Unicorns of the Vale

Trell's ears flicked forward as the mare. Aia was it? stepped forward and began to groom that hard to reach spot on the stallions back. In an instant her ears swept back and her muscles tensed as though she were going to strike out. The stallion Na'vi had been teasing the Dayan horse or now unicorn, and she guessed that the mare was just being kind.

Trell's happy side had long ago been stolen but she was a logical thinking mare and though she didnt like it she knew that being nice to the stallion was the only thing she could do. She glanced at Na'vi once for self encouragement, thinking that the blue striped stallion may like her more if she was nice to the Dayan. She tossed her head and tried to extract the venom from her tone. "greetings, Dhars is it? How did you reach this place and where did you learn of it?" she didn't entirely succeed but she was curious as to how that stallion reached the Mere.

(( Im so sorry this is late I've been riding a lot since a show is coming up soon plus my teachers decided to give us a truck load of Homework so i could rarely log on))

Under almost all other circumstances, Finn would have been ecstatic at having been asked to dance by a stallion. It usually made her heart beat faster, as did any attention that she got, especially when the stallion in question was a rather handsome one. This time, however, the stallion was a mere colt and she'd just been shunned by handsome stallion and grown mare alike. Not taking into account her own youth - six summers, not at all old - she snorted at someone younger than her asking for a dance. It had never happened before.

She watched him cautiously, her hoof scraping the ground ever so lightly. Puffs of air left her nostrils as she took in his stance and listened to his quiet breathing.

"Dance, you say?" Finn murmured, giving a shrill whinny as someone bumped into her from behind. Looking over her shoulder, her fiery mane whipped in the air, and she didn't turn back to Pan until the offender had disappeared amidst the many others that had found someone to dance.

She considered it, she truly did, but her first reaction was a resound 'no'. His eyes looked gentle, his words kind, but the rejection from the grey stallion - he'd not even looked at her! - still stung. Yet, as she spied grey and spotted white everywhere, she felt angry at the thought of having things ruined for her. So, even though she felt uneasy at being paired with someone so young - a whole year younger! - she smiled at him.

"Ah, but dancing is one of my favoured past-times." Her tail-tassel flicked and she dipped her head again. Holding her tail high, she stepped to the side and glanced at him. Unicorns streamed past her, their hooves rumbling. "Think you can keep up, though, young stallion?"

Nearly tripping over her own hooves, but just managing to catch her footing, she ducked behind a dark stallion that had suddenly appeared beside her. Looking under his neck at Pan, she grinned mischievously. She'd show that grey stallion that she could dance with anyone and dance well.

In her mind she saw them twirl on the spot and uprooting dirt. That spotted mare would watch and gawk at Finn's agile limbs. That stallion would envy his young compatriot. All around her, they would admire her flashing mane and glorious winter-coat. Even though her muscles complained at the sudden change in movement, she couldn't help but feel excited at the idea of dancing the night away. Under the stars and surrounded by fellow 'corns, she'd stretch her legs and think of tales told to her when she was young. Of dancing mares and moon-touched stallions, who all hoped to chase the sun. Her eyes flashed at the very thought.

Bending down and touching her horn to the ground, she tried to be heard above the sounds resonating all around her.

"Dance, sir Pan, and show me what you can do!"

- Finn

(OOC: Finn thinks she's so much cooler than she actually is, heh.)

Na’vi’s ears swiveled in loose circles disguising the turmoil underneath. He’d met Aia….Alo, no Aia, first bless it. They were still at the awkward introduction stage; but she had barely given her name to the Da stallion, who had proven to be violent already, and he and she were just scratching it up. Jealousy was pointless when he had just met, but no less prevalent. He knew mares found him attractive. It was less ego, and just as much fact. He never wanted for a partner to spend a warm evening with.

To distract him from his agitation the blue striped stallion snatched a mouthful of grass, tilting an ear to wait for Dhras’ answer to Trell’s inquiry.

Na’vi

(ooc: sorry guys, Na’vi abstained)

The Dayan seemed to relax and that pleased the mare. It looked like he understood that there was no point to be on the edge all the time. She let him scratch her back for a few moments more before taking a step back. It was not unpleasant but it felt like it was a slight difference at that first nibble and the ones after. Again - not unpleasant but she couldn’t figure out what was different, but it was something. She stepped away just in time to see Kitai excuse herself and in response Aia returned her bow. As she glanced at the blue stallion she noticed that it was something that passed across his features but what she couldn’t see or guess. His facial expression looked tensed and in a way he looked just like Yarilo when he was displeased with something. She raised a brow as the other mare started talking. She turned back to Dhras and her voice was as warm and soft as before, it didn’t reveal any of her thoughts regarding the other stallion. Aia didn’t want the Dayan to slip back into that slightly hostile shell again. “Yes…Dhras…friend stallion…do tell about yourself…to be honest – I have never met anyone like you before…Perhaps you can teach me about from where you came as I teach you how life is here?”

Giving him a warm smile as encouragement she waited for his reply. While waiting her thoughts drifted a little, had Terah woken yet…did he care that she had left without saying goodbye? He was used to the coming and goings of the plains but to Aia that was still new even if she had lived as a plainsdweller for years now. There hadn’t been any promise between them and they had only slept next to eachother, nothing else, but still… Aia hadn’t slept that close to anyone besides her son since her beloveds passing. He was a good friend but Aia was still not sure why she had told him everything she had. The mare let her thoughts linger just briefly on her son before she shook her head as to shake the thoughts away like they were flies. Her mane, almost the same color as dried blood flowed like silk around her, and in the wind the three black feathers that was attached to it twirled.

She listened silently at the Dayan has he spoke but she wasn’t sure if she should acknowledge what he said in some way so she simply nodded. As he finished she glanced to Trell. “…and you mare…from where have you travelled? Have your journey been as long as Dhras?” She continued as she turned towards the blue stallion. A smile played in the corners of her mouth and somehow her eyes had that little extra sparkle in them as she looked straight at him. She didn’t do it on purpose though. Maybe it was because he hailed from the same origin as her but…he felt safe…he felt like home…somehow he reminded her about the Vale. A place she doubted she would ever see again…it needed to be a good cause, something important to make her turn back. The mare’s voice was still very soft and bore the tone that so clearly marked it as Vale speech. “What about you Na’vi…please share you’re story now when Dhras and Trell have shared theirs…I have always loved listening to others and their adventures....”

-Aia

He hadn’t slept at all. Nothing at all, not even for a minute and now he was really grumpy. The pain had kept him up. It seemed like all this moving about, especially since the night with Dust and then him charging the pard made it hurt even more. Usually he spared his leg by just walking and only ran if there was danger. It felt like had he twisted something in the leg, making in pop out of place. The stallion knew there was some severe damage but he had never seen a healer, not even when it first happened. It had started with the kick from the angry mare but he hadn’t cared much about it at the time. Now it was probably too late to do anything. Brooding he had stared into the fire until it was just glowing coals. He hadn’t bothered to find something to feed the fire with. Fire was not to be trusted and why feed something you didn’t trust.

The others started to stir. A cold slightly red eyed stare observed the others. His ears pointed backwards. If he had been on his own he would still had his bloodseed. If he would have his bloodseed it wouldn’t hurt…as much. Pato frowned and clenched his jaws, focusing on pressing the pain down. It didn’t matter much that he held the leg up, it was of course better than when he put weight on it but still it throbbed mixed with a sensation now and then that felt like a pard sinking its teeth into you. He had felt it once for real and have scars to prove it. If it hadn’t been for Dust, he wouldn’t stand here today. At times he wondered however if it hadn’t been for the best, if she hadn’t been where she had been when it happened. What life did he have now really?

Maura’s voice cut through his thoughts. He turned towards her voice, tilting his head so she came into his vision. His ears were still back and it was only when she mentioned berries one flicked forward. At times bloodseed grew by streams but mostly that was to wet for them. They didn’t like it to dry either. Maybe… Ignoring the others he limped, quite heavily, towards the filly. His voice was raspier in the morning and with the pain plaguing him he sounded worse than he had done the day before. He liked her even if he didn’t really show it in his actions. Despite his gruffness towards the others he was nicer to her.

“You're like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day little filly, warms the heart. The others seem to be as slow as snails this morn…I head towards the river; you know where to find me…”

Pato really hoped as he limped along that he would find anything by the watersource that could help against the pain, if not the bloodseed bushes then maybe the twigs he had lost yesterday.


-Pato

Treb’s eyes were still intently focused on the foals, racing lightheartedly across the grass. The littlest one shouldered between the other two, pinned small ears and whistled, a high-pitched attempt at a war-shriek. Treb found himself going from attention to laughing contemplation; had he once sounded like that? So small and thinking himself so big, dancing around his sire and dam, and pretending that his parents were spotted dogs or sand lions?

Growing up, he had not had a lot of other colts to play with at all. In fact, thinking back, he didn’t recall many times in his life when he’d been around three youngsters of his own age, and never with the sort of familiarity they had for one another. Treb’s tension slowly drifted back a place and he lowered his head ever so slightly, his tail tassel flicking around his fetlocks.

Treb had spent a good amount of time peering at the distant horizon for the last month. In the morning, it would turn violet-blue as the night gave way to the sun mare’s gallop. Her pending arrival would haze the clouds to a dusky pink, shot through and streaked with tails of lavender and gold. Every morning like he had done for as long as he could remember, the pale stallion would pause, knee deep in the crackling grass and just stand and wait.

The desert unicorn would hold his breath and feel it tight under his ribs; ears forward, hooves perfectly level, arching his neck and the curve of his horn in silent homage. Slowly, respectfully, he would bend his leg and bow, eyes closed, grey muzzle pressed to the earth, trusting in Amaha to guard him in this most vulnerable of positions as he thanked her for her blessing.

Back home, the smells would have been familiar. Treb knew the scents of the desert. Here, was richer soil redolent with layers of thatch, and a softer, less mineralized touch. He’d passed the days in this rhythm - sunrise, sun-high, sunset, and in between that, he’d just walked, in that long-enduring stride that had carried him so far for so many miles, grazing here and there but never for long. His habit had been to always be on the move, day after day, and he found comfort in routine.

The unabashed play of the foals below was something the stallion found himself for once simply standing still to watch with utter fascination; so used to traveling alone and with no companionship but the desert around him.

So caught up in watching their young antics, that Treb found himself startled suddenly by the whinnied call of a mare. A mare? No, two mares. Of course there would be mares, what with foals nearby, he chided himself. The stallion hadn’t even seen them approach the apex of the hill; even now, their bodies were half hidden by the grass and rise. They had bright pelts, brighter than any mare he’d ever seen in his life. He was taken aback at how much they resembled Amaha’s descent in the evening, brilliant reds and deep violet shadows.

At that thought, he rolled one dark eye to the sky to wonder if he was not here, but still on that flat, hot plain of salt and sand, crumpled down, either dying or dead. The wind pushed against his thin flanks. Briefly, he thought he smelled blood; then again, he’d snorted it so often out of his dry nose along the Flats that it could have merely been a shadow of memory. He sniffed once more. Nothing.

When the purple mare’s words came to his ears, her query was so straightforward and amicable that the pale stallion rocked back on his hooves. Well, dead or alive, a mare’s question was never to be ignored.

“Sun rise to greet you,” he called back formally, arching his neck as he started to extend a foreleg so that he could drop his curved horn down to touch earth in a polite bow to them both. “Forgive my intrusion, there is nothing... ah, wait, yes, please, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell me..."

The thought moved into his head before he could stop it. He had found himself wondering things. They were mostly thoughts that seemed to knot their way nervously deep into his belly... What he wanted to say was, "Where I am now? How far away am I, from home? Will I ever get--"

The sky was dark and grey. The wind was rising, and it pushed the grasses against his legs. He knew that he was going to get soaked to his bones once again.

Instead, his words came out as, "Where there might be a place to find shelter here? From the storm?"

-Trebimir

(ooc: We're restarting this whole way, way back series of postings, Kehai, DoTS and me, because... well, man, it just became a mess and we lost players and track and etc. Poor Treb's been started twice and uh, had four posts, hahaha. We don't think it messes up anyone's history if we just drop the last bit and start forward, none of these characters got a chance to really interact with anyone else... if it's an issue, just let us know.)

The wind whistled all around him and is wings beat lazily. He could feel Isha's breath flitter past, brushing feathers and lifting him farther than he'd been in months. The favourable winds had taken him from the edges of the Smoking Hills towards the outstretched Plains, rolling below him like a tercel's coat covered in snow. Tufts of green appeared whenever a gust tore too wildly at the flimsy white, until it was covered again and obscured from view. As Anathar beat his wings, he could feel that very same snow fall down in a flurry, though some of it remained frozen to his plumage. He'd turned from his dark green - interspersed with greying edges, though he dared not ponder its meaning - to a strange mix of green and white.

Thar's journey had been a surprisingly long one. Several days now he had scouted the grey skies, searching for the unmistakable scent of prey on the wind. However, he had smelled nothing but water, soaked grass, and the barest remains of a dead pard. No unicorns, no fleshy hares, and nothing that could sustain him. So his stomach growled and his eyes glanced at the whiteness below in the hope to see something marring its state.

"Ah, Metai, my mate," he murmured, voice just lifting over the sounds all around him, "They elude me still. Wicked hornlings, with their weak limbs and cowardly truce. They mock my kind, use their voices to make our hearts grow complacent. Oh, if I were to see one and snap their necks. Twigs, they are, twigs to be broken and feasted on."

His voice wavered as he looked to the side, hoping to see his mate - strong Metai, her blue coat radiant even in winter - but finding an empty sky. Talons clenching, he beat his wings harder and ignored all else. Even the growling of his stomach could not deter him as he scanned the horizon. Unicorns, he hoped to see, with slender necks and legs to be broken under his weight. They would buckle, then snap, and he'd carry their foul meat elsewhere. Yes, he would find his mate and bring her food.

"Isha wills it," he croaked, sinking slightly so he was closer to the ground. He could feel Metai beside him, but did not even glance her way. His mate was elusive and would no doubt leave, only to return when there was blood on his talons and the snow had turned red.

Finally he spotted something, trudging through the snow up ahead. A mere dot, at first, nothing more but a dark speck on the horizon. Even his sharp eyes - a hunter's gaze - could not make them out at first. Then he neared, gaining ground with every measured drum of his wings. Though his pinions ached, he saw nothing but those below him.

Unicorns, he was sure, moved across the Plains. How many, he could not tell, as they hunkered together and seemed one. Brown he spied, no, green. The green turned to red and blue, to yellow and black, and finally left him disorientated. His eyes failed him in the snow, could not make out any colours. They were all, or they were nothing.

"I will have you," Anathar whispered to himself, taking great care to quiet the whistling of his wings. He could see them now, backs turned to him. Soon he'd be upon them. Muscles tensing, he prepared for the dive. Aiming for one of them, he raised his talons to wrap around a slender neck and swept down with a violent shriek. He hoped to fill his stomach tonight.

- Anathar

(OOC: Open to anyone. Can be 'corns already playing, or newcomers, I don't care. ^^ Also, of course those being attacked are in complete control as to what happens to their characters.)

Navaho snorted quietly at Elen’s response. It was hardly satisfactory. Her slight trip over his question and the small gasp from the bird cat made him only more curious. How cruel were they for piquing his curiosity then forbidding him the knowledge! One of the reasons he had left this place… Too many emotions. He was not the emotional sort. He didn’t get angry easily, and happy was an even rarer emotion. Contentment or mild curiosity was probably the closest you could come to an emotion with him. Quite unlike his cousin who was forced to feel emotion all the time. He had met her but once in his childhood, what an odd thing… But he drew his mind from its wandering and focused once more upon the spotted mare and griffin. He shifted his feet glancing from one to another giving the clear impression he wanted more information. However, when none was forth coming he just sighed. At least she wasn’t a whiny mare who wanted to force her troubles on everyone she met. He would just assume for now that it had to do with the pregnancy or a death or something. He’d figure it eventually, if he stayed that long. For now though things had gotten dull and he was suddenly aware of a nagging dryness in his throat thanks to his running earlier.

“Well… though I find this conversation… stimulating… why don’t we find a place to rest. I myself could use some water.”

He flicked his tail as if to say ‘follow me’ then walked along in silence, nostrils flared for any scent of the desired liquid.

~Navaho

Dhras bobbed his head toward the mask-faced mare taking her leave, and Aia left off scratching him. Was no one going to follow Kitai? Apparently these unicorns believed a mare by herself was perfectly safe without a stallion or a herd to protect her. He flared his nostrils, but didn’t snort his disbelief. It was best to keep his thoughts to himself for now, until he knew more about unicorns and how they lived.

The blue paint, Trell her name was, spoke next. She seemed a little tense, as if she expected him to attack her or Aia, the spotted mare. Not hardly – Trell had given no offense, and Aia was the first creature to show him kindness since he’d been taken from his dam. As he was about to answer her, he saw the blue-striped Na’vi lay his ears back and abruptly start cropping grass, looking as if he’d much rather be taking chunks out of Dhras’ hide. The brindle stallion had to hide his grin, gloating. So the fancy peacock found himself upstaged, eh? Perhaps he shouldn’t have implied that he was more interested in the company of stallions than mares.

Aia added her request to Trell’s in a voice sweet as honey, and Dhras regarded her warmly as she gracefully included the rest. Well, perhaps no better way to get acquainted than to share stories of their pasts. He’d never had much cause to tell tales, but he didn’t want to sound like a fool, either. And Aia was interested in his story? Perhaps it was Dhras’ imagination, but she sounded much more intrigued by his tale than Na'vi's.

“Tis Dhras, milady Trell,” he told the blue-painted mare, using a term of respect he’d heard given to the older mares in a herd, those the youngsters looked to for instruction. Not that she looked old to him, simply that none of the phrases he typically used for mares were complimentary. “In the place where I cometh from, the City of Fire, there be many tales of Taishan – one of ye, who came amongst us and tarried awhile. He told the Dai’chon’s sacred herd that he and his people lived free, without the two-legs commanding every moment of their lives. Some sayeth he wast killed at the last ceremony of Dai’chon, when the god wast unmasked. Others say he grew wings and soared across the ocean. Still others say he swam the sea to return to his home, so great was his strength and stamina compared to the Daya. These legends also tell of a sacred pool that makes us Daya into unicorns.” He paused, pawing lightly at the grass as he decided how to continue.

“The stories spread through the sacred herd and through all the commoners. I myself wast neither a common gelding nor the sacred herd stallion. Some of us the two-legs made to run, bearing one of their number upon our backs. We were set against each other in contests of speed, whipped to make us runneth faster, whipped doubly if we lost the race in spite of all our efforts. Twas a cruel game of the two-legs, but one at which I often won.” He flicked his tail, thinking of how sore his haunches would be after a race.

“When I heard the tales I knew I would winneth free of those who had enslaved us all,” Dhras continued. “I madeth my escape by leaping a broken wall, and foundeth my way at last to your shores after many months of travel across land and sea. Twas birds, blue as summer shadows, who directed me to the Mere where I sipped and won my horn. Since then…”

Since then he had hidden as he’d hidden during the journey across the plains, trying to observe the unicorns without being seen, unsure of his reception among them. It was only when Na’vi’s appearance startled him that he reverted to instinct, acting like the stud he had been. Given time, he would have melted away and followed them, perhaps to try liberating the mares under cover of darkness.

Dhras decided on a measure of honesty. “Since then I wast not eager to approach ye, for ye are fearsome strange to one accustomed to the Daya. Graceful, aye, and lovely to look upon, but unlike my own people – and I learned today that ye are as different of mind and habit as ye are of mane and tail.” He rather liked that little simile, and glanced sideways at Aia to see what she thought of it. “But come, surely my story is nothing to such company as this. I would heareth of thy tales, Trell, and Na’vi also. And Aia, who loveth others’ adventures, surely thou hast some of thine own to share?”

Spite pulled herself to her feet as the sun began giving color back to the surroundings. Whipping her white and grey tail back and forth she used it as a brush to slough off the dirt and grass of the night. Particles rained down on her lightly snoring sib. The darker grey mare watched in amusement as her rose sib’s nose began to twitch.

Satisfied that all the dirt was removed that could be, and also tired of inflicting pain upon herself. The ends of her tail would hit her smooth side and nip like a small horde of insects pelting her. It wasn’t real pain, not like a bite or kick, and if the grey mare thought about it, the mild lashing didn’t hurt so much as was just uncomfortable.

The spotted mare stepped forward, tamping her feet, and making more loose dirt and dust fill the air. Spite walked forward, seemingly unnerved, as her sister began huffing, and spasming before releasing a mildly loud sneeze. The rosy mare shook her head snorting, before glaring at her sister.

Spite ignored her as she watched the dying embers of the small fire. Once again she wished she had been born a Valedweller to know such an art. To never be cold would be a great boon to her. Haltingly she fought with her tongue, were it would have so easily asked the grey stallion to teach her if he could. But to show such weakness would shame her, and not just in front of these few unicorns. Envy would never let it alone and every day the sun stallion woke, for as long as she lived, it would be a topic of harassment.

She turned away from the embers. It was time to leave now, there really wasn’t a reason to linger, to do so would only encourage conversation and increased familiarity. The grey sabino was about to walk down to the water’s edge to drink before departing, when her mother’s futile lessons in manners poked her in the hip. Her mother would have had her thank Auron for making the fire at her sister’s behest. But the spotted mare was too rebellious and rationalized to herself that Envy had only asked the stallion if he could make fire, not if he would make the fire for them. The stallion inferred it as a request and followed as such, and Spite was note going to thank someone for a bout of charity.

The grey mare shook herself and walked toward the tinkling sound of water. She was going to drink and then walk away, at least unless something interesting happened. Envy lurched to her feet with all the grace of a hobbled wyrm, and followed.

Spite and Envy (NPC)

This group just kept getting better and better! Phenex stood alone, ever-present half-insane smile in place, watching as his sib decided to end it all and run rampant by herself. Cut all ties and forget everything! How quaint, how amusing.

How...familiar.

His wicked smile grew when he realized just who the striped mare reminded him of. Perhaps they were all more alike than she realized.

Eager on revealing his newfound knowledge, knowing exactly what it could do to his sister, Phenex stepped forward a few paces, but even he had to stop and stare at the pale coated mare as she finally snapped. Lashing out with her hinds, calling Void a dog and scum and no better than the wolves she'd just impaled, Lumin had apparently seen the light and had enough of the oddly patterned stallion. Still more amusement for a twisted mind, and Phenex had to laugh as she started towards himself and Pelli. Striding forward, he nudged her shoulder almost companionably as they passed one another, murmuring a quick "took you long enough" before he moved on to his fallen sib.

"Another brilliant display of selfishness, sister dear! But I must confess....you remind me of someone. Care to know who?" His voice was bright, his smile in place, his mind working a mile a minute. Would Pelli or, Alma forbid, Void come to her rescue? Would they try to attack with hooves and horn and words? Could he get her to break down completely, or would she deny it?

Would she deny acting just like Wayra?

-Phenex

((Heh....my boy's just asking for a beating, isn't he? ))

Navaho glanced over at Elen as she caught up to him and quickly moved to walk beside him. He rolled his eyes as he watched her hold her head up then lower it again as if unable to make up her mind about whether to be depressed or strong. He ignored her antics though and simply kept scenting the air until he found what he wanted. He turned slightly, moving in the direction of the water. He rounded a hill, spotting the shimmering silver stream. It was rather comforting to see the shinning blue sliver in a green landscape rather than the brown rocks of the mountains. He sighed and walked forward taking a couple large mouthfuls of water before turning back; scenting the air one last time for predators, then lay on the grass, content. He let his head lie on the grass and, with eyes closed, began speaking to Elen, just chatting, something he had not done in a while.

“It is truly odd to be back on the Plains… I wouldn’t have said I missed it but it is strangely comforting to be back amongst green again. Would you not agree? That the living green of the hills is far better than the deadness of the Smoking Mountains, or in your case, the Salt Flats?” He opened an eye briefly to see her reaction then closed it again. “What do you plan on doing now anyway? I myself certainly don’t know… I kind of ran out here blindly. Perhaps you are running blindly as well.”

He said the last with the inflection of a statement rather than a question because he had a feeling that was what she was doing. Why else would anyone in their right mind spend any amount of time in the Salt Flats, let alone a probable max period of three months. He would have to watch his tongue though. He was rather beginning to enjoy this company. He found it fun goading her with seemingly innocent questions. He was certain that one would eventual hit upon something that would lead him to her reasons for staying in that wasteland.

~Navaho

He only smiles as nods as the strange mare explains her origins, wondering precisely what a Moondance is...although it must be related to a Longdance in some way. His mother had explained some things about dancing, it had been a very short conversation about running around, dancing in a circle. Loc can only guess that is what this mare is talking about...though he never knew they were called Moondances.

The heavy spotted stallion blinks down at the blue and chestnut mare, looking her over with surprised eyes when she comments so quietly on her own lack of partners at dances. He couldn't see anything wrong with her. She looks like a normal unicorn. No limp, no growths, hair loss or lumps...she seems pretty enough, even with his own limited concept of mare beauty. A moment passes in his brain, and adds to himself that she is kind of odd looking, the combination of colour was surprising....though no more odd looking than his sister.

As the mare speaks, he shakes his head, snorting, “My mother is from the Vale, my father, the plains...I was born in neither.” He turns nimbly on his heavy haunches, and nods towards the purplish, not-so-distant mountains, “I was born there. In a valley...in a grotto.”

He chuckles, eyes still lingering on that far distant place, “I discovered I had living siblings when my sister stumbled upon me,” He looks back towards the press of unicorns dancing about in the snow, “She came to my valley by sheer coincidence, being caught in bad weather. I know only of the Vale and Plains here through my parents, and what they remembered.” He shrugs a shoulder, and smiles at the mare again, listening as she asks if he would like to investigate this dance.

“Lead the way, Alo...I have never danced like this before...so I am sure this will be an education...” He bows his head towards the mare, and with a sigh, starts walking towards the grouping, reluctance and worry at making a fool of himself in every line of his body. He had an odd feeling this was going to involve tripping and flopping around like a dying fish.

-Tlaloc

((OOC: Short! D: But posted!))

The bluebacked mare couldn’t help that she was, in a way, jealous of the spotted stallion. Siblings, even though he hadn’t obviously known about them until recently, he had siblings. She halted briefly as she realized. He had lived up in the mountains, born there apparently, how couldn’t he have known…Oh…he mentioned that he was of mixed heritage…not only from the Vale but the Plains as well…just like her…could it have been the mother that strayed…or the sire…Either way…he had siblings and by Alma’s grace she had let them meet. Alo had never met the sister of Tlaloc in person, only seen her and couldn’t help but wonder if she was as nice and polite as her brother.

When they almost had reached the dancing thong of unicorns in all kinds of colors Alo thought she saw the spotted mare, sneering at the young filly with eyes that…if Alo hadn’t seen that the eyes belonged to one of her own kind then she would have guessed that those eyes had belonged to a pard. The young filly seemed to bounce back fairly quickly. Alo turned and smiled, a little uncertain. She remembered the last words from the stallion. “Worry not Tlaloc, you don’t have to get into the middle at once unless you want to feel like a nursling on shakey legs again. The twirls and spins are often fastest the further into the middle you get. You need to be quick minded and sure on your hooves. But…I'm sure you would be that since you lived…where you have lived? I'm sure it was very difficult among all those sharp rocks and cliffs.” Alo couldn’t help the admiration in her voice. The spotted stallion had to be very brave. She noticed a scar on his barrel that had to come from a cat. Yes, this must be a very brave stallion she was sure of that. The mare found herself staring and as she felt her ears getting hot she turned her face away. She acted worse that a lovestruck halfgrown, she couldn’t get away with such behavior anymore… Her dam would have snapped that she should act her years by now. Glancing up at him she spoke in her low sweet voice, the one that could soothe and calm a foal to sleep. “Perhaps you want to join your sister?” Alo caught the glimpse of a spotted hide amongst the dancers. She smiled sadly. The spotted mare had the attention of the grey stallion and several others; of this the grey seemed oblivious. Alo turned back to the stallion next to her. “But if you don’t feel like taking the plunge at once, you can stay here at the outer rims… and don’t you worry about the dance…just… just close your eyes, let the rhythm from dancing hooves and laughter fill you, feel Alma fill you with joy so great you just have to move, move to your heartbeat, to the heartbeat of the one next to you… rejoice Tlaloc…that…you are alive, healthy and among your kin…”

Alo smiled a heartwarming smile. She had never really felt that she belonged in the Vale. One couldn’t really tell of her mixed heritage, but many still detected it was something. It didn’t matter that Queen Tek’s dam was a Dayan. No, Tek were royal by blood, she was not. One didn’t tease one of royal blood. Furthermore, Alo’s dam wasn’t pledged and still she had foaled Alo. The bluebacked mare sighed. She would never know her sire, and she would never be able to find him either because she had nothing to go on, no name or description of pattern. Her dam had never revealed anything about him.

Speaking of finding one out here…the mare had given up on Lycarius. She knew it had been her fault in the first place but it was so typical that others assumed so much about her. Taking her actions and her thoughts for granted. Why had he just run off when he found her in the forest? He could at least have said goodbye and… She shook her head, making her mane move like a spirited mountainstream. If she could ban the thoughts of her foalhood friend she would. Why did she care so much about him still? The mare tried to do what she had instructed the stallion to do. Soon enough she felt herself getting drawn in by the semi silent rhythm and she moved around the stallion with light movements. She wasn’t as bold or danced as close as the spotted mare in the very center of the group of unicorns did. She didn’t even ‘accidently’ stroke the stallion with her shoulder or let her side or nose touch his. No, she danced around him much like a butterfly on a summer meadow. Light, airy and with such precise elegant movements they looked like they were some she had practiced on.

-Alo