Egotism is so cliched

[huma]

The wind sighed softly as if all the joy had been sucked out of it. Each caress fingered through the strips of dark brown tendrils, longingly touching it as a man with little hope would finger something he’d never possess. Words, jumbled into a cluster of dark whispers, took flight, following wherever the haggard wind took it. Some were louder than others while a few were little above a whisper, but they were there as clearly as the sky was. Morgrim could not see the horses talking through his cataract filled left eye, but he heard every word that spewed like the toxic waste that spilled out of the pipes and into the ocean. Nothing here was to be trusted, nothing and no one; every word they said, and every action they took was venomous. All they did was coax trouble out of others, laying victim to anyone foolish enough to let them. Lowering his foxy face down to the soft bed of grass, the dark brown stallion gazed through a veil of eyelashes and watched the horses gathered before him. It was all just one big disaster, or at least an accident waiting to happen. Horses gathered to comfort each other with their presence, or at least that was his intake on things, and when a big cluster of them came together, well…things tended to happen. The Anglo Arabian let out a small scoff, blowing bits of grass about, as he observed them with his right eye; to get a better view, the stallion was forced to tilt his head towards the left a little bit. Though he watched them with a critical eye, his ears were facing elsewhere. Because of his handicap, Morgrim had to be extra careful, more so than others; his left eye was more troublesome than t and sometimes it just exasperated him to no end. It was true that his ability helped him in many ways, but it couldn’t help him everytime and so he had been forced to hone his other senses. The ugly scar ran angrily down from his left eyebrow bone and down to his cheek; it was an old scar and now faded nicely against his dark skin, but the point was that the wound had left its mark physically and mentally. The pain that had come when Morgrim had been struck in the face was nothing compared to the dull, everlasting throb that continued to haunt inside him, but he refused to let it show. He’d learned long ago that emotions could be easily used and twisted to be morphed into something darker, more sinister and he had learned to hide what he truly felt inside. No one would dare take advantage of him ever again. Grimacing slightly, Morgrim turned his head fully around, disinterested in the other horses now, and took to finding a comforting spot under the canopy provided by the forest. His lithe body slithered silently under the tree canopy, his wisps of hair tangling in the air like the mane of Medusa; each tendril coiled and writhed much like the vile snake hair of the Gorgon.

He was nothing like the scarecrow of a horse he had been as a young stallion, no, now his body was lean and long like an Anglo Arabian should be and his long legs rippled with sleek muscle under his glossy dark brown coat. Oh, he was no god, Morgrim didn’t believe in deities, didn’t worship them mindless like some stupid fanatic, but he did believe in the rankings. Where were they when things turned sour? Sour. That was exactly the situation they were in right now; three separate herds of horses with three different ideals and two trying to usurp the other. Hah. He was an Aurora horse, there was no doubt about that, and he wasn’t going to let some herd of talent less horses tell him what was right and what was wrong. Morgrim knew his ability was freaky and oft times he found a certain sense of enjoyment in showing it off and he loved to do it at the neutral zone where those “normal” horses couldn’t do anything. Exactly what was holding them back was beyond him. Maybe it was some sort of cosmic power tethering them from ripping his throat out or maybe they were just afraid they might be a poor victim of some psychotic horses mad rampaging. Whatever it was, it was amusing while it lasted. Another scoff blew out as he nestled himself onto the soft bed of grass. They were like mindless zombies. When massed together, their own sense of right and wrong were pushed back making way for senseless, stupid battles and pointless riots. The one who lead that group had to be a horse with a talent for speaking. One can do a lot of things when they had the power of speech by their side. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. Ah, but he was being hypocritical now; a smile crooked up as he wondered about the same predicament the Auroras were in. Weren’t they also amassing under one banner just because they viewed the other as a lower race? Did he see those Appelle as freaks? No, he just saw them as a boring group of equines. Morgrim didn’t really care for them and if it came down to choices, he’d just leave them alone. Hey, he was a hormonal fellow. There might be some delicious meat running around with those dreary sort of horses. Okay, so not everything had to be about sex, but Morgrim saw himself as a philanthropic fellow and he liked to contribute to society.

The thick puff of clouds covered the majority of the blue sky, obscuring a part of the sun and he saw it all through the gaps between the tree branches and through the green leaves. Shafts of light speared down, pooling a large area in a dust of gold. A tingle of warmness played down his spine. Though he was in the shade, a part of him was still exposed to the sun and he didn’t mind that simply because of the knowledge that he could just roll away at any given time. Shaking his head, tangles of his thick mane whipped to the other side of his neck, snaking themselves around each other. The day was boring, but it was still quite warm. At night it was cooler, of course, and he didn’t really like the cold. His thin skin and his bloodline did not equip him with the necessary means to survive under cold climates. He was of a line of horses who were mores suited for warmer climates and his Arabian blood gave him the ability to survive hot climates. Of course, his father was a thoroughbred and his mother was a full blooded Arabian and though his mind was like his mothers, his coat color and height was from his father. It made him feel better to know that he was the first Anglo Arabian in his family tree, or at least he liked to think that way. Egotism wasn’t usually his thing, but in this case he felt that it should be an exception. A stallion was allowed to make himself feel better once in a while, right? Dark shadows played up and down his skin as the ray of light speckled up his spine and washed down his mane. The light and shadow were mere mottles of dots against his dark brown coat and it felt rather refreshing, to say the least. Now, Morgrim did not mind being by himself, sometimes it felt good to just get away from others and brood, nor did he mind when company came. He liked to be social, though sometimes a few horses did mildly irritate him. Right now, he didn’t care who he talked to at the moment or what was going to happen.

[Artemis]

Artemis' ivory body gleamed as she made her way along the Epis River. Twin harks were pricked atop of her head, acoustics cupping any faint noise that might come to them. Warm amber orbs, almost golden, glimmered in the warm sunlight that cascaded down through the trees. Her hooves sank into the soft dirt, leaving perfect impressions behind. Long ivory banner whipped from side to side, thwacking against her flanks, keeping away unwanted pests that swarmed around her in annoyance. Flints moved in sync, carrying her lovely carcass forward.

Sure, Artemis was slightly arrogant, and conceited. She knew she was pretty and knew it because she was the the lead of Magarus. A gentle breeze whipped her long ivory mane forward, tickling her jowls and cheeks. Her forelock danced against her forehead, and tickling over her eyes. As she neared a particular spot, the wind brought her the scent of a stallion. Smirking, she pressed on ward and eventually spied the bay brute. She approached him, stopping a respectful distance from him, letting her back leg bend so that the hoof rested on its tip. Whithers spazzed, keeping away unwanted pests that swarmed around her in annoyance. She kept her eyes on him and parted her velvet lips as she began speaking to him.

"Hello. I'm Artemis. What is your name?" she inquired of him.

Both harks were turned toward him, to show him that she was respecting him. She blinked, watching his movements unsure if he was a Appelle or an Agaptus or even one of her alliance, Auroras. If he started anything, she would just be able to use her powers to get away and no one really dared to harm her anyway. Above, the clouds drifted lazily across the baby blue sky. She briefly raised her eyes to the sky before returning her eyes back onto the brute.[/blockquote]

[huma]

Darkness slashed over the trees, ripping through the leaves and settling silently over the soil. Like mischievous imps, the shadows danced up and down the forest, following the contours of the tree, sliding down the branches cat-like and slipping behind the bushes like a predator stalking its prey. Mocking. That’s what they did, mock everyone and everything, their sly eyes always watching those silly mortals, giggling over everything that piqued them, but the shadow was a small factor against a darker, more sinister figure. However much the shadow played their games, they were just a small shadow compared to the darkness that lurked in the deepest pockets of the world. Perhaps darkness only came out at night, or perhaps it came out even during the day, slithering into the minds of any ignorant enough to forget it. Some might welcome it, worshipping it like a fervent follower adulating their deity, but they were mere puppets in a world filled with something even the most blackened heart could never grasp. Others might try to strike it down, wishing to cleanse the world of it, revolting at the mere foul scent; they were idiots too. How can light live without darkness? They needed the other like a horse needed a brain to live. Darkness balanced out light and vice versa. To live without the other would surely plunge the world into a beautiful chaos. Muscles rippled smoothly under his thin, dark brown skin as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Glimmering like a pair of sadistic onyx jewels in the shadow of the trees, Morgrim’s dark eyes watched with wry amusement, gazing intriguingly at the few other horses now scattered about. Darkness, with its thick tentacles, had a tight hold of his heart, tainting it with a paint of glossy blackness. Did that make him evil? No, he liked to consider himself an open-minded fellow, willing to listen to others meager opinions before deciding what suited him. Was he greedy? Perchance, he might be a bit of an avaricious horse, but perfection was so outdated, just like those clichéd heroes, and he conformed to be himself.

Straggles of black hair wrapped their fingers around his black legs, clinging closely against his skin; his shadowy black hair slashed their way down his neck, a perfect blend to his dark hued form. More of his hair slipped down his face, but did not cover his eyes, not even his left one. Shame was a voracious beast, eating anyone who dared to even come close to its maw. Merciless and cruel, humiliation was not a forgiving beast. What was he to gain by hiding behind a wall of black mane, hoping pitifully that no one might see his defect? Well, he. Morgrim, was a prideful beast, a sad paradox considering the dangers of pride, and he was not prone to being timid or afraid. It was an ugly scar that both revealed a part of his history and hid it behind a veil that would not be so easily ripped aside. The single milky white eye gazed stoically ahead, a cold reminder of what happened, but also a reminder that he had found a way to overcome the obstacle. Had he bowed down to it, given up because of the difficulties that had come, Morgrim knew deep down that he would have fallen into the bloodied hands of death. Nature was an unforgiving creature, warm and caring but vindictive. Those who allowed themselves to fall into the depths of oblivion were likely to be forgotten, but he had not allowed himself to fall over the cliff just because of his left eye. No, he was not someone who gave up so easily. The sweet perfume of the forest lingered daintily in the air, filling his scent with its woodsy smell. The saccharine scent was a good way to relax himself, to wet his mind to other, lesser disasters. In reality, he did consider his eye a disaster, a turmoil he kept at bay and in check. Though it held no special power, it had one power and that was the blindness. With only one eye to see, at times he had found it especially difficult to get around. In clustered forests such as this, he often found himself second guessing his steps just because of the feeling that a tree might be in the way or the ground below him might be uneven. It was all just a horrible, melancholic catastrophe.

The gentle wind, cool against his skin, caressed its fingers up and down his form, playing along the contours of his body with feather-like touches. It swirled around his head, tugging his hair childishly before sliding down his arched neck to tickle his tail before slipping away. This cool, relieving touch did not drive away the devilish gleam in his dark, hooded eyes. Narrowed and amused, Morgrim turned his gaze away from the lingering horses to another, more alone figure. A creature of his opposite in color, Morgrim watched the light hued mare approach him. Well, it wasn’t as if he was expecting someone to come join his one man tea party, no, but he also wasn’t expecting to lengthen his time alone. Turning his elegant head to one side just for him to gaze at her with his right, Morgrim watched her progress with a held calmness. The trees swayed above him, tragically forgotten by the dark wraith that stood beneath them; a heartbeats pause, Morgrim considered stepping out from the cool shade to approach her, but his mind whispered heatedly back. It would be too warm for him to tear himself away from a spot he had chosen and it was just not him to do such a thing. A leaf, its three forked sides the width of his hoof, twirled gently down, torn but left behind by the wind. Landing on a spot beside him, it crackled when he placed his hoof over it. Morgrim shifted in his place, moving so that he faced her directly before tilting his head once more. His heart pound softly inside, beating a steady drumbeat against his chest; his breath rattled out from between his soft, velvet lips, slipping his tongue out to slowly wet them. The wraith did see her as pretty, but he wasn’t some uncontrollable, hormonally charged beast who lifted every girl’s skirts with no consideration of the consequences. There were times to think about sex and there were times to think about things other than the next partner. He was in control of his own cravings and he wasn’t going to permit himself to be taken over by his primal instincts. A voice like the sound of red wine pouring into a crystal cup, Morgrim responded to her inquiry about his name. “Morgrim.” Dropping his head slightly in silent greeting, the dark brown wraith mulled over his next words. It was oft times difficult to tell who was an Aurora or not and sometimes he withheld the urge to ask. It was wholly wrong to categorize each other into groups, but identification was a comforting feeling. To know what they were, their name and what they fell into was an all too warming feeling and to lose that…well, it was just asking for a bit of havoc. “…what are you?” The question was asked hesitantly, something quite rare when it came to Morgrim who was always sure of himself, always confident with what he did and how he thought, but this, well this was a question that placed the both of them into an awkward situation. The speckles of light from the sun, a warm touch against his skin, cast a soft halo of light over the half that was out of the shadow. His other half, pooled in the cool darkness, nearly blended into the shadows. Morgrim couldn’t deny that he wasn’t a creature of the shadow, nor was he going to feel bad about it either. To be quite honest, he liked the feeling of lurking in the dark crevices of the world, watching with eyes that few had. The powerful feeling that came with it was intoxicating indeed.

[Artemis]

Artemis snorted through her tear dropped shaped nares and woofed gently. She raised a hind leg up belly level before stomping it back down again, relieving some tension in her muscles. She watched him, silently glad that he wasn't some raging hormonal stallion wanting to impose himself on her at the slightlest opportunity. She head him speak. His name was Morgrim. She nodded in respect to his name and then heard him ask what she was. Artemis grinned and parted her velvet kissers as she began responding to him.

"First, I am the Lead of Magarus, secondly, I am from the Aurora alliance. And what about you, Morgrim?" she asked him smoothly in a velvet tone, almost like a soft purr. She spurred her flints into motion and slowly began moving toward him, but still not imposing on his personal space. She stopped diagonally from him and let her back leg bend so that her hoof rested on its tip. She could feel the warm sunlight on her ivory pelt. She flicked her long alabaster banner, letting the cords whip against her flanks as she stood there, watching him with her warm amber orbs. She parted her kissers again and spoke to him.

"May I ask what brings you out on a day like this?" She asked him curiously, licking her bottom lip. She extended her front fore leg out , and lowered her crania, rubbing her nares against her upper knee. A few flies had bitten her and caused itchy welts to form on her delicate skin. Twin harks flicked every once and a while, hearing that annoying buzzing sensation in her ear drums. Another gentle breeze toyed with her long mane, fluttering it against her neck. Forelock danced against her long facade, and over one of her warm eyes, shielding it from view. Whithers rippled, keeping away pesky flies and biting nuissances. She blinked.

So far, he wasn't disrespecting her, which was a major plus in her eyes. Some of the stallions had a bad habit of being sardonic and rude and then trying to mate with her. Though it wasn't breeding season yet, they still thought it would be fun to try anyway. After a while, Artemis had used her power against them. Eventually, she became impowered and was now basically her own boss. She never lets anyone push her around. It would be the last thing they ever did. Artemis waited for Morgrim to respond.