i fear no evil {open}

[fishie]

[style=letter-spacing: -2px; color: #241E1D; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 45px; margin-top: -50px; float: right;]andraste

Winter had sunk itself deep into the earth. The morbid, scraggly forests stood tall and leafless. The ice and snow sticking to the roughly textured bark as the winds carried the solidified liquid across Argider. Few dared brave the cold. The snow piled high against the trees, easily measurable to three feet and deeper. The hard-packed earth buried beneath the snow was covered in a thick sheet of ice. Long story short this winter was a bitch. Birds didn't even chirp in the mornings, or afternoons. Temperatures hardly rose high enough for strenuous activities and even predators of the land chose to starve rather than hunt in the cold. The blanket of white left everything in an eerie stasis. The soft thump of a solitary set of hooves echoed in the dull silence. The steady throbbing of the approaching beast further stilled the immobile world. Tension filled the air as though the world were holding a large breath.

Goosebumps rose on her flesh, the tiny pin-prickling feeling caused by the sudden gust of cold air. She arched her neck, closing her hazel eyes against the blistering cold. Cold, so cold there was no warmth left deep inside her body. Her breath didn't even mist in the air before her nose. Too cold, Ras, too cold. she swished her wavy banner, letting the stinging pain from the tips of her whip-chords remind her that she was indeed still alive. You'll freeze to death, girl. She had the decency to sigh at the idea. How long had she wandered without shelter in this cold? Too long she reminded herself. Her eye lids were beginning to swell with the cold, her tears frozen in tiny crystals down her cheeks. The blistering cold had begun to burn her skin. The thick winter coat she'd grown was no match for the brutal winter the world was enduring this year. With a heavy snort and the clacking of champing teeth she thrust herself forward, her hooves stamping the deep snow into the ground.

Take it, Ras, just a little further. Her mind began to drift, delirium sinking its razor sharp claws into her fragile, fragile mind. She closed her eyes, the cold wind freezing the last of her tears. Her eyes sealed shut and she stumbled on, staggering with each step, her limbs slowly becoming numb as her blood receded from her legs. oh shadows. she thought, hanging her head as she moved. What was the worse possible way to die, again? keep thinking, keep moving, just don't go to sleep. Convulsive shudders ripped through her body, knocking her to the ground, her knees painfully impacting the frozen earth. A soft grunt pulled from her vocals. She rocked, struggling to climb back to her feet. Once, twice, she sank back to the cold, hard earth on the last try. I can't, I can't.

"Ras!" her eyes snapped open, the memory if her second winter, of her mother screaming her name still blurred in her mind. She staggered to her feet, scrambling to put her legs beneath her. "

pull yourself together, Ras.

" she commanded herself, pulling herself upright. Her eyes finally focused, unblurring as she watched her surroundings. She'd found a hollowed out tree just big enough to fit her fat ass into to escape the weather. Just outside that tree the snow drifts were growing, a steadily falling cloud of white fluff dotted the night sky. Her nostrils flared, the moisture fogging in the air before her. She sighed. "

such a dreary, boring night.

" she sighed and stepped out into the night. For once, for one tiny moment, the world was peaceful. It wasn't completely still. She could still see the fading tracks of a white fox and a rabbit, a few wolves had passed by while she slept. Ah, the quite serene lullaby of winter. She shakes her mane, the familiar weight of her spiraling, contorted horn a burden on her crown she was glad to bear. It reminded her that she was still there, it got hung up on low-hanging, snow-covered branches occasionally but it was not a bad thing. It let her know she could still feel.


<sub>status || complete
tags || open to all
character || andraste

count || 6-9-9</sub>

[/style]

[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] Snow. Blast this horrid substance. Sure it looked pretty and breathtaking from the outside, but on the inside, so to speak, it was a treacherous beast. It would gleam and glow, reflecting the golden rays of the sun during the day, or illuminate the night with pallid blue shades of the winking moon. But if you weren't too careful, you could find yourself stumbling and falling to your knees, or perhaps swallowed up by a sudden shift in the banks. There wasn't really a chance of that here though considering the forest didn't allow as much snow through as say, the mountains of Pensri. In the Avari you could be walking on snow and the next thing you knew you would be swimming in it, struggling to climb out of the now wither-high mush. Yuck! But luckily enough, the current blanket of snow in the Kerryn only reached the Beast's mid-cannons. Speaking of the Kerryn, what was he doing here? Why was he even in the Tarin in the first place? This was the land of the unicorns, those damned horned creatures. Sure, his mother was an Eyðing herself and he had an even number of four horns upon his dome, but that didn't make him dislike the breed any less. All they cared about was fighting. Blood, war, and fire. How they loved their fire. Yet that was probably the one single thing that he was thankful for; Etna. Being partial Unicorn, he was able to harness that power for himself. And now that he thought about, he wasn't exactly one to be thinking that way. After all, there was a time when he had loved fighting too. The adrenaline of being at war, the thrill of the kill. The spilling of blood. Ah yes, blood. That sweet, succulent crimson that satisfied him so. Without it, there were times we he thought that might just perish, though that were not at all true. All he had to do was satisfy his need with a fresh kill and all would be back to normal. If normal was even something that you could call him. Mentally sighing, the Beast trudged onward with no specific destination in mind. He had simply woken up that day, did his usual morning routine of stretching by means of hunting, and set off to nowhere. His head was set level as he walked along in the darkness of the night. Somewhere above the barren tree tops, he knew that Nero followed him. Even though the two could not see each other, the Best still knew that his familar was there. They had one of those special bonds that were so rare these days. A link stretched between the two, no matter what the distance, and if he dared, the Beast could theoretically leave his own body to see through the eyes of his dearest Nero. Pausing his gait for a moment, the Beast drew himself to a halt. He turned his crimson gaze upward to scan the sky for his one and only friend. There. Just above and to the south, cruised the large bird. The thought pleased him, even if only the slightest bit. He liked knowing there was at least one other creature on this forsaken planet that he could count on. And with that thought, the Beast turned his gaze forward once again. He saw the world as lighter than it truly was as his poll arched to set in its usual carriage. One step at a time, he moved forward at a sedate pace. Slowly but sherly he would get... somewhere. The night was yet another chilly one, that was for sure. If he was any normal horse, the Beast definitely would have felt the nip of the frigid winter air. For the moment, he was just glad that the weather was calm. It would have been better if it wasn't snowing altogether, but he would take this momentary reprieve from the blizzards that had been whipping Argider in the rear. He didn't so much as bother to take the time to look back at the tracks he was leaving in the snow. They would no sooner be covered by the falling flakes, erased from the world just like everyone else that he came to know. A depressing thought, but he had somewhat grown accustomed to it. Especially because death was a part of him. Bringer of death. He scoffed at the name. Unfortunately for him, it was more than just a name, and he wasn't too fond of the way that the dreary forest he weaved through reminded him of that. As he walked along, banner swaying slightly in the frosty breeze and with the beat of his steps, he began to notice that this particular part of the forest was somewhat familiar. He hadn't been this direction in quite a few years, but he recognized it nevertheless. Just ahead, the naked trunks began to thin out. He knew what was waiting for him, he just didn't know who, if anyone at all. With just a few more seconds, and a few more strides, the Beast squeezed through a small opening between the trees and halted. "Hello again, Zemlija." His mind chorused. He ruffled the plumage of his feathered wings, then tucked them back against the length of his ebonite carcass. Doing the same with the leathery pair, he shook the thin layer of white crystal that had accumulated upon his dragon-like upper wings and then folded them neatly on top of the other, hiding the feathers completely. He have a slight shake of his well-muscled neck, shaking the snowflakes loose. As his mane and forelock settled, he blinked, taking note of a shadow on the other side of the circular clearing. "I'm not alone" He mused, his voice barely audible as he shifted his audits toward the rear. His next breath hissed from his nares, coming out in a deep, almost growling noise. Not too pleased to have company, he stood his ground, blocking the only way in and out of the Zemlija. [/style] tagged; andraste/open. words; 1024. notes; feels good to be back! TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

[fishie]

[style=letter-spacing: -2px; color: #241E1D; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 45px; margin-top: -50px; float: right;]andraste

a drawing sensation pulled her forward, dragging her from the minute safety of her hollow tree. The circular clearing just beyond the trunk had been momentarily lost to her in her passing between ice-crystal studded vines. She paused, raising her dial up and back to partake in a fresh breath of air as a soft gust of wind stirred the falling snow-flakes into a swirling frenzy of icy beauty. The beauty was easily lost on her. She was not so fascinated by the winter as she was by the night, by the moonlight. Her beloved night-fall. She had forgotten what the warmth of the sun felt like in the bitter sting of winter over a year ago. She'd abandoned day-light so fully she had long lost the greater-majority of the rusting on the tips of her hair. The sun-bleached damage was fading swiftly away, almost as though three years of daylight had never happened to her young body. She took one deep breath, two- the wind shifted. Upon the intake of her third deep breath she jolted, jerking to a stiffer, battle-ready position. Someone, somewhere in the shadows was spying upon her. Her banner swished softly, stirring the thin blanket of snow that had begun to settle upon her back into a tiny avalanche.

Goosebumps prickled her flesh as a renewed chill burst through the night, shattering her peace still further. She would not let anyone witness her enjoying anything. Not even the smallest murder would she allow her joy to be witnessed. Her hazel eyes struggled to witness the stranger across the way. The shadows gave nothing away save that shifting was occuring where it certainly aught-not be occuring. After a long moment of hesitation she relaxed her bodice. Whoever they were they had not come charging at her with a bellowing blood-cry. She was at least safe until the inevitable encounter that was destined to occur upon her retreat from the clearing. Of course she could always squirel away back inside her tree and pray her tracks be washed away before they came. Of course her over-powering stench would alert them and then where would she be? Cornered. The repulsive thought of being cornered like some trapped bunny rabbit disgusted and horrified her. She mulled over her options.

One of two things could occur; per say. The stranger standing at the entrance to the clearing that she had foolishly trapped herself in could be a rabid, carnivorous, violent fiend; or, they could be one of the disgustingly benevolent nusances. Either way she was in for a head ache tonight. heaving the dejected sigh or a wounded warrior she hung her head for a moment. Such a peaceful night had been so easily shattered that she trully couldn't believe her misfortune. She had been anxiously looking forward to being left alone tonight, to be able to be herself; no holds barred, no one to pretend before. look out. what's that? she jumped, jerking her dial into the air, eyes widening as she scanned the dimly blue-lit clearing for the source of the voice. A flash of movements in the shadows to her right inspired a startled bolt forward from her. Her hind pistons bunching up beneath her, muscles flexing, tensing, corcking, and releasing their tension all at once to violently thrust her from her shadowy nook into the moonlight. She kept her head high in the air, her knees tucked under her, and landed with the sinewy grace of a bounding deer.

Her mid-length tail billowed behind her in a swooping arch. Her corckscrew, horn glistened a dull black in the moonlight. No fancy lights illuminated from her, or her eyes. She was simply as simple as simple could be, for a mismunur that is. 'normal' was perhaps a highly in-applicable term for the night. Suffice to say it shall be thrust out the window with no backwards glance. Her heart hammered violently in her chest, the sclera of her optics rimmed, visibly, around the hazel orbs. Her iberian blood showed true through her figure. The Mangalarga Marchador from which she took her bloodline was of a rare decent, a strangly beautiful cross between Andalusians and barbs. Moonlight glistened eeriely on a colorfully purple distortion on her face. The obscene contrast with her slate coat was surely noticeable from a great distance even at night. The rough, ragged, jagged scar twisting from right eye to left nostrils was a prize she carried proudly. Her half brother had given her that scar and though the scar was not why her father had killed the colt; his death was why it was a prize to her.

Silence hung like a thick canvas in the night. Suffocating her as it swelled up and swalled deep the sounds of the night. The heavy haff-huff of her own breathing disturbed her. Her senses on high alert for no reason but her own paranoia she rolled her eyes, pawing anxiously, before shifting her hind quarters beneath her. The slight slope from slightly-too-tall hind quarters to perfectly aligned withers became prominent as she half-angled herself. A'las she arched her neck, the slight crest she'd inherited from her spanish half of her iberian blood created the defined, regal look so famous for such breeds. She moved forward with the carefully chosen, seamless, graceful walk of a beast burdened by no urgency. She would meet her stalking in due time. Why rush matters? It was better to stretch things out, to find herself time to decide upon exit strategies, temporary measures, ways to thoroughly deal with this shadow-cloaked stranger of the night.

Her limited vision grew stronger- no, she drew closer. His outline became known to her. Slowly details such as his red eyes and the deformed lump of his back became evident to her. Slowly realization dawned on her that he was not deformed, he was winged. Her mind reeled with the thought of facing a winged one. In her own breeds homelands too! Pests, those winged ones were! great in size but no better than a biting fly. The were constantly buzzing into everyone's business and always intruding upon othe creatures home-types whilst squawking and hollering when other creatures dared step foot upon their own turf. Bah! The world would be better without them. All of them. All of those god-forsaken wi- what was this? She felt a stagger of surprise in her step. Her eyes widened slightly. Oh my, he was not simply a winged one. he was a hybrid. Boasting a powerfully ominous set of horns, two pairs at that. This night did not bode well. She was but a yard away when she stopped. A perilously daring three feet. She raised her dial to a comfortable conversational position. The imperfections in her confirmation could easily be noted at this distance. The slight over-elongation of her head, the extra wide shape of her eyes, the large ears and nostrils, her sharper shoulder - no smooth angles for her, and those rising hind quarters. All easily visible and all while aesthetically displeasing were quite miraculously perfect for balance, breathing, seeing, hearing, and moving. It was incredible how the visual aspects that would be treated with disdain were trully a greater soundness than their aesthetically pleasing counterparts.

discomforting silence burned the night air. it was she who was unsettled, unsure of how to begin phrasing anything so that she did not project a disbondently cliche greeting to the stranger. "

hybrid, what becomes you that you wander so callously into these lands?

" her thick, sultry voice aired upon the side of caution. The accent present created a slight slurring sound upon the ends of her words. It was a pleasent slurr, a slight rolling if you will. Her 'r's in particular rolled with her speech. Her hazel eyes took in his impressively hulking figure whilst portraying a bland apathy. She had schooled herself during the trek across the clearing, collecting herself, calming herself. you won't last long in this world those words once more penetrated the night, burning into her mind, boring at her crown as though the were the driving tip of an assailants horn. Her auds twitched, suddenly jerking, at the sound. T'was the only reaction she aloud herself. Barely containing her paranoia. Shadows shited behind and above the beast before her, disturbing her mentally unsound mind still further.

<sub>status || complete
tags || Schatten // open to all
character || andraste

count || 1'438</sub>

[/style]

[Clippy]

[th][cs=3][rs=3][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500] [bg=076a6a]i41.tinypic.com/x6d5on.png

[/img]
The little mare shook her head, standing with the rest of the herd. She wasn’t all that hungry, actually, as the rest grazed- well, as they pawed the snow to dig up the dead grass, anyway. However, she didn’t want to stay. Her whole body really said that she wanted to move, get out. She managed to catch Estacar’s eye, her leader, and she tipped her head and turned off. He had given her some sort of freedom, allowing her to move, because she was not the one to run away. She gave herself a little run, though it was not totally necessary, and unfolded her large, white wings to give her lift, tilting her head forward. It, of course, was not necessary, but she believed her precious horn might snap with all the pressure. She loved the feeling, each of her feathers reacting differently to the wind and air whistling by, making her mane and trail stream like black and white banners. She loved this feeling, as any sane Pegasus- or part Pegasus- would.

She flew like this for quite a while, coasting, soaring, only really out to stretch her wings and move a bit. The birds knew far well by now to steer clear of Pegasi- it is used to be a game that she played as a youngling. They’d chase the birds in the sky around, but they would never try to hurt them, of course. Just another thing to make her smile.

With a combination of the cold weather and the fact that she was up higher in elevation, Tari was staring to shiver though. A physical chill ran through her spine, and she started to turn just over the Zemaljia to get back to the herd when something peculiar caught her keen liquid chocolate eyes. She thought that it was just a small hallucination of course, but she contradicted that same thought with a ‘what if’. ‘What if’ won the fight. She tipped her right wing to turn, making a circle, and sure enough, it was definitely real. Two large horses stood in the clearing, much to Tari’s delight and curiosity. Visitors? Her ears perked. She didn’t recognize them, not the smell on the wind, not what she could hear from them. It seemed hostile, but she though it would be rude to fly away. After all, they had to have seen her by now, she’d passed three times. However, wouldn’t it also be rude to barge in on their meeting? The torn Tari decided it must be better to at least go down and see. She could always leave, right?

Tipping her wings down, she made a gradual and beautiful descent, actually, toward the outside of the circle. She had braced herself for the faster fall; she didn’t prefer a coasting one like some. Placing her two from ivories into the piled snow, making a deep imprint in the white, wet substance, she used them to steady herself as her back black hooves made their impact, taking one step forward to balance herself again. She didn’t glance at the two just yet, only watching out of the corner of her eye. Fluttering her wings out, she folded them back and stood a little taller, her black splashed coat not showing any of the contradictory white powder melting on her, only because one could mistake it for a white patch. Her mane settled, only one clump falling to the wrong side. Her bright and curious, eyes turned to then glace, taking her dished head with the large horn, plus a half-grown nub on a horn, toward the visitors. Yes, she boasted a second growing horn, as she had figured out during Tinrall’s birthing period, actually. It finally broke the skin, though it had quickly healed, a few months ago. It was still growing, though she predicted that it would still fall short of her other one. Not that she minded much.

Back to the point, here now. She looked at the first one, which made her proud stand shrink- a lot. A tall, very tall, in fact, black figure, black at night itself, maybe even black as a raven. He boasted the most silky mane ever known to her, not a strand out of place. Much, much more than herself. But his eyes-oh, his eyes. They were red, as blood itself. Now, of course, Estacar was almost like this beast, black pelt, red eyes, but there was just something about this one that stood out, more than her loved lead and king. Each of his muscles stood, bulging, making him a proud fellow, but she was nearly terrified by him. He had large hooves, each maybe as big as a tree trunk! Something else also sent a shiver, a terrified chill about her though: he had fangs, the longest, and truly, the first she had ever seen. He was as lethal as a snake itself, she could only guess as to his abilities. Far, far from hers, no doubt. He was powerful, he was awesome, he was so mystical and yet so terrifying, he was as contradictory as his black pelt on the white snow, or even her black and white patches. Of course, none of this matched as to what she saw next: he had wings. Not only wings, however. He had horns. He was just like her: a mix between a Pegasus and a Unicorn. His lineage different of course, he was not painted as she was, but still, this powerful beast had some, some relation to her? It was a shocking experience.

She realized that she had probably been staring, and dropped her gaze. She turned to the next one across from the majestic beast, and have a look-over at the next mare. She was a bit tinier next to the fellow, but equally menacing. Tari hesitated; maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to be here after all. The two inspired a fear in her, though they hadn’t said a word or done a thing to her. Tari was not a sensor, but she sure was sensitive, and picked up on a lot more than the average horse would. The mare was black, also, but had a much lighter, leaner build to her. She had the most beautiful greenish-brownish eyes, however, in Tari’s opinion. Her own chocolate ones were so plain. She was probably also a young horse, still having a kick to her. Tari only bowed her head to both of them, an unstoppable worried expression crossing her delicate, fragile face.

Oh. Look what her curiosity had gotten her into now.

//ooc//

1,101 words. Pwnd. Plus one. XD
So, here’s my babeh. hope this is interesting, I already have skyrocketing muse.[/center][/color][/i][/size]
[/color][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[Zsadist]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] Schatten [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: 583B3B;] The shadow stood motionless at the entrance, or perhaps exit if you chose to view it that way, of the Zemlija. His banner swayed gently to-and-fro with the chilly breeze, brushing his broad shoulders ever so softly. It didn't feel like a soft caress when he actually noticed it, however. His razor-wire-like strands of hair were hardly that. If his skin weren't used to it and he were not the type that were immune to injury, then he assume it would feel something like... What would it feel like to be struck by his whiplash? Or some other creature's whiplash for that matter. He had never known the feeling of something as such. He had never known the feeling of any sort of injury. He had never know the agony of pain. Not a physical pain at least. Oh no. Never. He sighed. What a pity. That's what he thought, sometimes. It could be interesting to know what pain felt like. How different it would be indeed! His black velvet lips twitched in a slightly amused fashion. It was silly of him to allow his mind to dwell on such impossible things. They would never happen, obviously. As far as he knew, it was impossible for him to lose his invulnerability. He had never heard of such a thing happening. Though he had not know very many invulnerable horses either. In fact, he hardly knew any horses that were both invulnerable and immortal, besides himself. He knew that the other High Kings and Queens were so, but if they still existed in this forsaken world, he did not know. It had been hundreds of years since together they had brought the war to a stalemate. It had been hundreds of years since he had stopped his murderous ways. The war was a thing of the past, sure, but the balance still hung in the air. Anything could tip the screaming silence. He just knew that the one to tip the scale was not going to be him. If it came right down to it, he would protect his kind with his seemingly non-existent life. No amount of violence could make him back down. After all, it was what surrounded him as he grew into the beast that he was today. He was sick of it, despite the fact that it was what he craved most of all. His twisted innards grumbled at the thought. Blood. Flesh. That sweet, succulent taste that he savored so. How long had it been since that crimson had graced the coil of his esophagus? Perhaps too long, with the way that his carcass was beginning to stir. But that was a thought for another time. While he could still control it, he forced the craving into the back of his mind and focused on what was before him. The shadow had begun to inch closer while he was musing within the reaches of his mind. It was a dark figure, standing a few hands shy of his towering nineteen. And as they drew ever closer, he noted that this specific creature was one of feminine tendencies. She was one that was native to this land. A Unicorn, as could be expected of Tarin. And a Mismunur as well, he gathered, taking in the sight of her ebonite horn that twisted in a more downward position. Not your average dagger, but still formidable nonetheless. Years upon years of dwelling within the reaches of Argider have led him to be quite knowledgeable of the other species that walked the expanse of the island. The Mismunur was a dark, tricky breed. It was one who was deeply complicated, laced with a temper that knew no ends, and often found to be mentally unstable. After all, the High King of Tarin was a Mismunur, and he lived up to the breed's namesake quite well. But which side of the Mismunur was this female? Discovering her inner workings could turn out to be quite the journey, no matter how challenging, and no matter how much he disliked the Unicorn species. Sure, he found all of them equally bothersome, but only the likes of a horned creature were currently within his presence. His crown raised and his poll curled into a graceful arch, set high upon his shoulders as the fae drew closer yet. For a fleeting moment he wonder if she were going to attempt to walk right through him, but then she halted. Only a mere three or so feet away. A dangerous distance from which he could see every detail, and detect every scent that lingered upon her blackened coat. Oh how peculiar this one was. Was it actually bravery, or was it stupidity? It was not often that he found himself face to face this close with another equine. Most did not dare to draw even near this close. But then again, she was a Mismunur. They were quite different than the other breeds, that was for sure. He had better be on his guard, for this small distance could pose quite dangerous for the both of them. All he had to do was lower his dome and his longest tip would go further than the yard that stood between them. Even his shortest weapon would close the gap between the two of them. Then she spoke, only a dozen words directed towards his presence. A Spanish tone laced her vocals, warming his senses. Or was that his Etna? Perhaps both. Still, his being warmed as her words traveled over him, pushing out a small wave of warmth that pulsed in time with his beating heart, instantly melting the snow that landed upon him. It was due to his Etna that he bore no winter coat. Most equine's coats were triggered by the light, but he was different. His thin ebony coat never changed throughout the seasons. He would likely overheat if his body actually produced a winter coat. The warmth that always surrounded him was like his own personal summer. It pulsed around him, reminding him of warmer days that were not blanketed with snow. And still, surrounding him was a darkened night, and an even darker mare that demanded to know why he was here, all the while not coming across as rudely blunt. Why was he here? The truth was, he did not know. But before he could respond, a ruffling sound drew most of his attention upward, though he did not move a muscle. To the side of him dropped another. This one spotted with ivory and coal. What were the odds of this? Two Hybrids in the Unicorn lands. He watched through his peripherals as this newcomer settled after their rough landing. The aroma of yet another female wafted over his senses, but this Hybrid was tainted. A Hybrid belonging to a Unicorn herd? Blasphemous! The Beast snorted as she stared both him and the other mare down, taking in their features. Assessing what she was up against as a worried expression crept up upon her delicate face. She was between the two black creatures in height, but her build was more lithe and lean. He wondered for a split second if she would be able to defend herself if things were to get out of hand here. The Beast pondered the presence of this other Hybrid for a moment, silently contemplating how he should treat her. She was a Hybrid, yes, but she was allied with those blasted Unicorns. Was she still like him? Or had they turned her? A sharp Korr! brought him from his thoughts. His crimson gaze pinpointed Nero, his Raven, as he alighted upon a branch on the other side of the clearing. The Beast blinked, viewing the clearing from Nero's point of view for a split second. Then his vision returned to normal, to get back to the task before him. Why was he here? Why indeed. ”That is a good question, my dear Mismunur.” He mused, baritones as deep as the night itself. ”I suppose I have no purpose here. I merely wander where my pillars direct me from time to time. And this time, they have so happened to bring me here. Once again, I find myself in the midst of the Zemlija with the company of... Who might you be? Or shall I continue to refer to you as Mismunur?” Crimson pools pivoted in their sockets, taking in their surroundings before settling upon the mare again. Despite the icy breeze, he could still hear the rush of the Erdee that curved unseen around the edges of the Zemlija. Nero sent a soft Korr korr! from his perch on the other side of the Zemlija. Their crimson pools locked for a moment before The Beast tore his gaze away, settling it on the coal black female that stood before him. He realized that he was ever so slightly uncomfortable with this distance, be he forced himself not to show his discomfort. He kept his facade as emotionless as steel, not giving the chance of this Mismunur using his slight discomfort to her advantage. His Darkness slithered around him where he stood, gliding effortlessly through the atmosphere. He kept it close, unwilling to share, or let it loose upon his company. He reveled in its touch, allowing its caress to calm him as it writhed around his pillars, within the confines of his folded sets of wings, and skyward until it disappeared into the night. The Beast shook himself and turned his bleeding gaze upon the painted mare. ”And who might you be, my dear Hybrid?” He tipped his crown in return to her bow, turning his head ever so slightly to the side to avoid spearing the Mismunur mare in front of him. She may be claimed by a Unicorn, but she was still a Hybrid, and she would hold his respect until deemed otherwise. [/style] tagged; andraste, tari, open. words; 1651. notes; not too bad with the muse. TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0