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KENREN
ADMIN
CAVALLO
ADMIN
STAFFER NAME
POSITION
STAFFER NAME
POSITION
the world
Season: Summer Year: One
Major Weather: The summer is starting to show signs of being one of the worst yet, with temperatures already climbing and the water beginning to dry up in the furthest reaches of the South.
Of all the areas the common lands had to offer, the Devil's Spikes were the least likely to find a lone mare. Typically, they would avoid this place. The reason was simple: it wasn't safe. Normal mares would even travel miles out of their way to avoid the types which were known to roam here. But Valdis was not normal.
The well-built filly was confident as she made her way through the area, her silver tail swatting at flies as the assaulted her. Her blue eyes scanned the area ahead of her, and her audits flicked at the tiniest sounds, but even so, she found herself without much concern. A battle wouldn't cause her too much worry. What was the worst that could happen, after all? She could be killed and that wouldn't be so bad, at least her struggle to survive would be over.
She kicked a stone from her path as she wound around another spike, finding the quiet eery. What was happening? Why was the silence more deafening than a storm? She would have preferred a boring herd meeting to this nothingness. She'd have preferred anything.
Suddenly she lifted her head, her eyes narrowing. There was no denying it. Someone was there. She'd heard them.
Most wouldn't be found searching for potential herd members at the Spikes, even if they were desperate. It was the home of the ruffians and bachelors, and few wanted a challenge to their rule hanging around under their noses. That's why the upstarts were kicked out of their home herds to begin with, after all. But it was Kit's favorite place to scope, finding the sweltering heat somewhat soothing even as it dampened his pelt with sweat and burned the finer skin around his eyes. He wasn't afraid of having challengers under his roof, so to speak. Not because he was so confidence in his own skills that he believed himself untouchable, though he was aware of his own prowess and limitations, but because that was how you stayed sharp. Surround yourself by enemies and you become stronger. Did he want them constantly vying for his crown? Not really, he'd prefer loyalty, but loyalty took time and sharpening his skills was a good pastime while he waited.
He was surprised, he had to admit, when he scented a mare in the still air. He almost turned the other way - he wasn't looking to fill his herd with estrogen so stupid as to wander in here - but then he caught a glimpse of her. Well, that changed things. She was big, strong, muscled - shorter than him, but heavier built. Some stallions may not have found it attractive, and in truth Kit hardly saw anyone in that light, but as a man in search of warriors? Well. That was an entirely different discussion, wasn't it?
Her head rose when she heard him approach, wary but unafraid. Oh come now, he shouldn't be quite so excited by that, but he always got a thrill when he found what he hunted for. Kit wasn't one for small-talk, at least not unless it was necessary - then he was a straight-up conversationalist. Given his choice, though, he'd never talk to anyone but the brightest, the sharpest. But he didn't need her to be sharp, he needed her to be useful. Where did you learn to fight? he asked without preamble, thinking that that was the best way to get any of her ilk to open up. Unless, of course, he was completely wrong, but he rarely was. She had the scars, she had the posture. The confidence. And he read others well - it was how he'd survived this long.
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Valdis she doesn't have to go with him obviously, but he's super interested xD
She took a moment to observe the stallion who approached, deeming that he had the potential to become a threat although at this stage he seemed merely curious. She was thankful that he did not try to impress her with flowery language and got straight to the point rather than wasting time. Internally, she smiled to herself, but externally she maintained a neutral visage. She didn't want him thinking he'd impressed her.
"My mother," she responded carefully, not wishing to give too much away. "Although lessons have been learned since then, and will continue to be learned." It would not do to grow complacent, after all. When a warrior became too full of themselves was when they met with their end and, even though she did not fear death, she did not wish to meet the gods just yet. When her time came, she would give them a fight and a half before following them to new pastures.
But who was this stranger, anyway? He didn't exactly pass as the typical bachelor despite his scar-ridden pelt and brusque manner. "What of you? Clearly, you are no pampered colt. You have experience, and I would love to hear the tales of your adventures." It was a compliment - sort of. Her icy eyes slid once more over his dark form, returning to his mismatched orbits and holding contact. There was no disrespect, but she wasn't about to bow to his will either. She wasn't weak, and she neither needed or feared him, but at least he was more interesting than the sun-scorched rock. Not to mention that it had been too long since she'd exchanged words with another that did not involve threats or meanless flirting.
Her manner was calm, straightforward, and his approval was growing. His mind was shifting from evaluation to acquisition, gears whirring in search of the best route toward success. It all happened in moments, different scenarios, paths, and threads of the spider's web flashing through his mind at lightning speed. He settled on a half-smile - genuine enough, but not overly friendly or flirtatious. Honestly, the fact that she'd learned from her mother was next to useless to him - it told him nothing about high-adrenaline scenarios. But living on her own, and learning through survival? That he could accept, and respect.
Ah, but now she wanted to hear of his story. Sadly enough, it wasn't a story he'd ever told in full to anybody - not because he was ashamed, but because there was no use in putting information out in such an uncontrolled manner that didn't need to be there. What if this mare went on her way and told his story to another, and they knew someone from that Southern herd he'd abandoned? No use bringing potential trouble on himself if he could stop the train here. It was hardly an adventure. Just survival. It was said simply, without an ounce of the harshness he was so readily capable of. After all, was she truly wrong? It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the thrill of his captivity most of the time. Much better than being the doll his father had turned him into.
But fun as it was, the scars were etched into his coat, standing starkly white against the bay. Bites on his neck, his shoulders, his rump. But it wasn't without its uses. My name is Kitrasfel, lead of Faded Shadows in the Floodplains.In the North his father's prideful voice urged him, but Kit ignored it with pleasure. He'd won his land on his own, and while he relished the security of the resources, he wanted next to nothing to do with the other Northern brutes. He didn't keep his land secure because of some dysfunctional tradition - he wanted only to keep his herd safe and strong. The same as any lead should.
Survival. It was the task of all mortals, to cling to life in the conditions with which they were presented. The gods liked to challenge them, to check their mettle, and they were expected to rise to those challenges. Some failed, but others proved themselves time and time again. Even if the stallion's explanation hadn't given her much, it was enough. He was no pushover, and this pleased her.
Valdis nodded knowingly, his caution matching her own. He wasn't about to give her more than he needed and that was just fine. Her pale eyes glanced about them again, not lowering her guard in case others were about, before settling upon him once more.
His next words, however, came as a shock. The Floodplains... The north. He didn't seem like the typical self-important colt like others she'd had the misfortune to meet. Could he really be from the north? She guarded her shock carefully and instead bowed her head slightly in respect. All leaders deserved at least that - until they proved themselves unworthy at least. The gods didn't just hand out lands after all. Especially in the north. Everyone knew those lands were richer and more fertile than the southern territories and even the floodplains - aptly named - enjoyed greater bounty than their counterparts.
"Well met, Kitrasfel. I am Valdis, the lone war-maiden." It was important he knew she was no needy filly who was going to fall easily into some servitude. Of course, it was possible she would return to his lands but should he prove unworthy she wouldn't hesitate to walk away.
He would never have mistaken her for some lowly, frivolous thing, of course, but he still appreciated her self-introduction. Of course, a warrior was more than their title, but just given that she saw herself in that light meant she was worlds better than most females he'd come across. Which was a shame - they were the most underestimated, therefore incredibly useful to him.
Valdis, he repeated amiably, inclining his head a small amount in acknowledgement. Now came the hard part - she'd hidden her reaction well, but there was a curiosity present in her eyes that he wasn't unfamiliar with. Especially from Southerners, when they knew he lived in the North. He didn't qualify it though, or offer any platitudes - after all, he might not agree with the overall traditional attitude, but he also didn't just accept freeloaders into his land. He only accepted those that were useful.
Time to play his cards, then. Valdis, I'm looking for strong members to join my herd, and you're nothing if not that. It's not an easy life, but I think you'd appreciate it nonetheless. As far as it went, it was actually a pretty straightforward play from him. There wasn't any ulterior motive. There didn't need to be, with one such as her. She was either interested or she wasn't.
