pucker.up;;LIMBO.

[|.n.w.e.]

L i M B O.

The Cross I Bear.

Limbo was not a cautious mare. She was not one to conceal herself in shadows or skulk where she would be least noticed. She didn't know this land, the dips and swells of it were unfamiliar to her, but hiding away in its discreet crevices wasn't going to attain her a better knowledge. If this realm was going to be her home - and for once Limbo desperately hoped that it would be - she would have to find her way around the place. So she didn't creep through the fringe of trees to her right, or stick to the shade of the scree slope on the left.

White-bound limbs spaced themselves across the well-foraged grass, drumming a three-beat rhythm into the previously silent atmosphere. Hooves left neat, unshod prints in the springy turf behind, sculpting a trail through the centre of the valley. The wind bowled around her like an excitable hound, harrying her chest in an attempt to hinder her, unfolding her mane and tugging at her flaxen tail. Discreet muscles contracted and extracted tirelessly, powering the mare's compact chassis across the length of the terrain. Elegantly sculpted head was contained by an arching neck, sable-tinted muzzle directed downward. Limbo was a pretty mare, though she couldn't be called beautiful. Beautiful is as much about actions as looks. Limbo didn't have the patience to act beautiful.

Chestnut equine transitioned from her jaunty canter to a high-stepping trot, heading away from the centre of the valley and towards one of the frothing waterfalls that bounced over the rocks and scrag that made up the scree slope. At its base a shallow pool had formed, surrounded by rock chips and small, scraggly bushes. Limbo wound her way through the vegetation, acutely aware of the sandpaper dryness of her throat. Gratefully the mare lowered her head to the water source and drank deeply, mane tumbling across her neck to grace the surface of the liquid. Steadily her breathing evened, the inflation and deflation of her sides becoming less evident.

There wasn't another horse in sight, and even if there was they'd have a job spotting her behind the cover of the thorn abundant bushes. It was a pity - Limbo yearned for the company of someone, anyone, regardless of Alliance. Even a Dark would be greeted with relative gladness. Femme lifted her head from the water with a snort, sending fine droplets of water shimmying from her muzzle. But for now there was no one but her, and for the moment all she could do was stand and wait until someone came to entertain her.

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[Razor]

Darkly figure had been grazing nearby. It was awkward seeing him here, for you'd think a new lord in these parts would be marking his terrain so no intruders were to sneak in. But he was unlike the others. He had spunk. Something most stallions didn't have. Yet he was always willing to fight. Of course he didn't exactly enjoy it, but life was full of difficulties, some more than others. He was one of the some. His blackened banner blew away from him from the wind which had sent an unfamiliar scent towards him.

He quickly lifted his dial to take in the scent. It was nothing but a mare. Giving a snort he began his slow walk, following the scent yet not really caring if it was someone he'd like to meet. It was then when he noticed the sorrel femmora. Already he could tell she was different, but for some reason, not his 'type.' He found it strange that all horses were different. Why couldn't they all just be the same, likes and dislikes. But no, the pathetic other mules had to have it their way. Here he was again, babbling on in his mind the differences between lights and darks. It was ridiculous.

Finally, he walked down the steep hill, picking up a trot for walking down took up too much effort. He reached the vixen, only feet away but willing to move forward if he thought it might turn out interesting. He arched his neck slightly, showing a sign of dominance yet not enough to be rude about it, which wasn't necessarily like him. He was more to show dominance right away but for some reason he couldn't towards this one. His ears lay perched perfectly atop his dial as he inched closer. Nares flared inwards and out as he reached out to exchange breaths with the vixen. He wasn't the one to speak first. Though if he should, he'd do so. But for some strange reason he felt different around this mare.

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Word Count: 347
Status: Finished[/size]

[|.n.w.e.]

L i M B O.

The Cross I Bear.

It wasn't too bad here, Limbo mused. Nostrils inflated and a snort was issued, sculpted head turning to survey the scenery. There was not just this solitary waterfall - others tumbled among the crags to the left and right of her, causing a thin film of mist to hang eerily around the valley. The slope from which the falls bounced was rocky and grassless; a maze of boulders and lose scrag which were in danger of triggering a landslide at any moment. The sun could just be seen at the mouth of the valley, peeping through the narrow opening with a waxing light. She could soon get used to a place like this.

Movement, somewhere behind her. The chestnut's ears flitted intently, trying to locate the source of the disturbance. Soon after this first suggestion of life a scent pressed itself against her nostrils; the powerful, testosterone-layered smell of a stallion. His Alliance could not be so easily determined. Limbo stood quite still for a moment, pondering, savoring the scent lest it vanish and leave her on her own again. Alliance meant little. The femme had never been really interested in them anyway: Neutral had seemed easiest, so it had been her choice. Well, there was only one way she was going to discover this masculine's preference.

Chestnut equine turned and took a few paces forward, making sure to keep close to the stunted bushes. Sleek side brushed against the knobbled branches and waxy leaves, flesh occasionally hindered by a protruding thorn. Incredibly curious now Limbo peeked out from behind a particularly stolid trunk, graceful Arabian curves catching the light. The stallion before her was handsome, she had to give him that. Tall, muscular, coloured a rich bay that gleamed with the sun. He was dominant too, though he seemed to be restraining on this trait. But now, as Limbo allowed her eyes to wander along his frame, there was no mistaking. He was a Dark.

It mattered little. It was naive of Limbo to be as fearless - or perhaps careless would be a better term - as she was, but if this stallion was going to attack her, then so be it. For the moment, however, she was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Limbo shook away the remnants of shade that clung to her bodice, taking a few steps closer to the stranger. She stopped a few feet off, dished profile tilted to one side, nostrils inflating with his scent. Ears listed forward, interested. A moment or so passed, and seeing as the stallion made no attempt to speak, the mare decided to do it for him. "Hello yourself."

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[Razor]

The steed hadn't known what he was doing here. He wasn't lost, nor was he in search for anything. Distraction was a horrid thing, causing mistakes to happen while just pondering on your own when you notice something. He studied the smaller figure, continueing to take in the scent so to not forget it. White stockings and face appeared to glow in the morning light, though her coat was a little rugged, most likely from the night rain that had fallen. He himself wasn't at best appearence, though many say that he looked like a natural beauty. He was too careless to wonder why.

Head kauked slightly at the sound of her voice. It was something he didn't really expect to hear coming from an arabian. He found her dished face funny. Too pure to be wild and untamed. Arabians thought they were all that, but truley they were nothing but fakes. He had taken a while to respond to her hello, but a grin was made over his darkened muzzle and he arched his neck slightly more, though not fakily. Speak your name. He was nothing less than a command. His tone wasn't shaky nor was it threatening towards her. A deeper voice coming from within as he awaited an answer. No use in wasting time with hellos and goodbyes.

He inched forward towards her, unthreateningly. He had never been taught exactly what to do when it came to creatures like these, though natural instinct took him over. Lifting his dial a little more he shook his forelock out of his face, revealing the hatred in the eyes he had. His hooves stood perfectly aligned, lined up together like a conformation picture, though he was nothing of the sort. He was completely relaxed with the conversation. Unlike other beasts, he was slow to making things happen. Make it a little more suspensful.

---

Word Count: 320
Status: Finished[/size]

[|.n.w.e.]

L i M B O.

The Cross I Bear.

The Mustang-cross knew she would have to keep her wits about her. Bantering with Darks was a dangerous thing, though it was exactly what she intended to do. Eyes remained fixed upon the stallion, unwavering, contact only broken by the rhythmic closing of her lashes. Beneath the layering of skin her muscles tensed, just in case. Limbo was not afraid, though she probably should have been. She'd always managed to get herself into trouble by being too clever for her own good.

Chestnut snorted lightly as an eddy of breeze picked itself up from the ground, toying with her mane and forelock. The sun was still hanging relatively high, but the valley was sheltered and blocked the majority of its rays, causing a coolness to fill the atmosphere. A small shiver creeped beneath Limbo's skin but she supressed it, not wanting Ruffian to believe she was intimidated. At this thought her attention returned to the bay equine at hand, who had inched a little closer. She raised a brow discreetly, though the action was masked by the creamy locks that cascaded from her poll.

Ears flicked as his dominant tones reached her hearing. The smallest of smiles played upon Limbo's lips; the corners of her mouth upturning ever so slightly, the mildest suggestion of a smirk. The mare shifted her weight, tail snapping about her hindquarters as she altered her position. Her eyes never left the horse before her. Limbo wondered what he wanted: it was not usual practice for Darks to covort with Neutrals. Perhaps he was just bored, which was most likely.

"Speak your name please," the femme corrected, an air of taunting manifesting around her. "Didn't your mam teach you no manners?" Obviously not. "No matter. Limbo, if you must know sweetheart. Yourself?"

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[Razor]

Ah... another stuck up attitude 'quine. Just what the bay steed needed. Did she even know what she was messing with? The voice of the 'mom' said something to him as he remembered back when. A pathetic light. Ha. He needed her. She tried to make him good but he couldn't help but follow on his sire's side. It couldn't have been his fault. His mom had gotten herself in trouble and if needed she'd pay for what happened that day. The flashback faded as he remembered why he was here, but had no idea exactly why he had followed the scent of the neutral one.

A small grin formed over his maw as weight shifted. Now one hoof rested underneath him as he smirked towards the mare. He liked attitude. It was something he liked to make fun of, just like the pathetic shape of the arabian head. It was all amusing. Just a game to keep him occupied and life began to fade away. Ruffian. He said, his tone calm and relaxed yet dominance hidden between the letters. It wasn't often when he introduced himself. He figured she was a neutral. Even more pathetic than lights. They couldn't even decide which way to travel, though Ruffian preferred the darkened alliance. It was the natural way to freedom. You get what you want, no exceptions. And what would a lovely 'quine like you be doing out here alone? This time his tone had a little amusement sound to it. It was funny how easily your character can change in moments.

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Word Count: 273
Status: Finished[/size]