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The large expanse of frozen river had long since thawed, the tepid waters now lapping at the base of trees, swallowing the footpaths made by the smaller creatures of this area. Flooding was to be expected this time of the year and yet Tasunka found himself enamoured by the gentle waves lapping at the surface of the grass. He dared to tread forward, careful, drawing nearer to the cascades. The sun was shallow in the sky, the orange glow like a thousand fireflies dancing along the horizon. It was beautiful, so much so that it almost excused his being awake at this hour.
Since leaving his heard behind, or more aptly since being banished, Tasunka had trouble sleeping throughout the night. He never truly felt protected, with the winds that howled through the trees and the rampant sound of critters he dared not seek. The stallion was lucky if he managed to get even a few hours of rest. Even still, he fared to move onward, to where?
Tasunka was uncertain, but he was moving steadily forward attempting to leave the memories of his family behind him.
‘Family’ the word felt so strange even in his own thoughts. The term meant so little to him that he didn’t bother to speak it aloud. It held no meaning here, not while he remained alone at the cusp of the woods.
A sigh fell from his lips, a sound that was created at the base of his breast and with it came the crystalized mist of ambiguity. He didn’t belong here but where did he belong? If not here at the shore than where?
That large stallion plodded the water beneath his hooves, stamping frustration into the mire below. The ripples of his reflection were shattered, an equivalence that wasn’t lost on the young creature. Briefly, he closed his eyes, the shaded blue lost to dark lids. Tresses of long multi-coloured locks fells over his face, black and white plaits that dangled along his muzzle. Should someone come across him now, would they sense his pain? Could it be felt across the trees, along the ripples in the lake? Surely, Tasunka would be allotted this moment alone lest the universe be a cold, derisive mistress.
A newly proclaimed King might be wise to stay close to his lands, if only to protect from any outsiders who might come along and try to get any ideas. Pierce knew he was well out of his forest home now, having picked up the river trail and simply wandered; but the stallion knew there was no danger for him out here, nor for his land. There were no souls he need worry about - at least not yet, and he knew that in order to change that, he would need recruitment. Though, it wasn't necessarily what he set out to do on this particular trek along the river. A moment of self-reflection he felt he needed, digesting the title he had taken up for himself, and recognizing how his father might in fact be turning in his grave at the thought of King Pierce.
He might not have seen it, and perhaps his mother had - but Pierce and his father were too much alike. So stern, but patient with others, and willing to hear out an argument before making a decision; unfortunately his father didn't exactly agree with Pierce's choices. The stallion, of course, wasn't happy with the way things ended - but at this point, he was doing his best to put all of those things behind him. It was hindering his ability to move on. Claiming the Smokey Forest was a big step, yes, but the stallion still had such a long way to go.
It was unfortunate that he had no one to share such pains with. He had been a solitary beast before, but this was much different. Surrounded by nothing but trees, grass, and a river that babbled on about nothing in particular, Pierce realized he had not seen a single soul since he left the Mountains for the last time.
He plowed his way into the riverbed itself, an attempt to shock his body with the cold water in order to forget his sorrows. The water jumped back up at him, saturating his tail, and scaring off any gathering minnow that may have been accumulating. Pierce took pause then, watching how the water continued to flow even as he kept his hooves still, easily diverting around his intrusion. Much like life, no matter where he stood, the river would just keep on flowing.
Pierce continued along, uncertain of just how far he would go until deciding to turn back. He probably should soon, for he knew it wasn't too wise to be away from his newly claimed home for this long. Perhaps just a little bit farther. Eventually he would reach a point where he realized that the splashing was a bit too loud to be coming from his hooves - and slowing his pace, Pierce would eventually come upon another beast.
He had not intended to disturb anyone, and certainly had no right to call out and start asking questions here; instead, the stallion gave a grunt hello, and slowly trudged off to the right side, closer toward dry land. Hopefully, he did not present as threatening.
timeline: Spring, Year 1. tagged:Emorymoss notes: broody boys :') word count: 512
A cold, bitter bitch fate was indeed, as a sound tore through his ear drums and called his attentions. The tresses of his opaque mane fell backward as he threw his head, turning to address the sound that emanated from behind and Tasunka was met with another. It wasn’t exactly uncommon to run into another around this area, littered with wild creatures and yet the sight came as something of a shock, one that Tasunka had to gauge poetically. Cold, ice eyes were thrown toward the newcomer and the sound of splashing hooves was all-encompassing.
Ebony ears swivelled backwards, uncomfortable at first but the opposing creature offered him distance and precipitously, Tasunka was more at ease.
”Hello.” It was lax, tentative but Tasunka stood tall, obliging no weakness to present. It was clear this stallion was older than him, by how much, Tasunka didn’t know but the juvenile wouldn’t hold not candle to the umber beast before him. Not that Tasunka wanted a fight, he was only here admiring the thawing lake, lost in the memories that defined him as a whole.
The fledgling shook his head and snorted, the warmth of his breath appearing as quartz mist.
In the presence of an older male Tasunka had to admit that he felt threatened. The only interactions he’d ever had with them were in his prior herd but something nagged at him, told him that this creature was different. Perhaps it was the manner in which he appeared, or the distance placed between them. Even so, he remained on guard.
The space between the two equines didn’t grow nor recede as Tasunka weighed his options. He could flee, of course but when presented when the options of fight or flight, Tasunka rarely fled. Fighting wouldn’t do much either save for add to the plethora of scars along his flank from his “father”. Perhaps standing still was the best option he had, the only alternative that didn’t present an undesired outcome.
The dappled equine took a deep breath, once again, and offered the smallest, most indiscernible of bows.
”I’m going to be honest;” He tenor wasn’t deep and whiskey like prior King’s he’d lived under, no, in fact, Tasunka was still very much puerile. He cleared his throat and continued, attempting to mask his juvenility. ” I’d not expected to run into anyone here.” Even as he spoke, he realized that was likely a foolish statement. Did anyone really expect to run into another out here, in the wilds of these lands? Just like that he was a colt again, feeling imprudent under the scrutiny of larger, stronger male.
Pierce lowered his head slightly, almost a nod in confirmation; admittedly the stallion would not have strayed this far from the forest at this time, certainly not after he had just claimed the land for his own. He had confidence in himself though, and wouldn't be here long anyway. The stallion remained stagnant while the other spoke - he was quick to infer that he was far younger than the King, simply by the way he spoke, but more by the lack of desire for confrontation. Not to say that every stallion he's ever come across would immediately start throwing hooves, but he's lived amongst other bachelors before and is well versed with how they generally behave. Avoidance certainly wasn't a typical trait, though, exceptions to the rule are far from impossible.
"Ah. Yes. Fact of the matter is, I had not expected to be here myself." He was eager to stamp out the uncomfortable air; was he coming off as intimidating? Pierce had never seen himself as a force to be reckoned with, even beneath his father's hoof; but the stallion supposed that things were different now. Circumstance would see the once estranged Prince now a King, now capable of all the things he would watch his sire do growing up - including chasing off those who sought to interrupt status quo.
This certainly wasn't the case here. Pierce wasn't going to follow in his father's hoofprints, that was for sure. He felt that at the very least an olive branch was acceptable; there are many horses out there who have lived such unfortunate lives, and he felt they at least deserved a fighting chance. The stallion supposed he now had the power to give that chance.
"I hope I haven't interrupted something." Pierce angled his head sideways, curiously, as though he'd hoped to gage better whether the other stallion had perhaps been in the middle of some sort of mournful moment, or what have you. Such didn't seem to be the case, however, he had to wonder what Free Lands had that allowed for beasts to be truly alone. "My name is Pierce." He opted to leave out his title, if only to make him seem a bit less intimidating.
timeline: Spring, Year 1. tagged:Emorymoss notes: - word count: 368
The painted stallion twisted his ears backward as the other spoke, not because he was angry or scared but because he’d spent so few moments in ear-shot of others that perhaps words spoke aloud were grating against his eardrums. Reveries of his father’s vocals scratched against the forefront of his brain and it took all his wherewithal to remind himself that the creature before him was not, in fact, his father.
Strange how every male would always resemble his paternal figure, perhaps it would fade as he grew, as he matured but somehow, he doubted it. Tasunka stood, a fair distance away from the stallion, eyeing him from beneath his darkened forelock. Light cerulean eyes found the painted creature where he stood and focused on his introduction.
Pierce. He repeated the name in his head, so as not to forget it. He’d not expected to run into anyone here, he’d iterated as such, but it was not really a bad thing that they had happened against one another. Tasunka would do well to engage in conversation, even ones that reminded him of the trauma he’d faced as a colt.
The stallion afore him spoke again and Tasunka looked to the water at his feet. He’d been stomping out his reflection, a reminder that he looked so much like those he desired to leave behind. Of course, he’d interrupted something but Tasunka wouldn’t be telling him that. Instead, he shook his head, and offered his own introduction that followed Pierce’s.
”I am Tasunka. I’m glad to make your acquaintance.” He offered this quietly and bowed his head, the tendrils of his long mane falling forward into his face. He’d propose this creature the respect he deserved because that is what he was taught and the repercussions of showing disrespect could be dire. That is what had been imparted unto him, at least. He wasn’t sure what Pierce was like. He seemed passive enough but Tasunka had learned better than to take things at face value. An angry stallion could be waiting just beneath the surface, anticipating the moment he was to screw up so that he could kick him to the ground. He queried it but regardless, Tasunka was wary.
For a moment, a pang of panic as the younger bowed his head to Pierce; he hadn't disclosed his kingship, yet felt treated as such, and it almost bothered him. He was sure Tasunka was merely showing him some respect, but for a moment the King couldn't shake it. It reminded him of all of the things he'd hated about being a prince, all of the things he bickered with his father over for all of those years. Deep down it was the feeling of being treated differently. He never saw himself as different - more fortunate than the next beast, perhaps, but not any more capable than anyone else.
"Likewise," he replied; pleased, and not for some strategic reason. For a very long time, Pierce lived on his own, and having grown up being surrounded by others it was quite the culture shock. His life truly hadn't been the same since he left the old one behind, even after attempting to return to the Mountains. One lonely day followed the next, and basic survival instinct began to kick in - feeling less like he was living, and more like he was simply existing. He was determined to break through it, and turn things around.
Black irises were quick to identify that the stallion's words didn't match his emotion; Pierce could tell he was unnerved just by the elder stallion being there. Knowing to be respectful of another's space, the King began to dabble with the idea of simply moving on. Being unwise to pester a sleeping bear, Pierce was in no mood to escalate something should Tasunka decide he no longer wanted to be spoken to. Sure, Pierce had encountered others of his stature before, noting that his father was probably about the exact same size - but again, there's no sense in sticking around if either of them decide to sour the situation.
It was probably best that he moved on quickly regardless, not hoping to have been here long anyway. "I could go, should you no longer desire company." He hoped giving him some kind of an upper hand on the situation could perhaps ease a bit of the tension here.
timeline: Spring, Year 1. tagged:Emorymoss notes: - word count: 359
The stallion wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but the option to move on wasn’t it. For a moment, Tasunka thought he has imagined it. It wasn’t something his father would have said at all. It would have been a rear and a kick, a painful whinny and a lesson learned. It seemed Pierce was far different than Tasunka had assumed.
And he had, assumed, that is. Quick to judge was one of his fatal flaws, something he’d learned out of a habit to protect himself. If he rightfully expected that all creatures were dreadful, he’d never be disappointed. It was a fool-proof strategy.
The black painted stallion moved toward the water’s, keeping his front facing the one who called himself Pierce. He’d not turn his back on this stranger, or anyone else for that matter. He was far too leery of making himself vulnerable.
”Do what you wish...” Tasunka tossed his head in a gesture of indifference, implying that Pierce could stay or go as he pleased. He’d impart the decision to him but there was a nagging inside his chest that wished the stallion might stay. Tasunka had spent so many days alone that simply hearing the voice of another was something of a salvation. Plus, it would do him well to make friends in the wilderness. It was just so difficult to trust those he ran into when he was raised with distrust and reticence. An entire lifetime could not be whisked away so easily, it would seem. In order to ease the silence between them, to truss the distance, Tasunka offered a question.
”Where do you hail from, stranger?” He lowered his lips to the surface of the lake and drank, when he looked back up to Pierce, droplets fell freely from his muzzle.
”I don’t suppose these lands are yours, are they?” He doubted as much. The creature would have likely been far more aggressive with another stallion encroaching on his turf.
Pierce could easily tell when he's overstayed his welcome, quick to spot when an encounter could turn sour; it was one trait he was thankful for, inheriting from his father. Though at the time he would easily try to refute it. It was a shame, he thought to himself; though he presented as having no ulterior motive, he couldn't help but consider the thought of recruitment. To return home to an empty forest was not only saddening in the prospect of solitude, but it practically made him weary to think of someone else attempting to swoop in and snatch what was rightfully his.
He had nearly turned away, but took pause and practically clung to what bits of conversation remained between them. Pierce recognized how sane and rational the other stallion seemed, at least on the surface; these days, he felt, it was difficult to find another horse who wasn't interested in engaging in some sort of qualm without so much as a standard greeting. The King welcomed his conversation and questions. "I come from the forest territory not too far from here. My lands don't extend this far . . . I was actually just going for a walk."
It sounded a bit out of character, especially for a King - but especially for a new King, whose name would not mean a single thing to any beast who happened to walk by. There was a danger in leaving his home for too long, and Pierce would begin to keep an eye on the sun's position above their heads. Should night fall too quickly, he knew, it could leave the Smokey Forest in a precarious predicament.
"I don't suppose you've been through the Smokey Forest . . ." Pierce was unsure how long the lands had been unclaimed before he had stepped through. "It's . . . peaceful. Much like how it is here." He glanced about, relaxed in the space now that whatever mental qualms they had seemed to dissipate. His glance returned Tasunka, curiosity getting the better of him.
". . . and yourself? What do you call home?"
timeline: spring, year 1 tagged:Emorymoss notes: - word count: 339
The patterned stallion listened to the creature across from him, he seemed so sincere and that was strange to Tasunka who had grown used to quite the opposite. It was possible for horses like Pierce to exist but it just seemed so unlikely that it made Tasunka cautious. It was due to no fault of the stallion before him however, and Tasunka realized the diffidence he felt was purely displayed based on the experiences he had as a colt.
He'd do wise to broaden his horizons.
Pierce spoke and Tasunka listened, spying the direction from which he came. So, he was a leader then, he was among perhaps the nicest leaders that Tasunka had ever met before...granted those experiences may have been few and far between. The tobiano turned to face Peirce fully.
”The Smokey Forest...” He tasted the title in his mouth and then shook his head. ”No, this is the furthest I’ve come. Driven by an inability to settle.” He paused. Was peaceful something he wanted? Was he able to function in the quiet when his head was so God damn loud?
’Home.’ What did he call home? How could he possibly know when he’d left everything behind? His family would be laughing in his face about now, chastising him for being so weak.
Tasunka inhaled deeply and then exhaled again, collecting himself.
”I wish I knew, friend. I hail from far off in the mountains but I wouldn’t call it my home. My old herd...” Tasunka hesitated. What was he supposed to tell this stallion, the truth? The truth was that even Tasunka was still processing what had happened, and more so than that he felt perhaps just as lost as he did when he was young. Tasunka shook his head softly.
”It doesn’t matter.” It did matter but he wasn’t willing to admit that yet. The stallion lowered his head and took a tentative step toward Pierce. ”You own those lands? What’s it like being a leader? Are you good to your loyal subjects?” Tasunka was testing the boundaries of this interaction, a feat that would have gotten him punished in his old lands. Perhaps he would see where this would lead not that he was in new territory.
Pierce nodded slowly, in complete understanding of Tasunka's words. He too had been one to long for something far greater than settling; that felt quite like a long time ago for Pierce, though he knew his life had only changed so much just within the past year. A stallion so against leading the life he had been born to inherit, and yet her he was . . . inheriting it. Though, to be fair, when he had stepped into this role, it was all of his own accord. It wasn't something handed to him, and his decision alone.
It was incredibly coincidental that he should also originate from the Mountains. The stallion had not known of the mountain herds for quite a long time, as unfamiliar now with the existing bands as he might hae been in his younger years; though, back then, he was more inclined to simply not care. Interesting, and Pierce was willing to inquire more, though it seemed the pair both held a bitter taste in their mouths at the very thought. Frankly, Pierce was glad to pass on the subject as well.
"Truthfully, I have few subjects to tend to." Read: none. Pierce was hoping to change that soon, of course, but it seemed as though very few equines would dare to set foot on his lands - or at least, he had not encountered any so bold as of yet. And so, it became part of the reason he would frequent the free lands these days; he had hoped that eventually he would not have to be so adament about recruitment, but for now, he would plug away at it. "But - I hope to make the forest a safe place to live. A place equines want to live."
He has a particular vision, though blurred by barriers such as population. However, Pierce has the highest hopes for the future of his home.
Tasunka had only given Pierce a brief glimpse into what sort of beast he was, and yet, the stallion couldn't shake stated similarities. He didn't expect him to be the sort to suddenly change his mind after a simple conversation, however he felt it his duty to at least offer some sort of hospitality. "If you do ever find yourself my way, you're welcome to rest and eat."
timeline: spring, year 1 tagged:Emorymoss notes: he couldn't help himself lol word count: 382
