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Description

As a reminder, Calus' story is not one where he's magically changed into a Good Guy, themes including both verbal and physical abuse, cruelty and sexism will be present.

ref:ref

In his defense, he'd spent the past two years in a herd. The sound of voices and the warmth of other bodies nearby were meant to be a comfort. They were meant to encourage one's self when they were truly at their lowest. They were protection and defense, from one end to the other and at one point Calus would have thought that at least Basch would have pulled him from the jaws of a wolf, no matter what.

Those days were gone, not when the herd he'd wanted had all but chased him into the jaws of death themselves. Self-reliance, he admonished himself, was the mark of competency. It was a shame that it didn't stop him from watching the herds as he saw them. There'd been several groups - some huge, some small, and all of them nothing butt reminders of what he'd lost. Stallions would pin their ears and charge him, huge, flailing hooves as they chased him a little farther away from their mares furiously.

He hated them as much as he hated his sworn-brother. Selfish. Arrogant. Cruel. His body still ached, and perhaps that was why he fled like a colt every time. Perhaps it was the memory of what standing and fighting had done for him last time - jack-all. He'd have to be more clever than the other stallions, it was clear, and bide his time instead of rushing for their throats as soon as he saw an opening. Yet, even that attempt was some time off, judging by the way he ached in the cool autumn mornings. Even with the constant harassment from herd-stallions though, he'd found a place where he could watch, learn, and plot. There was an invisible line that he was careful to toe but not cross, and it was perfect to watch from.

The past two days, he'd watched one herd in particular. He'd, in all honesty, never seen another stallion like the one who ran this medium-sized herd. Seal-bay and pale gold mashed together on the stallion's coat, and he was a gleaming example of health and ability. He also had no patience for Calus' curious gaze on him and more than once had he warned the younger stallion off even farther than normal.

Change was in the air though, and it came on the wind, Calus could feel it.

Dawn split open the sky, casting light on the fog that covered the area like a lazy, damp blanket. The wind groaned and tugged at the manes and tails of the horses as if they were wild grasses, and brought the scent of winter on it's leading edge. It made Calus shiver. Winter had always been his least-favorite season, and with it's creeping closeness, something like gut-sickness set in about him if he lingered over the thought too long. He remembered far too much about winter, and would sooner sleep through it like a bear, than face the white and gray suffering it brought with it.

It was the chill that had woken him up, the groan of the wind, whispering it's secrets. He was content to find a sheltered place and return to sleep, until a motion caught his eye. It was a lone figure, slipping away from the herd that had been lingered the passed few days. The two-toned stallion was on the far side of his herd, tending to a mare so fat with a foal that it was nearly revolting. He was distracted. Calus' ears flipped forward eagerly, as he tracked the lone figure moving through the fog. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved as well, doing his best to keep his steps quiet, and attention split between the herd and the figure.

She didn't seem to be stopping at the invisible line, and she moved as if she too, were trying not to be noticed by her own band-leader. Interesting. Calus slipped behind her, trailing, and fighting back his own desire to rush her away in a thunder of hooves - this was his chance, if he were so inclined to take it. It would be easy, a sharp bite to her hip and a mad sprint to outrun the other stallion and a chance to start his own herd - it was as if the stars had aligned to smile upon him.

His pace increased, eagerness getting the better of him.

" I wouldn't," came the mare's voice, rich and vibrant even hushed as it was, "Twister's distracted, not deaf. Keep walking."

Surprise very nearly halted him, but embarrassed anger bit through it like old bone, " Who are you to dictate me?" It was a challenge, clearly, and he extended his gait none the less, at least eager to get a better look at the mare he'd decided to follow.

" The mare who's interested in not going back," she returned, " so keep your mouth shut and we may both get lucky." The urge to snake his head out and leave a bite on her was very nearly over-whelming, and his ears flattened against his poll. Mouthy, of course she was. Disrespectful. Arrogant. He'd take it from her and make her understand why speaking down to him was a terrible, awful idea.

They kept walking. 50 yards. 70 yards. A furious squeal of a stallion who's noticed what's going on, and a soft swear from the mare as she broke into a surprisingly fluid gallop, speeding away. Calus' heart in his throat, fell into stride, surging to stay close as he could even as the distant thunder of their pursuer's hooves smashed into the ground like warnings of what'd come next.

"Run off, colt!" It was the first time Calus had heard the stallion's voice, deep and angry, " Fool!" Perhaps the word was meant for the stallion himself or for the mare, or even Calus himself. It was unclear. What was clear was that he gained on them with every stride, across the wide plain he chased them, until they came to a stream that gurgled happily through the land. Faster, they raced, away from pain and away from danger, away from what they'd been - the stallion thundered after them, puffing and huffing furiously. The stream though, slowed him, as if it were some invisible wall - perhaps it was too far from his mares. Perhaps it was knowledge of another threat in the area. Calus didn't care, and instead sped faster, shoulder to shoulder with the dun mare who'd led them on the merry chase in the first place.

It was well after they no longer heard him that they stopped, panting for breath. Sweat darkened coats, and Calus felt as though his heart might burst straight from his chest. He shivered furiously as the wind blasted into them, and it only served to sour his temper as the mare watched the horizon with smug victory on her face. He took a moment to look at her. She wasn't precisely pretty. She was more like a series of squares built on top of one another - muscle and fat draped over her like a coat. Finally her gaze drifted to him, and she went still.

Ah. There was the reality of the situation setting in.

TW: VOILENCE / SEXISM / ABUSE / SWEARING

" Well, good morning," she began, and the tone set Calus' teeth on the edge of fury.

" Shut your mouth. " It was cold, and demanding, " Are you soft in the head or just the belly? You, who led yourself on a flight of stupidity - and included me in on it!"

Hurt, then embarrassment, then anger rolled across her face in turn, " Oh yes, I made you stalk after me like a clumsy colt! I never asked you to come with me, you idio-" The word was broken by the pained squeal as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder, shoving her several steps, scrambling to keep her hooves underneath her in panic. When she tugged to get away, he let her, teeth dipped in the red of her blood. Wide eyes stared at him in surprise and growing fear, even as he stepped into her space, standing tall as he could, neck arched and eyes narrowed in fury.

" Watch your tone, bitch," the softness of the tone belied the anger that lurked beneath it, " you've left your herd - and I'm not a stallion you want to mouth off to. Now," he took a breath, and it struck him what seemed odd about the dun mare, with her pretty silver mane, and it made him want to drive her away from him with the fury that bit at his bones, " give me a good reason why I shouldn't just take back my security? " The mare drew in a shallow breath and squinted into the distance.

The wind hissed and she turned her head to look at him properly. " I can give you what you want," it came off a touch flat, a touch insincerely, but there was a truth set about it. He frowned none the less, and glowered back at her defiant stare.

" That brat in your belly? Why would I want that? Try again, mare." Her gaze hardened, and perhaps for the first time a real anxiety rippled through her as the silence stretched on between them, discomforted and uneasy as it was. Calus waited, circled her, taking a view of a disappointing prize he'd not really sought to win in the first place. She stood taller, determined, it seemed, to be unafraid of him as she could be.

" Yes, I'm pregnant," she agreed easily, " but I'm young yet. I can bare you a colt, or a filly, or however many you'd like. You have no mares, no herd - I mean no offense," the last words rushed out hurriedly, like a mouse on a mission, " but before I left my first herd, my mother was a lead mare. I know how to lead. I know this valley. Your herd would be strong."

Easy lies to tell, was the first thought that rang through Calus' mind. The silence weighed heavy, but still she didn't drop her gaze from his, hoping perhaps, that he took her at her word. Foals of his own though, that was temptation. It was true that a surviving bloodline was the point of a herd, even as messy as it could be at times. He huffed quietly, and reached out his nose, gently touching the sluggishly bleeding spot on her shoulder, even as she flinched.

" Fine. If you're a disappointment, though, I'll see no point in keep you or any of your progeny around," He'd seen his own father put away those who'd shamed him, left broken and bloody messes on the ground and turning dust to mud, " see that you don't do that. What is your name?"

The mare sighed, slowly relaxing, even as she felt the weight of responsibility snap around her throat, "Leandra."

Calus hesitated and moved away, and something in his chest growled its approval. A first mare. A real herd, starting in genuine earnest. " Calus. Why were you fleeing? That stallion seemed fine enough for someone like you."

Her jaw flexed, eyes narrowed at him but she held her tongue - there'd been no venom behind his words anyway. " Twister was kind enough to offer me safety when I needed it, but seemed disinclined to let me thank him and be on my way. You're right, I do have a foal on the way and so far I've yet to find a stallion willing to tolerate that of which is not theirs."

Calus snorted and flicked one ear, " Why should we? You're lucky I'm - as of right now - inclined to let you keep it once it draws breath. Shall we? I'd rather not linger."

She dipped her head and as they walked, he wondered if it was the fear of being alone with the weight of a foal to raise that kept her there, or the icy threat of winter and being alone. He wouldn't have envied her that. He'd been there. It had not been kind.

Stallion ID: 24-2
In response to: Windy day, Herd encounter [#78, Twister]
Art features: Calus ,  Leandra
Story features: Calus , Leandra
Word Count: 1,911

Aging: N/A
Healing: Calus [2/2]
Pregnancy: N/A

Members that own outside horses: Sparkle-Photography , #78 Twister

Items Used: None

Rolls: Normal

Description

As a reminder, Calus' story is not one where he's magically changed into a Good Guy, themes including both verbal and physical abuse, cruelty and sexism will be present.

ref:ref

In his defense, he'd spent the past two years in a herd. The sound of voices and the warmth of other bodies nearby were meant to be a comfort. They were meant to encourage one's self when they were truly at their lowest. They were protection and defense, from one end to the other and at one point Calus would have thought that at least Basch would have pulled him from the jaws of a wolf, no matter what.

Those days were gone, not when the herd he'd wanted had all but chased him into the jaws of death themselves. Self-reliance, he admonished himself, was the mark of competency. It was a shame that it didn't stop him from watching the herds as he saw them. There'd been several groups - some huge, some small, and all of them nothing butt reminders of what he'd lost. Stallions would pin their ears and charge him, huge, flailing hooves as they chased him a little farther away from their mares furiously.

He hated them as much as he hated his sworn-brother. Selfish. Arrogant. Cruel. His body still ached, and perhaps that was why he fled like a colt every time. Perhaps it was the memory of what standing and fighting had done for him last time - jack-all. He'd have to be more clever than the other stallions, it was clear, and bide his time instead of rushing for their throats as soon as he saw an opening. Yet, even that attempt was some time off, judging by the way he ached in the cool autumn mornings. Even with the constant harassment from herd-stallions though, he'd found a place where he could watch, learn, and plot. There was an invisible line that he was careful to toe but not cross, and it was perfect to watch from.

The past two days, he'd watched one herd in particular. He'd, in all honesty, never seen another stallion like the one who ran this medium-sized herd. Seal-bay and pale gold mashed together on the stallion's coat, and he was a gleaming example of health and ability. He also had no patience for Calus' curious gaze on him and more than once had he warned the younger stallion off even farther than normal.

Change was in the air though, and it came on the wind, Calus could feel it.

Dawn split open the sky, casting light on the fog that covered the area like a lazy, damp blanket. The wind groaned and tugged at the manes and tails of the horses as if they were wild grasses, and brought the scent of winter on it's leading edge. It made Calus shiver. Winter had always been his least-favorite season, and with it's creeping closeness, something like gut-sickness set in about him if he lingered over the thought too long. He remembered far too much about winter, and would sooner sleep through it like a bear, than face the white and gray suffering it brought with it.

It was the chill that had woken him up, the groan of the wind, whispering it's secrets. He was content to find a sheltered place and return to sleep, until a motion caught his eye. It was a lone figure, slipping away from the herd that had been lingered the passed few days. The two-toned stallion was on the far side of his herd, tending to a mare so fat with a foal that it was nearly revolting. He was distracted. Calus' ears flipped forward eagerly, as he tracked the lone figure moving through the fog. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved as well, doing his best to keep his steps quiet, and attention split between the herd and the figure.

She didn't seem to be stopping at the invisible line, and she moved as if she too, were trying not to be noticed by her own band-leader. Interesting. Calus slipped behind her, trailing, and fighting back his own desire to rush her away in a thunder of hooves - this was his chance, if he were so inclined to take it. It would be easy, a sharp bite to her hip and a mad sprint to outrun the other stallion and a chance to start his own herd - it was as if the stars had aligned to smile upon him.

His pace increased, eagerness getting the better of him.

" I wouldn't," came the mare's voice, rich and vibrant even hushed as it was, "Twister's distracted, not deaf. Keep walking."

Surprise very nearly halted him, but embarrassed anger bit through it like old bone, " Who are you to dictate me?" It was a challenge, clearly, and he extended his gait none the less, at least eager to get a better look at the mare he'd decided to follow.

" The mare who's interested in not going back," she returned, " so keep your mouth shut and we may both get lucky." The urge to snake his head out and leave a bite on her was very nearly over-whelming, and his ears flattened against his poll. Mouthy, of course she was. Disrespectful. Arrogant. He'd take it from her and make her understand why speaking down to him was a terrible, awful idea.

They kept walking. 50 yards. 70 yards. A furious squeal of a stallion who's noticed what's going on, and a soft swear from the mare as she broke into a surprisingly fluid gallop, speeding away. Calus' heart in his throat, fell into stride, surging to stay close as he could even as the distant thunder of their pursuer's hooves smashed into the ground like warnings of what'd come next.

"Run off, colt!" It was the first time Calus had heard the stallion's voice, deep and angry, " Fool!" Perhaps the word was meant for the stallion himself or for the mare, or even Calus himself. It was unclear. What was clear was that he gained on them with every stride, across the wide plain he chased them, until they came to a stream that gurgled happily through the land. Faster, they raced, away from pain and away from danger, away from what they'd been - the stallion thundered after them, puffing and huffing furiously. The stream though, slowed him, as if it were some invisible wall - perhaps it was too far from his mares. Perhaps it was knowledge of another threat in the area. Calus didn't care, and instead sped faster, shoulder to shoulder with the dun mare who'd led them on the merry chase in the first place.

It was well after they no longer heard him that they stopped, panting for breath. Sweat darkened coats, and Calus felt as though his heart might burst straight from his chest. He shivered furiously as the wind blasted into them, and it only served to sour his temper as the mare watched the horizon with smug victory on her face. He took a moment to look at her. She wasn't precisely pretty. She was more like a series of squares built on top of one another - muscle and fat draped over her like a coat. Finally her gaze drifted to him, and she went still.

Ah. There was the reality of the situation setting in.

TW: VOILENCE / SEXISM / ABUSE / SWEARING

" Well, good morning," she began, and the tone set Calus' teeth on the edge of fury.

" Shut your mouth. " It was cold, and demanding, " Are you soft in the head or just the belly? You, who led yourself on a flight of stupidity - and included me in on it!"

Hurt, then embarrassment, then anger rolled across her face in turn, " Oh yes, I made you stalk after me like a clumsy colt! I never asked you to come with me, you idio-" The word was broken by the pained squeal as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder, shoving her several steps, scrambling to keep her hooves underneath her in panic. When she tugged to get away, he let her, teeth dipped in the red of her blood. Wide eyes stared at him in surprise and growing fear, even as he stepped into her space, standing tall as he could, neck arched and eyes narrowed in fury.

" Watch your tone, bitch," the softness of the tone belied the anger that lurked beneath it, " you've left your herd - and I'm not a stallion you want to mouth off to. Now," he took a breath, and it struck him what seemed odd about the dun mare, with her pretty silver mane, and it made him want to drive her away from him with the fury that bit at his bones, " give me a good reason why I shouldn't just take back my security? " The mare drew in a shallow breath and squinted into the distance.

The wind hissed and she turned her head to look at him properly. " I can give you what you want," it came off a touch flat, a touch insincerely, but there was a truth set about it. He frowned none the less, and glowered back at her defiant stare.

" That brat in your belly? Why would I want that? Try again, mare." Her gaze hardened, and perhaps for the first time a real anxiety rippled through her as the silence stretched on between them, discomforted and uneasy as it was. Calus waited, circled her, taking a view of a disappointing prize he'd not really sought to win in the first place. She stood taller, determined, it seemed, to be unafraid of him as she could be.

" Yes, I'm pregnant," she agreed easily, " but I'm young yet. I can bare you a colt, or a filly, or however many you'd like. You have no mares, no herd - I mean no offense," the last words rushed out hurriedly, like a mouse on a mission, " but before I left my first herd, my mother was a lead mare. I know how to lead. I know this valley. Your herd would be strong."

Easy lies to tell, was the first thought that rang through Calus' mind. The silence weighed heavy, but still she didn't drop her gaze from his, hoping perhaps, that he took her at her word. Foals of his own though, that was temptation. It was true that a surviving bloodline was the point of a herd, even as messy as it could be at times. He huffed quietly, and reached out his nose, gently touching the sluggishly bleeding spot on her shoulder, even as she flinched.

" Fine. If you're a disappointment, though, I'll see no point in keep you or any of your progeny around," He'd seen his own father put away those who'd shamed him, left broken and bloody messes on the ground and turning dust to mud, " see that you don't do that. What is your name?"

The mare sighed, slowly relaxing, even as she felt the weight of responsibility snap around her throat, "Leandra."

Calus hesitated and moved away, and something in his chest growled its approval. A first mare. A real herd, starting in genuine earnest. " Calus. Why were you fleeing? That stallion seemed fine enough for someone like you."

Her jaw flexed, eyes narrowed at him but she held her tongue - there'd been no venom behind his words anyway. " Twister was kind enough to offer me safety when I needed it, but seemed disinclined to let me thank him and be on my way. You're right, I do have a foal on the way and so far I've yet to find a stallion willing to tolerate that of which is not theirs."

Calus snorted and flicked one ear, " Why should we? You're lucky I'm - as of right now - inclined to let you keep it once it draws breath. Shall we? I'd rather not linger."

She dipped her head and as they walked, he wondered if it was the fear of being alone with the weight of a foal to raise that kept her there, or the icy threat of winter and being alone. He wouldn't have envied her that. He'd been there. It had not been kind.

Stallion ID: 24-2
In response to: Windy day, Herd encounter [#78, Twister]
Art features: Calus ,  Leandra
Story features: Calus , Leandra
Word Count: 1,911

Aging: N/A
Healing: Calus [2/2]
Pregnancy: N/A

Members that own outside horses: Sparkle-Photography , #78 Twister

Items Used: None

Rolls: Normal