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Post by Hud on Nov 13, 2011 11:21:38 GMT -5
A normal day for Rembrandt seemed eminent. The morning light had only just broken through the swamp's dense canopy and the Overseer of the Great Woods was drowsy, to say the least. He could frequently be found lying down, as he was at this moment on a sandy marsh shore. His tired eyes scanned the dirty water before him for any sign of danger. The coast looked clear to him.
Gavril was such a wonderful place. He counted himself lucky to live there every morning. The beauty that the marsh housed was not be undermined by any territory Rembrandt had ever seen and it was quite peaceful. The giant stallion's eyes blinked a few times before he slowly drifted off into sleep once again.
OOC: CRAP POST. I apologize for mah muse fail. D:
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Notes
Weanling
[M0n:1350]
[D3v:willowsdance ]
Posts: 105
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Post by Notes on Nov 13, 2011 12:05:07 GMT -5
Marcalie This was certainly a place that Marcalie had never been before. The light seemed to shine upon the lake perfectly, as if you were to move it slightly, a masterpiece would dance around on top of the swamp water. Of course her thoughts were weird, they always were. After all, they sometimes acknowledged herself as the most imaginative horse of her age.
When another horse came into her view, she let out a gasp of excitement. Not many people thought of a swamp as beautiful and many don't dare come in for fear that they would leave with a spot of mud on them. The stallion was sleeping and even from that view, she saw that their sizes weren't that far apart. She had traveled a lot. Slowly but a lot and she had never met anyone taller than 16 hands. You may think that it made you feel like a flea in a bundle of dog hair. Carefully stepping towards the perlino, she made sure not to step in anything that might dirty her soft feathers.
"Hello?"
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Post by Hud on Nov 13, 2011 20:52:59 GMT -5
Rembrandt was not immediately woken by the mare.
Lost in sleep, the stallion was tough to rouse. Dreams would often infiltrate his thoughts and captivate any attention he had in him, leaving none for the outside world. It was a weakness, to be sure. As he lie there, his legs appeared a bit muddy, as they often did. One could not spend a lifetime in the swamp and they not be. Even when he deigned it necessary to clean up (as often as that happened,) it became evident that they were possibly stained for life.
The longer he lie there, the more caked in mud his side became - little he cared. Still unaware of the mare's attempt at waking him, the peach-hued stallion continued sleeping, a snore beginning to make itself known. He was a great one for the snoring. Oh, had he heard her...
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Notes
Weanling
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Post by Notes on Nov 13, 2011 21:13:32 GMT -5
Marcalie The mare laughed loudly as a snore emerged from the stallion laying on the muddy ground. Though she was covered in mud, it was only evident in her white, now brown, stockings. Marcalie wasn't going to wake this stallion up, after all, he may be having the dream of his life. He could be swimming in the deepest ocean or gliding over the highest cloud. Marcalie smiled at the sleeping stallion, thinking about what she was to do next. It had been a long time since she had seen another horse and she wasn't about to walk away.
Instead of doing anything to disturb him, the black put her legs underneath her and laid there in the mud, next to the stallion, waiting for him to awake. With every snore that sounded from the dun, a small giggle came from the mare.
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Post by Hud on Nov 19, 2011 20:59:22 GMT -5
The black and white mare beside him was no where near the forefront of his consciousness. Unable to fully comprehend the dream which was occurring, Rembrandt's mind decided not to assign it any place in the stallion's memory. Instead, his mind wanted to rest calmly. Luckily for it, no approach of a quiet mare was going to disturb it.
The giggles came and went with every snore (something he seemed to do quite often). As he lie there near (but not too near) the water's murky edge, his ears became slowly aware of the stranger's laughs. They twitched a little, unsure of how to respond to his brain that Rembrandt was being disturbed. Finally the message was received and the stallion's blue eyes blinked open a few times.
Before turning to see who the perpetrator was of his awakening, he reached his massive legs out before him as he leaned a bit on his side. A good stretch under his belt, the second step towards true awakening was what followed: a long yawn. Blinking more, he pulled his neck in towards his chest to turn his neck and see the mare.
Clearly he'd provided a show or she wouldn't have made the noise to wake him, right? Remmy was not exactly in a state to decipher others' meanings by their actions just quite yet. A blank stare and a smile at the girl was meant to show that he was no threat to her. It wasn't as if she seemed frightened, anyway.
"Ah shuppose you'll be wantin' a greetin', den?"
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Notes
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Post by Notes on Nov 20, 2011 21:37:16 GMT -5
Marcalie As the stallion got up, mud fell. It fell on her and the already muddy floor. Normally she would scringe at the imperfection of the wet dirt but she was always to let the swamp to be the exception. Letting out another giggle, she got up from the ground and stared at the stallion's blue eyes with her own brown ones with her usual large smile. Hi! My name is Marcalie. Yours? The stallion was about her size, give or take a few inches. But still, they could make eye contact without someone looking down and someone looking up.
occ: AHH horrible muse fail
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Post by Hud on Nov 22, 2011 23:48:26 GMT -5
Rembrandt watched his intruder stand with a smile on his face. He was as pleasant as he could be from his spot on the ground, taking his own time to stand. The mare seemed a little too happy, though Remmy had never been one to suppose.
"Rembrandt," he said slowly. Ordinarily, he'd greet with much more formality and gaiety, though just after a nap was an unfortunate time to meet someone for him. He struggled to act himself: "How you can be lyin' dere for so long wiffout my wakin' up? You mus' be a qui-et one!" Remmy did his best to wake up as he spoke, speaking quickly and with purpose as he rolled his neck around in an effort to stretch out his muscles.
"Might Ah ask what'chu be doin' in Ga-vril, Miss Marcalie?"
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Notes
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Post by Notes on Nov 25, 2011 19:04:20 GMT -5
Marcalie Marcalie had never given much of a thought of why she always had a smile on her face. She liked to think it was because she was worth it. She deserved being happy. After all the things she does to keep everything perfect for not only her but everyone around the black mare, she should have the right to be happy all the time.
"Hello Rembrandt!" Her smile was still heavily evident on her face as she continued to stare at the perlino stallion. Letting out a soft laugh as the stallion spoke, she replied. "Well perhaps your snoring droned my laughing out." Sounding out another giggle, the mare watched as the stallion stretched his muscles. When the stallion asked her what she was doing the swamps, she knew her answer. "Well, I love the swamps. They seem perfect and nothing changes." Looking away from the dun for a moment, she looked around her muddy surroundings. The last words were more like a whisper, not meant for anyone to hear.
"Perfect."
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Post by Hud on Nov 30, 2011 19:07:54 GMT -5
"'Nudding changes'?! Sha, whut kindda swamp you been spendin' tahm in?" Rembrandt chortled. He figured the mare could take such a response of utter disbelief. She seemed to be partial to the swamp as he was, and yet he could not believe that Marcalie had ever existed in one for a long period of time if she thought Gavril never changed.
The perlino glanced around at what his visitor had looked at and saw the very evidence to prove his point surrounding them right now. The lilies carpeting parts of the bayou's pond moved every day and so did the banks themselves. Gavril was a constant maze that no one equine could master, but boy did Remy try. He was the king of the sopping maze. His neck having arched as he laughed, Remy brought his head back up to meet his black-and-white visitor's as he calmed his laughter.
"Ah like you - you make meh laugh!" With his seal of approval, Remy lightly but playfullt nipped at Marcalie's withers. She could be a fine addition to his kingdom...
OOC: "tahm" = "time" :]
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Notes
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Post by Notes on Nov 30, 2011 20:36:34 GMT -5
Marcalie Marcalie joined in on his laugh. What she said was rather strange. If one spent all their time at a swamp, you could see the small details -- the tranquil but soft sound of the water and the sound of the croak of a frog or a toad every once in a while. The stallion was right. everything changes. Well, almost everything.
"What I meant was that nothing major changes. I know that the water moves constantly and the moss and mud follow them but the trees are the same, the branches, the stumps." Turning at the stallion with her smile, she let out a giggle as Rembrandt nibbled at her withers. "Well, Rembrandt. What would you be doing here?" The perlino dun didn't seemed like someone who was just passing through. Perhaps he was liek her, a horse who was just looking for a home.
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Post by Hud on Dec 3, 2011 16:15:09 GMT -5
Rembrandt still wasn't too convinced the mare was as well-versed as she tried to portray herself as. It didn't matter though - everyone was welcome!
The black and white mare was charming, if nothing else. She had nothing but a smile on her face and he could already consider her a friend. "Well Ah'm da ovah-see-yuh'a dis part'a da Northern Kingdom. Ah've lived here awl mah life!" He spoke with a smile and a particular glow as he spoke of his home with such an adoring tone of voice.
OOC: SHORT. BLAME IT ON MY DAD FOR CUTTING ME OFF. xDD
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Notes
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Post by Notes on Dec 4, 2011 21:14:36 GMT -5
Marcalie If it wasn't for the stallion to state it, she would have never have thought that the stallion was overseer. Of course he wasn't king but the mare knew that the title was second best. It was evident that the perlino had lived in the swamp for a long time. He seemed to know every nook and corner of the Gravil. Perhaps this stallion was what she needed. The one step towards perfection.
The question that Marcalie had in her mind though was a rather sudden and strange one that one didn't ask everyday. "Well would you possibly let me stay in your kingdom?"
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Post by Hud on Dec 6, 2011 16:13:24 GMT -5
Rembrandt yawned loudly as he remembered how this meeting had begun. His afternoon nap was a tradition of his that he always made sure to carry out. He in no way meant to accuse the mare of being a distraction and collected himself quickly with a goofy smile. She wanted to stay!
"Why evuh would Ah not? You always welcome, Miss Mar-ca-lie!" he said deliberately, making each syllable of the black and white mare's name stand out. Rebrandt was always willing to allow new members into his quickly-growing herd, especially those of the opposite sex. Mares meant his legacy could continue, though he never pretended it didn't already. His son Landry was living proof of that, no matter how far he might've traveled by now. Brought back from his distant memories, Rembrandt swished his orange tail back and forth slightly in a bit of a wagging motion to show his willingness to let her stay.
OOC: Want me to add her to the herd list? :]
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Notes
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Post by Notes on Dec 9, 2011 17:05:31 GMT -5
Marcalie The mare loved the stallion's accent. He pronounced words strangely that you have to think for a moment before realizing what he says. And what came out with his accent as he spoke overjoyed the mare. She had never had intentions of being in a herd when she was young. It was never something that she wanted to have -- or even thought about. But a herd to her meant safety. Something safe. Something perfect.
Marcalie smiled with a sincere smile back at the perlino's goofy one. She liked this stallion that she had only known for a few minutes and hoped that they would be flawless. It was definately something she wanted.
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Post by Hud on Dec 12, 2011 20:07:54 GMT -5
OOC: This seems like as good a place as any to end. Want me to add her to the herd list? :]
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