dangerous mother. Why she was targeted the most, the world would not know. Even though she was the smallest and most petite, that was not a grounds for underestimating her capability and skill in the fashion of mental capability. Oh yes, Aralyn knew very well of the insanity of her mother - her manipulative nature and of her hatred to all.

Nourishment deteriorated over the last year, and even though she was a yearling and depended not on her mother's milk, she was thinner than a rail. Cynjarah had monitored how much grass she could intake each day. Had to keep them weak....weak so they could not escape Ara imagined her mother saying with a monotone. That voice she hated so much filling her dreams with the darkest despair possible and murdering her hope outright.

Suddenly, the attention of everyone focused on the newcomer, a crimson fae who looked like a sun scorched portion of the earth. The very death of the earth she seemed to be, touched by soft flames that engulfed the soul as well as the form. Yet, something about the orbs that focused so keenly with certain terror and wonder told the youths that there was nothing to fear. Only the uncertainty of her personality without a doubt remained.

Safa watched her keenly, his light crystalline orbs not lingering. I knew that I had to do something about this, after all, he was two and of age of leave me technically. Safa was a kind stag, but he was also bull-headed like me and wasn't afraid to fight even the strongest of opponents. I only held Chance so long because of his inner weakness to protect what was his. "Safa, you go back to the herd, colt!" I spat, pinning my harks to my skull. I knew he would look for a way out of here, and she was his ticket. They would win if I did not remain strong, if I was not a good parent.

Suddenly, I felt hate override my will to think clearly. I lunged at the crimson fae, ivories bared and orbs gleaming with the killer instinct of a cougar after a rabbit. "You, mare have bit off a bit more than you can handle," I screamed, striking something solid and tall suddenly. Why, it was Safa. "You won't hurt her, mother," said her oldest son in the small herd. He glared down at her with bitterness, and a condescending look was just rolling from his eyes.

"You can hurt me. Hurt anyone else, but when it comes to her - you won't hurt her. I'll kill you before I let you hurt her, even though I don't know her......I want to know her," the young chestnut stag said finally, turning to the pretty crimson fae. She looked tortured, in other ways than we had. Everyone had their battles though, and why should he condemn her for being damaged when he was, himself? "Greetings," he said, blue eyes diverting to the ground as he bowed to her, tassels scraping the ground. "I am Sutāsāfā....but to you, just Safa," he said as he rose, a little bit of innocence and little bit of knowing in his mind. After all, he was still young...but not too young to know what his mother would ask him to do.

Slender in build was the colt, possessing quite purified bloodlines of the racers. Safa was the hue of crisp, perfect toast, the golden brown of his pelt reflecting copper. Like the metal, he was tough in spirit, uneasily defeated. Chance had been all too kind, but Safa was more protective over what was his. Already, he felt a connection with the fae. Perhaps, it was that lingering for adoration that she seemed to possessed. Perhaps,it was just the fact that she seemed to be just as lost as he was.

Little expression did he present but a smile, for he was attempting to read her personality like his brother had always been able to do. No, he did not have any special talents. The thought of his brother crept into his mind. I wonder what he's doing right now......thought Safa, awaiting her reply.

"I see you like her so much, huh??" I screamed, angered that he was taking his time to speak with the peasant mare. "You like her so much that you would betray me for her? I'll kill her! I'll rip the flesh right from her bones and make you eat it before I let you talk to her," I yelled, and I could tell that Safa was stifling cringing right before me. "You won't leave me, you can't Sutasafa. Now, I know I can't make you force her, but I will make your brother," I smirked. I knew Blood would obey me, for he couldn't possibly disobey.

In the meanwhile, the five younger ones gazed around and happened to spot an ebony alicorn stag headed directly for them. Sabine jumped at the idea of meeting the older stallion, for he looked just as she did! "Hello," she said softly, her earthy hued wings tucked by her slender sides. Being outspoken and a bit of a big mouth, she was the most undernourished of them all. Still, she kept her pride at hand, not letting the talent with word play that she had go at even the most strenuous times. Perhaps, she thought, this could be her way to freedom.

Sabine had always had an idea that she was being held against her will and that she would remain so until she got big and strong enough to fly away on her own. Or. Someone rescued her. The earthy hued filly bowed, her yearling skull scraping the ground. "We are alike. It is a pleasure to meet you, Hemlock. Aonar Ciunas? That is the land of the flyers! I always had this crazy dream that I would see a land with horses like me in it one day..." she sighed, looking to her other brothers and sisters.

Aralyn was shivering under a willow tree, looking depressed. She was getting weaker by the day, and even though she was weaned off of mother's milk, I never let her eat. Aralyn felt like she was going to die, and that would become reality if someone didn't save her.

Phylica had turned into a beautiful yearling, her ivory feathered tips tucked away neatly. Occasionally, she would flap them, but neither of the winged ones had the slightest conclusion as how to fly successfully. She wasn't the daring one of the bunch, so she wouldn't be the first to attempt it.

Usually, she stayed out of conflicts too. Fighting was not her genre, and making peace and keeping love between them all was what she always tried to do. It was not an easy task, considering all the pain and starvation that was occurring in their situation. Keep calm and carry on her hopes told her, but her despairs repeated themselves over and over again on the fact that she might never get to taste the bittersweet taste of freedom or walk in the pine covered forest without wondering if she was going to be killed for leaving her mother. Crazy. Her mother was crazy.

"Hi, Hemlock," she said, nodding to him, wondering if he, too would cause them despair beyond their wildest dreams. "I am Phylica, and that is Aralyn, the filly who is nearly too weak to rise from her laying down position," she said softly, hoping to get an idea of who he was by his words.

I felt so much hatred for them all! How dare any of them try to leave me? I was superior to all, didn't they know that by now? I was not going to be bothered by these childish games. "Blood," I sauntered over to him, mustering up a smirk. "Force the crimson bitch. Make her carry your heir," I knew he would. Oh, I just knew it.

Was it unknowing that I saw in his eyes, a moment of hesitancy? Blood turned his crimson skull to the ebony stag, pleading with orbs of gore. "She did nothing to me," he said, flames flickering dully upon the crest of his neck. Although he was the favorite and had to act so, the morality of the situation dawned on him like dew misting the short blades of springtime grass. Strong was he, the only strong one of the group.

"I cannot do that," he said neutrally, hoping to introduce himself to the stag. Could this really be the end of the malicious cycle.

"How. Dare. You?!" I screamed. My beloved, the only colt that mattered to me was turning on me! My eyes did not deceive me. I would kill him. I would kill them all. I bared my ivories, galloping up to my colt and clenching down on his neck. The taste of blood had eluded me for far too long.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sat Nov 05 2011, 10:56

Hemlock

The black horse had been about to respond to the younger horses, but as soon as Cynjarah rushed towards the red colt, he leapt at her, though he wasn't quick enough to stop her from sinking her teeth into the colt's neck.

"Come on," he said, baring his teeth at her, black harks flicked back. "I'll bet you can't fight a real opponent, now can you? Take me on, I challenge you. And, should I win, you'll leave this lot alone... For good." he was trying to get her to let go of the muscular young stallion, so that he didn't have to worry about accidentally hurting him. However, if he had to, he knew he couldn't hesitate to knock her away from the other horse.

Just then, another stallion appeared, as dark in color as Hemlock, and winged as well. However, he wasn't so careful. Scars as red hot as coals traced patterns along his entire body, and a glint in his black eyes suggested a hard life.

He glanced over at the various horses, then nodded to Hemlock. Despite the fact that he was more seasoned, he figured that Hemlock had a better chance against the raging mare than did he, thanks to the blessing of his horn. He would wait, and then if the younger horse appeared to need his help, he'd jump in.

Meanwhile though, he moved closer to the younger ones, in case their mother tried to come closer to them. He was quiet, intent on the scene unfolding between the three horses in front of him. The only way he showed his notice of the five near him was a quick nod, before returning his complete attention to the conflict again.

Hemlock spotted the strange stallion, but kept his focus on the red fae, anger evident in every fiber of his being. "Let. Him. GO." he commanded her, ready to attack if she refused to.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sat Nov 05 2011, 22:10

She stood there, her crimson eyes showing nothing but confusion and uncertainty, as the mare gazed around at the large group of horses. She could feel her whole body trembling heavily – could feel the weakness that crept up her legs, into her chest, making her heave for breath.

She didn’t understand what was happening. So she’d been absolved of all her crimes. What now? What was she supposed to do? She’d been in the Arena for years, ever since she had been a yearling. She had no notion of how to survive out here, in the wild. Was this what others called freedom? Because it seemed like hell to her.

And the group of horses in front of her – was this how a herd was like? A leader bossing all the other members about? And everybody obeying him or her out of fear? There was nothing special about it after all. Lowering her head, she kept a watchful glare on the group, feeling as though a part of her heart – or what was left of it – had shattered a little more.

She hadn’t realized, but throughout her long stay at the Arena, she had hoped… hoped beyond all hopes that after she had paid her due, she would be able to be normal. But if this was what herd life would be like, she wanted no part of it. She tried to urge herself to walk away, but something, some invisible force kept her rooted to the ground.

”Safa! You go back to the herd, colt!”

A loud, angry bellow coming from the lead female startles the mare, and she jumps up as though she had been bitten. Flattening her ears skittishly, she nervously sidesteps, glancing up – only to have her eyes locked upon two intense, beautiful blue ones. She almost gasped, but long trainings and admonishment kept her silent. Her huge eyes lingered on the young stallion’s burnished copper pelt, and the snow-white ivory that painted his crown.

Coming back to herself suddenly, she flinched, dropping her red eyes to the ground, ashamed. They had said that her eyes were testament to the blood on her body – her entire self was covered by blood she would never be able to wash off. Evil, they had whispered to her, as she had cowered from them. Worthless. Murderer. Blood begets blood. She would have to pay. And pay she did, as her crimson lifeblood spilled onto the sands of the Arena, in front of roaring crowds who chanted for her death and blood.

A terrible screech jolted her out of her bloody memories, and the mare jerked her head up in alarm. Her eyes widened, till the whites of the eyes showed, but she remained rooted to the ground, eyes huge as she could only stare and watch as the raging mare gallop closer… and closer… and closer…

A loud crash of bodies, and the enemy was gone. Soul flattened her ears, backing away slowly, muscles trembling from the effort. She could fight the mare, she was sure. She had faced much worse – brutes bigger, taller, heavier than her, twice her size, even, as she fell to the ground, ivories digging into her flesh, hooves pounding on her ribs…

Soul shook off the memories. She was grateful for the chance to repent, to feel the pain her family must have felt when she didn’t stop the attack. It was all her fault.

She watched as the brave young stag battled ferociously with his mother, preventing her from harming her. Her mouth parted in surprise and wonder, her head tilted slightly, almost child-like in her amazement. She saw his glance at her, heard his words, but did not believe them. Could not believe them. Was he for real? Did he mean what he said? Soul just stood there, speechless with shock, when he approached and bowed.

Absently, she could not help but notice that her body had not tensed up involuntarily when he approached, like it usually did with other horses. Sufa… The name resonated within her mind, and she suddenly found herself imbued with a longing, an ache to get to know him better. To travel with him, ease the loneliness and the pain. To protect him when he needed it. What was this?

Awkwardly, Soul nodded her head, her neck stiff and unused to the movement. She opened her mouth, ready to answer him with the required response – but she could not remember! Panicked, Soul scrambled in her memories, anguish flooding her features as she realized she could no longer remember that name her parents had bestowed upon her.

“I-” her voice broke, cracking and rasping from disused. Her throat hurt. She’d not needed to speak for years. Shame filled her eyes, as she blinked hard, bowing her head to the side. “I don’t remember my name. I’m sorry,” she whispered, cringing from the look of disgust she’d imagined his features to bear. The words felt strange in her mouth, as she rolled and tasted the alphabets.

Soul backed away, her eyes widening at the sight of his mother’s vengeful fury and her harsh, biting words. Anger swept through her veins, swiftly followed by surprise. Anger? She’d never felt it before… not since they had brought her to the Arena, away from her family.

Her crimson eyes narrowed, flashing with hate. Her legs quivered, tensing as she imagined rushing forward, ripping, tearing… blood spilling onto the floor, bright red against green. How the blood of the mare would stain her pelt, as so many others had before…

She snarled, the sound vibrating lowly in her throat. “Too afraid to fight your own battles?” Soul rasped, eyes burning with a feverish light, the battle fever upon her. She would take no insults from anybody else outside the Arena. They had no idea what she’d been through. Her crimes had been paid in full – they had no right to.
Her blazing eyes followed the mare over to another stallion – black and crimson, like her. Her eyes rolled at her words, and she pawed at the ground, mane whipping around her like wild vines. She imagined she looked quite wild now, but fighting – that was all she knew. She focused on the weak points – the ones that would cause the most pain. She knew them all – how could she not?

But to her surprise, the menacing looking stallion would not attack her. He openly defied his mother, and slowly, Soul straightened out of her battle-ready position. She barely noticed the arrival of the other two stallions, looking back over at Sufa uncertainly, self-doubt written in every contour of her face and expression.

Hesitantly taking trembling steps towards the handsome stag, Soul stopped a few lengths away, crimson locks covering her downcast eyes. She was terrified – not of him attacking, for she somehow trusted that he would not – but of rejection. She was sure her fragile heart would not survive the blow.

“I-”she tried again, racking her brain for the last time someone had called her name. Brows furrowed, she stared at him, before shaking her head hopelessly. She was too tired, too weak from the lack of proper nutrition and water. “I don’t remember,” she whispered again, eyes huge in her face. “But I like your name. It’s pretty,” she whispered, an awe-struck expression on her face, the staggering trust in her eyes as she handed what was left of her battered heart to the stallion in front of her.

She didn’t know what she wanted from him. All she knew… was that she wanted to be with him.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Tue Nov 08 2011, 17:30

Warmth rose in my cold, iced over heart, but it was not the warmth of love but the heat of anger, of death. I stood menacingly over the younger ones - they were my targets. Weak were they in soul and in structure. Oh, I could just slaughter them now for talking to that stranger stag. They were not like Safa, Imber, and Blood. They were not strong, not stronger than me.

"What did I tell you about talking to strangers?! You bitch, you horrible scum Sabine. I know you led this! I know it," spat I. Oh yes, I could tell she was the leader from the day she was born. And I hated her for it. Hated her to the core. I would kill that piece of dirt pegasus filly if I could only get my daggers into her spine, crimson spilling everywhere. I would love to taste her blood as I bit into her side, gore running all down my mouth. Almost reminded me of what I did to my last stallion. How weak had he been!

Phylicia cringed at something, maybe it was the look in my eyes that scared the pale chestnut filly. She never said a word, never even acknowledged her situation or how much pain I was causing her. I wanted to hear her pleas of hope, wanting to be free, but she never gave any. Was it the look in my eye that bothered her? Was she that afraid of me? She had better be. I would eat her and spit her out again.

-

The delicate filly glared back, menaced a little bit by all that was happening. Seeing just under a year of life, she had not had the taste of freedom on her tongue or roll in an open field of wild flowers. They had never seen the sunset on the tall ridge or a mountain or had the salty waters rushing against their hocks as the stood on the shore. Nothing.

Phylica hated her mother for what she was saying to dear Sabine, her beloved sister. If it hadn't been for Sabine, they would have all died! The pale chestnut filly had always thought her earthy hued sister to be top spy material, but it had never crossed her mind as a possibility until her sister had configured how they could sneak out to eat at night when the horrid bitch was asleep in her chambers.

"I don't answer to you," Sabine answered defiantly, stamping her delicate pillar to the scorched earth, where the sun had been consistently blazing all day. It tingled slightly from pounding it so hard, and she pinned her harks back. Being the smartest of all the yearlings and the one with the most talented mind, she knew that Cyn couldn't possibly defeat the brawny stag that stood before them all. "You will free us, I know," she said, lilac orbs shining with a graciousness that not many her aged could show.

All of a sudden, she rushed to Ara's side, the weakness setting within the ivory filly's slender pillars. "There's something wrong with her...she is very ill. I can feel the Grim Reaper's presence looming over her like a dark stormy cloud," she said, soft nose touching her sister's cheek lovingly. It was true, they may lose Ara due to the nature in which they had been treated. Oh, how she hoped not, for the conversations she had with Ara had been some of the best she had experienced.

"Please...please help us," the purple orbs gazed hopefully to the ebony stag's, whose orbs matched hers in hue.

Blood, in the meanwhile, was still in her clutches. Crimson fluid rushed down his sides, his pelt drenched with blood and salty sweat while he struggled to hold onto life. Would he never see the day his tainted bloodlines ran through the lines of young ones? Would he never see the day when he looked at a certain mare and his heart filled with infinite love? It seemed to be over before it began, yet he knew his legacy would forever remain in the minds of his sisters...his sisters and his brother, the only ones who seemed to care.

-

I stood in the silence, hanging onto his nape by my viscous ivories. Now, the blood was gushing, and I could feel its delightful taste in my mouth, coppery in taste. It was like the fuel that ignited my killing force, the taste of his blood. I knew I was dangerous. Hell, I even knew how insane I was, not that I would let on to these scoundrels. They thought I was stupid, which was good because they underestimated me. I was not dumb, and I did not fall for the normal pranks of the young colt or filly.

Finally, I dropped him, bones clanking to the ground after a struggle. All that was left of him was the defeated look that overtook his crimson orbs. He had been my favorite, my protege. Now, all that was left of him was blood pouring out of a barely beating heart. I would have finished him off, but somehow, it was more appealing to me to watch him suffer after he betrayed me so poorly. What poor judgment. He would be ruler of the world if he had stayed in my good graces! I suppose nothing good ever lasted forever. Even the best of the youths could convert to be weak and soft minded.

Speaking of those with a weak mind, my orbs fluttered to Safa, who was apparently trying to speak to the mare. I would deal with him later, after she saw how damaged he was and didn't want to be around him anymore. I knew that no one would love my darlings but mother, and they would die with mother. There was no way to get away from me, didn't they see? They were trapped here. Forever.

I was such a good caretaker though, I would mend to all of their necessities. They would know nothing more than necessities, for it was all I knew. From the first time I was bred, all I knew was what was needed, what was proper.

-

Daze. It had come over him like a pound of bricks falling over the side of a wall, crashing and shattering slightly but remaining intact. That was his mind, barely intact, just hanging by a cliff ledge. She was trying to push him over, to get him to succumb to her force, her almighty power of the ocean. I am god she whispered into the depths of his mind, causing his ivory flaked slender pillars to quiver with the anxiety that rushed all over his bodice. Safa couldn't tell if it was just a delusion or if it was - reality.

Glowering back behind him, his crystalline blue orbs seemed to be full of life for a second, all resemblance that a lie had ever been told to them disappearing in an instantaneous glance. Something hot and burning rose in his chest, a feeling of strength that he had not felt in a very long time. It was something incredible - hate! Hate, it was a word that they used all to often. They didn't hate her, they feared her, they bowed to her. No! You could not hate those that bound you because when one is bound, they have no room but to breathe. No room for love, no room for hate. When one enters, so does the other. When one diminished, you simply learn to miss the feeling. "I hate you," he whispered, death brimming thick on his vocals as he turned around, ivories gritted so harshly against his lips that he thought they would bleed.

Muscles seemed to grow where there were none. Years seemed to gain where there were none, and Safa felt like her was standing on mount Kilimanjaro on the back of Crepusculum for a moment as he looked down upon his mother. It didn't feel like he was looking up...but down upon the putrid beast that she had tried to make him, tried to make them all in her blind fury.

Why was he doing this? Why was he acting so ferocious around his mother now? What had given him this strength. Suddenly, his blue orbs diverted to the answer instantaneously. Her. It was her, all her. "Are you divine..." he whispered, not knowing if the words had actually slipped from his tongue or not. But he still turned around to her, the crimson beauty, a deer in the headlights expression splattered all over his face.

It was not her that he feared, but it was that knowledge that he feared to know. Safa wished his innocence would return to him, that the purity that laid upon his pillars would return to his soul. It would not happen, no, not under the watch of mommy dearest who played everyone to their last card, used everyone's water until the well of their happiness ran dry. Safa had seen others like this, users, who only cared for themselves and not others. I will never be like that he reprimanded himself, flicking his deep chestnut whipcord nonchalantly. But his motion was not nonchalant. He was not. Safa was a complete wreck. How long would it take for her to figure this out.

There was only one reason to try though. One reason to demand freedom, and that reason was that maybe, just maybe she wanted to be his friend. From the crimson tears that ran down his brothers pelt to the bones that stuck out on his sister's side, to the psychological effects one could see on them all, they were obviously abused. There was only one reason. To save them all. To save himself. To love, to love her with all the capacity his heart could muster.

As that horrible bitch approached, ordering his brother to mount the beautiful crimson mare, laced with the tears of discontent and fear, hate rose in his chest again. Oh, that wonderful feeling. Hate. Instinctively, Safa stepped before her, his side barely scraping shoulder as he stood beside her. "Not a step closer...," he said strongly, a snarl erupting in his voice. Not a step closer...or I won't be able to do anything to stop you he thought, orbs searching the ground, defeat hovering over him like a dark cloud of oppression. Nevertheless, his brother chose the high road, if not only in fear that they would never have a friendship again if he committed the deed. As he stepped back, Safa returned his direct attention to the beauty before him.

Safa stood, expecting to hear her say her name. Perhaps, it would flow easily off of his lips, like raindrops rolled off of his features in the middle of a spring storm. Maybe, it was something that explained all their sorrows in one word, or even two. The words she uttered took him completely by surprise though, they were so odd, he could hardly comprehend it. Still, it made perfect sense. Traumatic events took the strength, the memory and the wit from every one of them. How could he hold her to different standards?

Instead, the chestnut stag too a step closer and smiled a bit as he thought about what to say. "You will remember in time," he said softly, sympathy in his crystal orbs. "Instead of calling you by your true name, I will just use a word that describes you for your name," he paused for a moment. "So I will call you beautiful because you are the most beautiful I think I have ever seen," he smiled a bit, nervously, hoping for her response. "I will never hurt you like they did, whoever they are. I can just tell that you have been hurt like us. But I never will," he finished, looking to her hopefully. What would come of this? Would he finally achieve the freedom he had wanted so long? Would he find the love he had waited what seemed like a millennium for?
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Wed Nov 09 2011, 02:11

She smiled in pure, unadulterated joy at the sound of the chestnut stallion’s voice. It was warm and smooth – sincerity rolling off every syllable of the words he uttered. Soothing, even, and her harks involuntarily flicked forward to catch every decibel of his voice.

Searching her memory, she was sure that she’d never heard anyone speak like that to her before. Not demanding, not ordering, and not scolding. Just… conversing with her. It was such a change – but a good one, like warm meals and apples. A genuine smile erupted on her lips, as the young mare thought back to Safa’s chivalrous actions before – when he had stood up to his mother for her. Her dark red eyes were fixed on the handsome stallion before her, and already, all the movements and motions, even the very existence of the other horses had been effectively filtered out, leaving only him and herself.

It was not such a surprise, really, considering her background. She had had ample practice in the past, when the screams and cries of others had been too much to bear. It was far easier to tune them out, to keep herself safely entrenched in her head, to retain her silence in the face of taunts and jeers, of catcalls and cries for her death. She’d thought that she did not speak, did not react, it wouldn’t hurt so much, even though she was supposed to be paying for her crimes. Nonetheless, it had hurt – hurt more than any hoof or teeth could, when they pounded on her flesh, forcing her to the ground. It hurt something far more vulnerable, far more precious than mortal flesh – her heart, her spirit, her soul.

Shaking her head to dissipate the dark thoughts, the blood-hued mare smiled timidly at Safa, ducking her head at his words, a warm glow surrounding her. Beautiful? Was she really? She had never considered her appearance back at the Arena, mainly because there was absolutely no one to impress. But now… Her eyes traveled the stallion’s glossy chestnut coat and fine conformation, and she felt ashamed.

She did not need to see herself to know that her pelt was matted, her mane tangled, sores festering on her pelt. Scars littered her body – both old and recent, from her frequent fighting bouts with the other merciless horses. They had wanted their freedom so badly, so, so badly, she could tell. Their desperation and hate were overpowering, making her feel small and meek in comparison, and she had submitted to their slashing blows and gnashing teeth. She had fought once – just the once, and after that, she had never done so again.

Shuddering a little, she met the stallion’s lively blue eyes, and saw his hopes, his dreams, his desire to escape. What, she wondered vaguely, not breaking away from his gaze. What would he see in hers? For a moment, she considered asking, before discarding the thought as quickly as it had come. She decided she didn’t want to know.

“Thank you,” she whispered, digging her front right hoof into the ground anxiously. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” For truly, it meant everything. His kind words were like a balm to her anguished soul. Muscles she did not even know she had tensed, relaxed, and suddenly, she did not feel so very tired. She liked him, liked the handsome, intelligent stallion that had seemed to take an interest in her, and she him. And then self-doubt and worry popped in again, her self-confidence reduced to nearly nothing, disintegrated into dust, by months after months of jeering and mocking calls to a youngling without her family.

“But… Safa?” she queried tremulously. “You don’t have to tell me things for politeness sake.” She was a mess. The mare couldn’t even stand the round of her own voice – rasping and harsh, dry as sandpaper. Pushing forward, nonetheless, she quirked a quick smile, darting a glance into his seemingly smiling eyes.

“And I think you’re handsome,” she whispered, embarrassed. “Truly, you are like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Safa’s exterior was handsome, yes, but it was not what drew the hurt mare to him. It was it personality, his soul, the inherent goodness within him that let her trust him wholeheartedly. “Every part of you. Both inside and out.”

She stiffened, however at his next words. Meeting his eyes squarely, she tensed, looking at the emerald grass with downcast eyes. “They didn’t hurt me,” she whispered, even though the months of loneliness, of pain, of dark nights crying threatened to flood her mind. “It was my fault. It was all my fault. They were helping me.”

But did she believe it anymore? The words that had once comforted her, gotten her through lonely night and days, held her sane and strong, fell rather flat when said aloud. Hastily scrambling for something to say, she searched her mind for another topic where both of them could speak freely.

“You have many siblings?” The statement came out as a question, as the red mare looked away, finally realizing the existence of the other horses once more. She spotted the stallion – the red and black one – lying on the floor, blood streaming out of his nape and looked at him with emotionless eyes, before her eyes swept across the rest, landing upon the young filly who had collapsed.

It had never crossed her mind to extend aid to them – self-preservation still reigned within her, and it would be a hard habit to break. After all, why help others and risk your own life? It was survival of the fittest, where she had lived, and the mare had worked very hard to be the fittest. Still, an unknown, unfamiliar sense stirred within her breast, at the sight of the broken herd beside them. Her eyes darted back to Safa, intent, suddenly, because she knew that he was the only one she would fight to protect.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sun Dec 04 2011, 09:33

Innocence pooled at the edges of his eyes, brimming with joy as he looked over the crimson fae. Although her pelt was matted and sores scattered her thin bodice, not illuminated with shining brightness like his, she possessed a beauty that no one he had met before could compare to. Was it...her eyes? Those eyes that showed all, the willingness to progress and the hope to become healthy, to increase her beauty so all could see her perfection.

Perhaps it was just that this vixen was so......different than all the others he had met in his life. Not that he had met many pretty faes that would even give him the time of day. They saw him as needy, not as a survivor of many psychological and physical battles fought. Instead of being seen as strong, he was weak, for he had not the time to develop his muscles to rippling structures of granite under his soft pelt. All the others were strong stags of speed and endurance...and Safa felt but a colt standing next to them - the ones like his brother. Oh, how she would have enjoyed his company so much more.

No, everyone must seem like a god compared to puny, lithe Safa - the youth who could hardly even defend his own. There was no indicator of the future, whether a willful, free fae like Beautiful would ever come to acknowledge his yearning for her laughter, her friendship. With still lingering thoughts of his many defeats and the horrid twisted expression that Cyn held whenever she felt hate, he felt as if to weep. Defeated and futile.

But what a thing that would do to Beautiful! Safa could not bring himself to let her down, not even for a moment with his weakness - the weakness that she had caused. All to familiar were frequent beatings and the taste of blood within his own mouth. Only too frequent were the masses of swellings that existed within his ribs and pillars where she had so bluntly struck him. Even though the scars on the outside had healed over eventually, the dried blood washed away by rainfall and treading in the creek, they remained in his mind. Only Safa knew too well that they would never fade. Not now. Not in a hundred years or more.

In an instant, his orbs were livid, taking in every word she spoke. "Why, how could you say that?" he whispered, almost exclaiming his protest to how one could not find her beautiful. "I shall never lie to you, for you are the most perfect creature I believe I have seen in all my days," said the stag, moving in closer, as if to nudge her. "If only to see you once more after today would make my dreams complete," a smile, soft and subtle arose to his features, filled with kindness and love.

"Thank you, Beautiful. But my beauty nor any other's is compared to what I see before me. You have a certain liveliness that I have never seen," said Safa, brushing his soft pink nose against her matted pelt. A rush of warmth swarmed over his thinly bodice in an instant as he touched her.

Shaking his skull a moment, he gulped and said his next words. "I will never lie to you. I'll always tell you the truth. I promise," he smiled, the truthful smile of a youth giving his heart and soul to another prominent upon his features. Nothing meant more to him in this moment than her. Not even freedom compelled him to leave her behind, for she would go wherever he did - if she would. It was doubtful. Safa had never had the opportunity to speak to an 'outside' mare, let alone travel with one. The likeness that he would have the chance to now was slim, thanks to Cyn.

Docile in nature he was, and the young brute found himself quivering as he thought in his mind how to gather up the strength to speak to her more. It was not the norm for so many words to escape his lips in one sitting, and with his heart racing, he managed a 'thank you' to her, bobbing his cranium slightly at her gentle words.

"Yes...many," Safa replied abruptly, a little astonished at how quickly and nervously his words slipped form his mouth. Mother had always said that he was a failure and would ruin everything. Ruining everything, is that what he nervous mistakes had made? "I'm sorry...I-I'm just nervous talking to you! Beautiful, you mean everything to me...I haven't really been around anyone that listened instead of scolded me. I haven't met anyone that actually cared," he said, blue orbs blazing with life and passion.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Thu Dec 22 2011, 02:56

She felt… incredibly weary. Despite her youth, she knew that her appearance was that of an old hag – and her eyes even more so. She raised her eyes, scanning the small clearing automatically once more, before she turned her gaze upon Safa again. And for the second time, Soul found herself in awe of the handsome stallion standing before her. Her blood-red gaze rested on Safa, taking in his gleaming pelt. Wistfulness and sorrow battered her, and Soul shivered in the blast of cold wind she felt blow past her.

She had always considered herself a relatively good judge of other horses. She knew, that although the rest of the herd were not yet quite as tainted as their dam, Safa was the one that glowed most brightly. To have been trapped with that rubbish excuse of a mother, and to have turned out so... good. So kind-hearted. Soul shook her head in amazement, tresses swaying gently with the movement. He was so much stronger than her. So much stronger that she could ever be. Who was she even kidding, that Safa would even want anything to do with her? For the star's sake, she did not even know her own name.

Soul lowered her eyes, an unidentifiable emotion suddenly rushing through her. She... she wanted to know. She wanted to know who she was. Who her parents were. What her name was. Where she had come from. And oh, so much more! It was as though there was a big, gaping hole in her memory that she could not pass. Frustration stirred within her, and Soul sighed softly, flicking her ears before pushing it away once more. It was only a pipe dream - nothing more, and nothing less. No one would care anyway. Because no one ever did.

Loneliness wrenched at her heart, as Soul's gaze wandered once more towards the herd. They may have been ill-treated, but at least they had had each other. She jerked her head up, alarmed and instinctively flinching away from his passion-filled and fiery words. Confusion swirled through her, and Soul looked timidly into Safa's livid eyes, feeling her heart sink even lower at the anger in his voice. See? Even Safa was mad at her. She could never do anything right.

But his next words stilled her anxious fidgeting, and sent warmth into her body, She looked up with wide, shining eyes, peering through her blood-red tresses. "Really?" she whispered disbelievingly, taking an unnoticed step forward. "You really think so?" she asked again, her voice wavering with emotion. "You don't think I'm..." she trailed off then, not quite sure how to express it. But if he had known what she had done, would he still think of her as he did now? Would he still smile that warm smile at her? Comfort her? Soul quickly pushed those thoughts away, smiling shyly at Safa.

"I - Thank you," she murmured, licking her dry lips and lowering her head, feeling the soreness of her legs. "And I promise, I'll never lie to you too," Soul said, her crimson eyes wide and earnest as she looked at the handsome stallion in front of her.

Shaking the tiredness off, Soul threw her head up, flexing her neck, before freezing at his next words. She searched his eyes, but could sense no deceit within them. They were sincere, it seemed. Her mouth twitched into a small, understanding smile, as she locked eyes with the stallion.

"Oh, Safa," she whispered, shaking her head. "It is the same for me. You are the first that I've spoken to in many, many moons. Maybe... maybe we can learn how to live, together?" she questioned, eyes blazing with hope and the desire to try, just as his did.

For she knew now, with the new feelings coursing through her, that the life she had led before now was not living. She was merely surviving. And she wanted to know what living meant. To live the rest of her life with fulness. With Safa, perhaps, if he wanted to.

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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sat Jan 14 2012, 11:29

Safa felt his soul flying under the wings of compassion...not just compassion but love for this pure creature that life had cast wretched curses of hurt and agony upon. How could anyone dispute her perfection, the kindness that all of her words held. Neither of them remembered what it was like to be loved, yet they loved one another. Didn't they? Actually, he wasn't sure what he felt, never feeling love before. This feeling was new, it was different, but it felt like it was the first time he had ever felt anything.

The past hurt, all the abuse ringing straight and clear in his mind. Oh, how he wanted to forget, wanted forget every day that the pain had caused him to want to just die. He wanted to forget the wounds on his pillars and sides from laying upon the cold, hard terrain from being too weak to rise. Nothing had made him forget it, nothing had caused him to leave this world and go to another without any pain, without any death. Except her - she helped him forget. It was like a dream, no endings and no beginnings...

"You help me to escape...from this reality that I don't want to live," he whispered, leaning his maw close to hers and resting his cheek against hers. There was nothing but her now, now that they had each other.

How was this possible and more importantly, how did this happen? They hardly knew each other, yet they were here, speaking such sweet words and telling of their lives. But it felt so right, and they were so...connected. Safa could feel her frustration in not knowing her parents, not knowing her name, not knowing her background, but it was nothing to hold against her, for he knew little about himself either other than the life that he was living was wrong. They were lost together in an infinite forest where the memories they needed were the ones that they shared together, now. The only reason to search for information was to settle her racing mind, to settle the fire that was boiling within her - the need to know.

Did this mean that they were together in this? It was so much to take in, so much to process, but it was wonderful. How wonderful it was! "I don't think that you're..what? Perfect? Wonderful? Caring? Beautiful?" he asked, voice trembling as he said each one, pausing to take in a breath. "Of course I do. Nothing could change the way I feel about you. Someday, this will all be a distant memory - I hope. Beautiful, I will do all in my power to find out who you are," he said, promising with a nod of his skull.

Suddenly, the lank chestnut stag felt faint, felt as if the world was spinning before him as she spoke her next words. She couldn't possibly think the same of him! It couldn't possibly be the same. Safa felt his face become warm...from tears falling from his blue orbs to his cheeks, to the ground where dust rose with every tear fall. Happiness spread about him, and he came close to her, feeling her warmth as he nuzzled her vigorously, inhaling the sweet scent of her pelt as he caressed her. Safa's heart exploded with love as she confirmed what he had only hoped and dreamed of having for so many years. It was finally coming true, like the tales his older sister, Imber had told him when he was younger.

"I would love to live with you...it would be so much better than staying here," he said, a small smile overtaking his lips.

A sudden pang hit his heart as the fate of the others, his sisters and brother dawned upon him. "What of the others? Hemlock can probably take care of the younger ones...but Imber, my sister has nowhere to go. She has three years and I only two...surely she will meet someone.." he said, wanting to hear her opinion desperately about what to do about his siblings. He couldn't just leave them with the monster!

OOC: I lovvveee this thread(:
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Mon Jan 30 2012, 18:29

OOC: I've neglected this, I'm sorry!

Hemlock

The black horse stepped towards Cyn, his harks still flat against his head, his teeth bared. "Get out of here, before I show you exactly how dangerous an angry alicorn can be. From this point on, any one of your children has my protection, so long as they want it. So if you even think about hurting a single one of them, I swear I'll rip you to ribbons and feed you to sharks." By the time he'd finished, he was standing right in front of her, his violet eyes flashing with anger, his horn shining a deep, dark red, the hue of blood.

"Now, will you leave these young ones peacefully, or will you insist on being humiliated and killed?" he knew she was probably a fair match for him physically, since from the looks of things she had more battle experience. However, he had a few advantages... Flight, and the ability to not only gore but burn things to a crisp with a single slash from his horn. And at this point, he was probably angry enough to do just that to the red mare before him, if only so that no other foal would suffer from being born to her. The black didn't look down at Blood, his light eyes stayed averted, feeling a twinge of pity at his fate. For a moment, he wondered if he could heal him, but that wasn't one of the gifts he had inherited from his unicorn-like magics.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Fri Feb 03 2012, 19:22

Sabine



Innocence swelled in her tiny heart, tears threatening her crystal orbs as she struggled for the strength to continue. They were more important than her - it did not matter how much her ribs showed...or how the breaths came more infrequently! No. It mattered not if her gentle companions soared upon the wings of safety and swiftly escaped from danger. Pain would awaken her from this dream and return her to the malevolent beast that was her mother.

Nothing about this was normal, this feeling where you could hardly breathe. It felt like wasps were stinging her lungs, filling them with venom, lies that surrounded her. A cloud of dust on the horizon in which she would only be in a world parallel to this for all eternity. Oh, she had been told time after time that the misery would constantly consume her until she gave in, gave up, flew apart. Until her bones were snapped and only shreds of her former self were left, she would not let her soul die. With nothingness, there was no pain - but there was also no hope for the future. How horrid...

Ara would die. She would die and the earth hued filly would be left all alone to suffer in her own despair. "You must....you must save us," she whispered, feeling so much smaller, weaker than she knew she was. Feathered wings of wood hue flapped with futility, her fatal mistake being youth as her siblings struggled behind her. The youth felt responsible for their possibly demise...


Aralyn

Quivering were her tiny foolish muscles as she stood before the bay creature, and she feared her. Ara feared the world, and for some reason, because of this, it felt as if it could walk all over her tiny, demolished frame. Scabs laid over her petite frame, the light bones like feather, where she had been persecuted for having life in her veins. Bruises, dark purples and greens beneath the pelt, spread pain and misery throughout her. Walking. It was a torture device that god created - running, it was hell. There was no way to fight the inevitable circle of flames and darkness that seemed to loom over her cranium so definitely.

The others, they looked to her with a shot of sadness traveling up their spines, she knew. Ara's condition was less than exemplary, especially for being one so young. The milk...oh, she would die without it she knew. She herself, could not wait until she didn't depend upon the savage fae for anything but not to kill her today or tomorrow. Tomorrow was a mystery, and whether she would live or die was not set in stone. Sometimes, she wished she could be a strong as her sister, Sabine or as old as Chance, where he could go his separate way from the family and leave them all behind in an instant....or even Blood, well liked by mother. Hell, he was the prodigy of the entire herd, what she had wanted for so long. Even Calandra and Safa were better off - at least they didn't still have to nurse! How lucky they were. Cursed fate.

There was no way out of this collapsing dome, the ceiling coming down on her with every stride she took. Those bright lilac pools shone less brightly everyday. Threatened by death, they clung onto the very essence of hope, of wonder. Keeping her innocence and her pride was essential to surviving this difficult part of her life. If only mother would just let her go with the ebony stag.

Who said he was any better though? For all young Ara knew, he could kill her and her siblings and send them through just as terrible torture they were receiving now. But it couldn't get any worse, she supposed, so why not just take the chance? Oh, what if he actually gave them a home, gave them something to live fore?


Blood


I was the best liked, the best known by all - for I was simply meant to be a king. Well, what if I didn't want to do that with my life, what about that? Maybe, I just wanted to be away from everyone and make some of my own decisions. Everyone told me I was simply taking my mother for granted and that I should be delighted that I was privileged with things my siblings weren't. Yes, it was true. My life wasn't nearly as bad as theirs, but I still felt crushed under the weight of the world. I felt like I had to live up to these high expectations and perform to be the best of all. Why be the best when I can only be the best I can be?

Torn between right and wrong, I was. It was like being between the sky and horizon, lingering like a ghost upon the silver plains. There was no one, yet everyone was watching, an actor in her play. I was the main character in her evil scheme on the world though. I was her play on words, her only shot at victory. It was scary to think that I had been what she was waiting for all along.

The wounds on my shoulder hurt, but I would press through them. I knew I was strong, and I was becoming a stag, one who should always be courageous and strong. "Part of growing up is doing the right thing," I struggled for my breath, ragged from the pain she had inflicted upon my shoulders and back. "And I've realized doing the right thing is going with Hemlock. I must protect my sisters. I see the error of my and your ways, and I must correct this evil you have done to them. You are wrong," I felt myself spit, flames breathing upon my nape as I spoke. My crimson orbs shimmered with glittering anger.

"I can call you mother no more," I finished, stepping over to the horned stag. We were allies now, that I knew. I was young, but I could fend for myself. It was Sabine, who thought she was so strong yet knew not her own weakness and Aralyn who thought she was weak and knew not of her strength that I feared for. They were the ones that my mother was intending to kill in a week's time so she could make he heir to her title and help me to conquer the king of the lands. Now I knew that the title was not mine to take, and I would be happy with what the gods had intended for me. I wasn't the smartest or the strongest, but I could surely hope to be the stag, sometime in the future with the biggest heart....


Cynjarah


How dare he? How dare he betray the one who she had given her aid to? Who she had given everything beneath the sun to and conquered the moon to give him life. In her world, the autumn leaves had fallen for him, and the skies were blue to please him. Betrayal. How could it be? Cyn felt that she deserved so much as a nurturing mother for her most youthful of the bunch. The rest were useless pieces of trash who seemed to condemn her to mockery everywhere she went. Why couldn't they have all been perfect exampled children like her Blood used to be?

First hopes, crushed. All but one had succumbed to the goodness of the earth and their putrid biological contributor. He was disgusting, a foul beast - you would have thought he was the god of all illumination. Of course, Cyn knew she was the most powerful in their small gathering. Not even Chance posed a threat to her safety, even though he had already heeded the others' warnings to leave and not return to the small group of demented foals. If she was less kind, she would have abandoned them long ago and let the vultures take care of what was meant to be. It was obvious the dished skull ivory filly wasn't going to survive much longer. Not under the evil fae's watch, that is. She honestly didn't care what happened to the incompetent beings, just as long as she didn't have to see them anymore.

But why give her offspring to the world? Obviously, living with her had been the ultimate test of their courage...strength, speed, knowledge, and character. It would only add to the side of light to allow them to travel with the burly young stag. He had good intentions, of course, but he wouldn't get the chance to take her offspring. Cyn was naturally selfish, and the odd looking older thoroughbred fae had been around the block a time or two when it came to stags. This one, though, was an offspring of that idiot, Fantasma, and was bound to be persistent. Might as well just get it over with.

"Me humiliated? Me killed? Sir. I do not know what you think gives you the right to march in here and demand to have my children, but you'd best leave. It will not be me that ends up with the short end of the bargain here. It will be you. So you might as well leave," she sneered, a grin that looked too similar to a grimace appearing upon her maw. Hatred coursed through her veins, and heat raised from her. Even though she was a normal, average mare, she seemed to levitate with power as the sun shone upon her dull pelt. Dapples, dulled with coarse pelt were apparent, and her orbs of deepest coal glared menacingly at the opponent.

"You will lose, colt. I'd hate to tell your father of your fate...." she said, encouraging the battle.

OOC: Ugh soo long. 1635 w/o coding or ooc.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Fri Feb 03 2012, 22:47

Hemlock

He smiled slightly, his violet eyes shining. "Oh, I'll leave alright, but they're coming with me, and should you try to stop them from leaving you, the vultures will get a very tasty snack, which I'm sure they'll appreciate. And should you actually manage to kill me, you coward, you won't be the one to tell Fantasma of my fate. If nothing else, you wouldn't want to go anywhere near his kingdom, just simply because of Nightshade. She wouldn't be too happy if you killed me... She's a bit protective and all that." the black wasn't about to fight her, not unless he had to, despite the fact that every single muscle in his body was screaming for action. He knew that there would be other fights soon, and he wanted to leave in relative peace... Not that he was expecting that to happen.

Still, with his horn lowered slightly, in case of an attack at him or the foals, he backed off, towards the river, nodding slightly towards Blood. "We should cross the river," he said to the bloodied young stag. "I know of a mare, one who's own foal has left her, who still gives milk. Otherwise, the journey back to my home will be much, much more difficult. As it is..." he shook his head a bit, knowing that they'd probably need to stop in The Gemdas on the way. Fortunately, that would give him a chance to catch up with some news, and also see his queen's sire and dam, the betas.

"Now, if you're quite done wasting threats, we'll be off." said the ivory-hued alicorn, nodding his head slightly to Cynjarah, as if they'd just had a pleasant conversation. "Feel free to drop in anytime you want to duke something out though; I have a feeling that that's one battle I'd be more than happy to deal with."

So saying, the young beta turned most of his attention to the young horses, though he kept a bit of his focus on their dam, not turning his back on her for an instant. While he saw that Blood was a strong stag in his own right, he doubted that the younger horse would be able to beat her, and he didn't want to see another ally gone, especially under the circumstances. Why do some horses have to be completely insensible sometimes? He wondered, his right eye on Cynjarah, while his left was focused more on the starved foals. Now, he knew, the question would be how fast he could get them across the river. Once they were that far, they would probably be able to make it to his latest set of allies, and from there, it would be safe to home, unless something unexpected cropped up on the way.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sun Mar 11 2012, 03:26

Oh, she could hardly believe that she was here – that this, this was real. That Safa was real. That the kindness and warmth he had shown her were real. That the tentative friendship that they had made was real. Happiness – such happiness – that she could never remember experiencing welled up within her, bubbling joyfully within her veins.

It was such a strange, foreign feeling, that Soul could feel herself being struck dumb for a moment, before an exuberant smile stretched across her scarred maw, crimson eyes shining with wonder as she gazed at the young stallion that stood opposite her. Exhaling shakily, the mare closed her eyes, an involuntary shiver wracking through her body at the close proximity with Safa. Her heart seemed to beat faster, at a steady rate of galloping hoofbeats.

Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.

“Safa…” she whispered, a tear slipping from her tired eyes as her voice cracked. She tried to find words, any words, to express her emotions to him after his sweet and tender – unbelievably tender – words to her. But she could not. Whatever grasp of words she had, they were undoubtedly insufficient. So she said nothing.

Truly, what the Judges had said must have been right. Surely, she had paid her dues – her punishments were now over. She could be free – she was allowed to be happy again! Sweet, sweet joy. It hummed through her, coaxing a fire in her blood that she had not felt in years. Already, she felt stronger, better – as though she could have run to the ends of the earth and back; as though she could have climbed the tallest mountain; as though she could have flown to the stars.

She returned her gaze to Safa, never taking her unblinking eyes off the stallion. He was so, so kind to her. So gentle. Unexpectedly, she felt her throat clog up in emotion once more, and she took a hitching breath, willing to tears that threatened away.

Then, out of the blue, fear entered. She gazed up at Safa with large, trusting eyes – if he were to leave her, to reject her… She did not think that she would never survive the blow to her fragile heart. But Safa wouldn’t leave her, would he? She could trust his word. He’d promised… He’d never, ever lie to her. He’d said so himself.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Soul felt a tremulous smile creep across her features. “Oh Safa…” she whispered, her eyes glittering with tears. “Thank you,” she breathed into him, as Safa approached her enthusiastically, nuzzling her with affection. “Thank you. Thank you.” Her voice was shaking, she noticed.

“Don’t leave me, Safa,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his wither. “Please-” her voice broke. “Please, don’t ever leave me.”

She felt as though a hole in her heart had been healed by Safa’s presence alone. Inexplicably, she felt so much calmer, as she felt the europhia from his declaration sizzle through her veins once more.

She was loathe to pull away, but she did so at his words, gazing quizzically up at Safa. “Your brothers and sisters?” she asked blankly, barely taking the time to sweep a glance at the rest of the broken herd. She heard faint sounds of arguments drifting off from there, but Soul ignored that. They posed no imminent threat to her, so there was no need to bother about them yet. But Safa… Safa was… concerned about their well-being? Wasn’t securing his own safety enough?

They could slip away now – they could! Nobody would pay them any attention. They could run and have their happily-ever-after. Just like those stories. Then she paused, frowning on consternation .What stories?

Shaking her head, Soul smiled and nodded at Safa’s words, a terribly confused expression on her face. She didn’t understand what he wanted… To take the rest with them? But how terribly impractical that would be! Why bother about the rest? Wasn’t their own safety the most important?

But if that was what Safa wanted…

“They… they could come with us?” she said, her voice lifting up, as though in question. She furrowed her brows, staring up at her new friend.

If that was what it took to make him happy.


(OOC: I'm terribly sorry! I just haven't had the muse to make a long enough post ><)
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Thu Mar 29 2012, 19:49

Safa


Their future was a uncertain clandestine, bright hope seeping through the weeping walls of oppression that had enclosed upon them. Vision of life and true spirit was blurred, mother nature hiding behind clouds of guilt. Shimmering orbs felt a thousand lies releasing themselves, for the truth had prevailed - it...well it was over. Yet it was not, for there were others still that hurt for her sick joys.

Guilt welled within him, emotive orbs glancing between his love and the ones he would risk it all for. He could leave now if he wanted, throw away all his sorrows for all of eternity, but was that what he really wanted? To leave poor innocents alone in this cold world to tough it out on their own? It had been hard enough seeing the silken tresses of his brother flowing in the wind as he traveled on silent pillars to a terrain far away. A place where peace would behold him happiness and a life, yet he had abandoned the only relatives he had. Safa was intent on not making the same mistakes.

Fluttering like a drum was his heart, nearly uncontrollable as he glanced back to Soul. It was difficult to comprehend the extent of the control she possessed over him - it was like...she owned him. And this was absolutely true, for he would lay bodice down and die before a pinch of harm would befall her. His lips quivered as he prepared to speak, a smile overwhelming him as he attempted to say to her what he felt. Muscles twitching slightly with the utmost of nervousness, he touched her cheek with his maw. Golden orbs filled with bitter-sweetness as he wished to leave this terrible place forevermore and begin his life with the most wonderful mare...someone he finally cared for.

It was hard to believe that he could feel this way about someone! Astonished, he took a step back, orbs glittering with opposition. "No, no beautiful! You have no need to thank me, for it should be I thanking you. You have made me truly...happy. For the first time in my life," he smiled, a new liberation singing in his tones as tears of freedom caressing his cheeks.

"I will never leave you. But you must promise the same to me, for I feel I would die without you," he whispered, pain shooting in his chest as he imagined such a thing. Selfless to her, selfless to nature in all her proximity the most beautiful maiden fair like a violent petal of fragile flower.

His heart pounded like a mild stone caught in a torrent of emotion, hardly surviving to see the light - the truth, which stood before him. To be seen as noble, one must first commit such noble deeds. Abandoning such innocent weak creatures would hardly be the correct thing to do. On the other hand, the young stag was not sure how much his heavy heart could handle with caring for them and such.

Quietly, he shook his skull slightly, pondering all the options. "Perhaps, we will see them well on their way with this Hemlock fellow. He seems quite trustworthy, being the son of a noble king," he paused, turning to the ebony one. "Please take good care of them and do take care not to get killed by my mother. I would help you in the conquest of killing her, but I feel that you long to see her blood shed," he said sharply, a hint of a smile following his words. Safa knew that many yearned to see her die, but none seemed to want it more than Hemlock after witnessing what he had.


Cynjarah


A snarl arose deep in her throat, growling with the lingering want to taste his blood. Oh, how they never ceased with their testing of her patience - did they not know that it was only a matter of time until the sleeping giant awakened and blood poured from their veins? Like a hurricane quenching the life of leafed creatures, she would descend upon them with grace and fury, relinquishing them of their life forevermore. Twisted horns would quiver from her touch, and the seas would rage at the mentioning of her calling. Who was this Frenzy? The true queen was Cynjarah.

"I am no coward!" she spat, pillars bounding to meet him skull to skull, deep soulless orbs locking on with his. What an ultimate insult just spilled from his lips, his visage calm about the fatal error he had made. Large skull slammed against the side of his cheek, hot air releasing itself from her flared nares. Every fiber in her bodice pulsed for war, for the thrill of the chase and the challenge that would determine her fate as the barer of these souls to the world. They, one day would be her, in a newer form, for that was the plan! To create an alliance to shatter all defenses of enemies, like this intruder that attempted with futility to take her children from her. Perhaps, the same would descend to him - a life for a life.

In pure rage, she rushed over to the ivory filly, violently taking it's crest in her maw and twisting violently. They would feel her wrath, for if she could not have the children, no one could. Thrashing, the filly attempted to escape, breath rushing from her as her life hung in the balance of the moment. As she clung to it, it began to become a more distant memory and a less hopeful fate.

"I will kill them all," she said, orbs fixed on Hemlock sternly.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Fri Mar 30 2012, 14:31

Hemlock

As Cynjarah slammed her skull into his cheek, he held firm and pushed her back, her teeth cutting a thin slit, which dripped blood. As she grabbed hold of the young white fae, Hemlock spun, and slammed his hooves into her side, before stepping between her and her foals. "You'll never get to them again, Cynjarah." He said, his wings closed tightly to his body, his body almost entirely still, waiting for her to attack again, to give him one final reason to end her worthless life. "Even if you kill me, another will come. You'd have to kill every single one of my kind before you got even close to touching these foals again."
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Fri Mar 30 2012, 19:29

It was a challenge that the futile brute wished for, yet it was defeat that would grasp its rough hands around windpipes, choking off the oxygen until breath flowed no more. Intricate were the weaving of emotions that circulated within the rather small group, and they, individually, were no more than single blades of grass in the savanna. Cherished was life only by one or the other, and even that was untrue in a case such as the one they were faced with. Truly, if her children had been worthy of each name, each trait she had hoped for, they would had not been in the position they were today.

Blood dripped from the nostril of the spotted youth, her orbs lacking dullness as the earth hued fae centered in. Ivories bared, she wished to finish what she had began - if only not to exemplify her intent and strength. And too, another would fall on this summer day - the ebony, and the world that he knew would weep, but he too was an insignificant blade of grass and they would see light again in time. On the other hand, the one, so frail and youthful, would not see the light of another day and would suffer, silently mourning all the moments she had spent in her grasp, all the days she had wished for freedom but had received none. Who were these gods she had faith in, this king? They did not deliver her from her fate - death did.

Softly, Ara breathed, gasping as she coughed up crimson blood, falling upon the plant-life beside her as she screamed terrified. Every fiber of her was tense, on the brink of letting go. Wasn't that the easy route, just to give up, to fall down and accept what was coming to you? Ara had no fight left, she had no life, and with that she did let go. Everything was left behind. All the memories. All the pain. She was an angel, floating to where she was loved.

With one swift movement, the deranged fae reared, screaming her conquering words to the wind as she came down upon the bodice and split her spinal chord. "That is to show you what will happen to you if you disobey me!" she screamed, howling with pride and triumphant nature. And why? Because, she had taken the life of another, one who had a future. Pride shown in her brown-golden orbs as she pranced around good-naturedly, sickening to any creature that watched. But, she was met by light turquoise orbs.

"You are sick," she murmured, defiance shining in her orbs as her ebony form swiftly tread close to her mother. "Aralyn did nothing wrong...and you killed her. You will die for your wrongs to my sister, for you are no longer my kin," Imber snarled, intentional about the death. No longer did she fear blood. No longer did she fear defeat or sorrow, or pain. Or anything that normal horses were afraid of! Nothing was normal, for her life was forever scarred by the eternal darkness that stood before. Never would she forget that horrid creature screeching before her, the blood gushing upon the earth. It was a battleground between nature and nurture. Which would win?

Cynjarah sighed sarcastically as the pathetic sissy spoke - what a pity that he would soon be frolicking with her daughter. Perhaps, they could even be friends! She laughed at the thought, relishing to see him twitch upon the earth.

"And they shall die. Just as you shall!!" she screamed, launching her bodice at his jugular, hoping to pierce it with her razor sharp ivories. Nothing could stand in the way of her diabolical plans. Oh yes, she would win - and she would do so in style.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Fri Apr 06 2012, 06:13

She had eyes only for Safa, her crimson eyes filled with blind adoration at his words, soaking them up like a wilting flower would a morsel of rain. She would do anything, anything at all for him. Just to see him happy. Just to see him smile. Her small, beaten heart ached with a sharp pang, and Soul felt sorrow seep through her. Safa deserved so much more. So, so much more than what he was getting now. A broken, barely-functional, barely-grown mare leeching onto him, grasping at him like mold does bark, draining him dry... Grief filled her eyes, as he eyes lowered in shame. She couldn't even do anything for him. She didn't know how to survive out in the wild. She'd die, taking him along with her!

Harshly, she stopped this train of thought, eyes welling with tears at the tenderness in his words, gazing across to where some sort of argument was taking place. If he wanted her... If he didn't want her to leave him... One look into his bright, determined eyes, and she knew she'd never be able to say no to him. "I-I promise," she whispered uncertainly, the words heavy and tasteless on her tongue. She shouldn't have made this promise! She's die, she'd leave him, and he'd hate her forever. And that, more than anything, she couldn't bear.

As for the rest of the herd... she could care less about what happened to them, as long as she and Safa were safe. Smiling up at him, absolutely and inexplicably relieved that they would not be journeying with them - would not be seeing her weak, judging her, accessing her for her skills... "Thanks you," she whispered up at Safa, before her eyes rounded, suddenly realising that he might not have understood her feelings towards them. He might take her words as-no, She clamped down onto her thoughts, smiling at Hemlock.

A few sharp words, a few scathing threats - that was all that was needed for a fight to begin. Spinning round in terror at the all-too-familiar noises, Soul reared, shrilling a despairing cry of grief, before dropping to her hooves and blindly dashing towards them. They had said-they had promised she was out of the Arena! That she'd no longer have to fight again. That there would be no more Judges, no more Observers betting on who would win and who would lose. No more mocking taunts or screams of bloodlust. No more all-consuming pain of a broken rib, or the terror when they brought stallions - fully-grown stallions out to fight her when she was far too young.

Her eyes clouded with desperation, she could hear nothing but the thumping of her own heartbeat, as she spun around to face Cyn with a vicious war cry, hooves flailing and eyes alight with fear and dashed hopes. It was just another cruel, cruel trick. She barely felt hooves clip her as she fought, teeth gnashing as she launched herself at the other mare, trying to take hold of her jugular.

For she had realised that this fight, like so many others, had to end in death.

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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Tue Apr 10 2012, 08:37

Hemlock

The black sidestepped Cynjarah as she attacked, then turned to slam his hooves into her side, before leaping at her exposed throat, his dark eyes gleaming with bloodlust, ignoring the crimson fae who attacked on Cynjarah's other side as he brought his hooves down onto the cruel mare's back, his wings beating in time to his racing heart, trying to push her back from the still-warm body of Ara and the other, still living, foals.

His horn glowed darkly as he fought, and soon razor-sharp roots flung themselves out of the ground at his enemy, avoiding with ease the movements of Cynjarah's other attacker, their creeping tendrils trying to wrap around her legs, to hold her still so that the black stallion could finish the battle, once and for all.

((Sorry guys, no muse right now Sad...))

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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sun Jan 06 2013, 06:10

Bump? :3
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sun Jan 13 2013, 21:04

Safa


There were some times when one knew what had to be done, and he knew that only he had the antidote to the venom that coursed throughout her bodice during the tumultuous years of battle and blood. Some days, she would remember the pain of the starry nights where she had not the notion nor heart to break free and find him but he would always be there to smooth over the rough edges that had been created through years of battering. From the storms of darkness, he would create a new light that could only be shared between the two of them. It would be divine light, that no one else could see until they looked deep within themselves and found that one that could melt their hearts or choose to leave them, bloody and torn.

Delicate were the weavings that bound them together, and he felt that if he pushed his love upon her too soon that they would be break. And he would be left with nothing but soul shards like she had been left with. He would be her nurse - her savior...but only if she would open her heart to him and let him see everything that it allowed him to. The past would be eradicated and a new past would beginning, starting upon this day.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his orbs gleaming into hers with the passion that a fairy tale novel might withhold. He felt as if he was using her love for his own pleasures though - to make him feel as if his horrid past had not existed. It had though. And she made the night turn to day, made the seas of fury turn to waters of peace in his mind. "I'm so glad. I want you to stay with me forever, never to leave my side...unless you wish to. Then, I would let you leave," he said softly. No, he would not hold her as a captive slave. It would kill me if you left though. i wouldn't cry...I would die without you, beautiful he thought to himself, knowing he didn't have the audacity to speak the words himself.

Still he thought of his siblings, and he was loyal to them almost as much as he was to his beautiful fae. Soon, though they would be free of the hatred Cyn had bred. What of poor Sabine, his little sister? And of Imber? She did not have a mate. No one had come to claim her as a love. She simply stood alone, as did Calandra. How he wished a prince charming would come and sweep them off their feet....

Before he knew it, a war broke out and all of a sudden his Beautiful went berserk, flailing her daggers at mother and fighting with all her might. "No, Beautiful! This is not our fight!" he raised his voice, something he promised he would never do. How harsh had his words been to her?


-

Cynjarah


Cyn was extremely angry as she quietly stood, contemplating the opposing party's attacks. Although old, there was still a kick to her that she had hardly ever needed to show as battles like this were uncommon. It was a shame...that a mother's children would not serve her until they had taken their last breath. Oh well...perhaps, she would find a sire that would give her the constant children that she desired - ones that served her evil needs.

Hemlock's attack with his hooves slightly scraped her side, for she moved, just not far enough away. A small bit of blood trickled down her side, but the pain nor the injury was substantial. Actually, she could hardly feel it. As he lunged at her throat, she side-stepped him, twisting away to attack with her back hooves towards his belly as he reared up, intending to come down upon her back. Agility was her main ally in battles, and she turned to face the fae that also attacked her. If she could fend off the attackers, she might be able to turn her children to the dark side.

The fae dashed to her, knowing that she needed to take this fight close and personal. As she neared, the fae nicked her shoulder, though not bad. She flailed her daggers at her skull, hoping to smash it in, in one fluid movement. She twisted attempting to take a bite at the fae's haunches. That was just a warning. If the fae didn't stop, there was more from her to come. Her fight to pick was with Hemlock, not the one her son was infatuated with.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Sun Jan 13 2013, 21:30

A tall bay stallion stood off to one side, well hidden in the trees. In silence he watched the goings on, and saw Hemlock and a random other mare appear after a while. Soon though he was able to make up his mind who was the most interesting in that herd for him.

It was the black filly, with the white splattered on her body. She was the one who had his eyes on her. As Hemlock and the old mare who seemed to be all of their mothers engaged in a fight, he stepped out of the trees, walking over towards her, neighing in greeting softly as he did.

Never had he managed to find a mare for himself, others always stole them away. But this time, he felt that this time, he the son of Ashton and Cirrus Cinnamon, would be able to finally earn the right to have a filly to call his. One whom he could care for and love.

Quietly, the black stallion walked towards her, not wanting to frighten them. He nodded in acknowledgement in Hemlock’s direction, not wanting to distract him. No, he did not want to cause trouble, and that was something he hoped she would understand.

He stopped when he was near her, for a moment just watching her, thinking how best he should introduce himself. At least Hemlock should not have trouble with his being there amongst all these others who were around his age and older.

The black and red horse though he was a little worried about. It was clear he was the brother of the filly whom he sought to talk to. He was not one who wished for a fight, but if he could, he would like to talk to her. Keeping the other colt in his sight, the black horse spoke.

“Hello.”


((eesh 307 words and no ones here for it lol))
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Mon Jan 14 2013, 01:48

She knew that there were some who would have said that she had been able to receive the best give available to any living creature - Freedom. How she had yearned for it, craved it - like a dying, wilting flower searched the soil it was embedded in for those last few precious drops of water. Like a desperate man, dying of thirst, crawling on his belly, on his hands and legs and knees and elbows towards that image of the oasis.

But what was Freedom, truly? What was Freedom without the availability to survive? What was Freedom with no companionship? Was it worth it - to burn and blaze and walk through fire just to achieve this supposedly unreachable goal?

For when Soul had looked into the future, the ideally golden future, she had seen nothing but darkness. A myriad of paths had lain splayed beneath her hooves, criss-crossing and circling till she knew she would never get anywhere, and a bleak desperation had overwhelmed her, for she knew that she would die there.

Life without a friend, without a companion, would soon end in death without a witness.

But then Safa had come, blazing into her life like a comet and lighting the paths beneath her hooves, banishing the grasping, clinging shadows. He was a warm companion, a solid figure beside her, his warm body pressed reassuringly beside her as they faced the future once more - together.

And suddenly, Soul didn't feel that scared anymore.

She lifted her head to meet his adoring gaze shyly, catching her breath as she basked in the warmth, in the emotion she could feel in his eyes. She felt her eyes gleam with something, flash with some unnamed emotion that she could not yet recognise for herself. A gentle, soothing wave that caressed her flanks, winding about her so that she felt as safe as a young foal at her dam's side.

"Oh Safa," she felt herself cry, the words ripped our of her chest as though by force, tumbling out one after the other in her eagerness to reassure him, to let him know how much he already meant to her, terrified that he would suddenly decide not to keep her, to throw her aside as so many had done.

"I would never leave you," she whispered, her hoarse, broken voice straining and scraping her abused throat raw. She flinched to hear it, so hateful was she of her brokenness, of just another example of her unworthiness to even breathe to same air as the glorious stallion beside her, to step on the same grass, to eat the same food.

If he took her in, for even a day! - she would be grateful.

"Never, never, never leave. Please-" she broke off, ashamed, suddenly, of how she was about to beg for him to stay.

And then everything went to hell.

The sounds of argument, of cries and the scent of blood and gore soon permeated the air, catapulting the crimson mare to days not-so-long-gone. She was scared, terrified, betrayed - and reacted exactly how she had been trained to do.

She was a good fighter - but the mare was made weak by years of captivity, by wounds still festering. She had no chance against this strong, brutal mare she had challenged. She felt her teeth nick the other mare's, and then - a burst of flaring pain that sent her stumbling. Her eyes rolled wildly, terrified as she felt the mare's strength in that bite alone.

Safa. His voice broke the trance that she had been under, and turning tail, Soul fled. Legs wildly pounding the ground, her breaths came n huge gasps, as she sped toward her rock, toward the one she knew who would never, ever betray her.

But she had betrayed him. She had attacked his dam.

Abruptly, she stopped, backing away from him as well, her blood-red eyes welling with tears of terror and fear and self-loathing.

"I'm sorry," she cried, emotions a mess. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, please, Safa, don't send me away! I heard them fighting and I thought - I thought I was back there! I thought I had to fight again!"

She sobbed furiously, her body too dehydrated to produce tears, but great shudders wracked her frail body.

She looked up, tremulously walking a little towards Safa, head dropped low in deference and shame.

Standing there, before him, she awaited his verdict.
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PostSubject: Re: A Simple Sin, an Oceanic Tide of Hate   Tue Feb 12 2013, 20:53

Hemlock

He dashed in again, rearing up and striking at her with his sharp hooves, his wings locked back, in case she tried for a bite at the soft skin beneath the feathers, or the delicate bones that formed them.

He dropped down and jabbed towards her neck, his horn glinting bright with a blindingly, white, hot spell, hoping to burn her flesh. As soon as he had done this though, he spun away again, one backwards flap of his wings adding a smooth momentum and allowing him to turn on a blade of grass, so he once again faced the treacherous mother.

"You will not harm them." he said, his voice a calm, cold rustling. He switched his wings open again, and with several powerful strokes leapt into the air, before dropping towards her with frightening speed, his horn lowered, aimed for her back.
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