You, Her, and I (open)

[nala]

Sophie

"I simply think that we should not soil ourselves in that retched salt water and then role about on the beach like heathens." Vicky was adamant today, choosing to pick a fight with Amber after yesterday's little parade of tantrums.

"What the hell's wrong with the water!?" You could tell Amber wasn't too angry yet, but Vicky was treading on thin ice. Sophie dreaded the times that the two thick headed personalities went at it. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with that water!"

"Huh," huffed the other voice. She hadn't given up; silence was just Vicky's way of dealing with her anger.

Hey guys, Called the grulla islander. Guys, you don't have to get mad. Stella and I already decided we'd stay by the tree's today. Sophie felt the other voice's presence, but the timid one of the three still hadn't spoken. When Vicky and Amber fought, Stella and Sophie comforted each other. Yesterday, Sophie knew that Stella needed to stay by her favorite trees today. An ominous front was threatening the quiet one, a front that brought an emotional breakdown with it.

"Well I don't like the trees." Amber hotly expressed her feelings.

"You don't like anything." Vicky responded.

During the whole conversation Sophie walked alone along the island, listening to the bickering within her head. If only she could have one quiet day, if only.

[Silver]

The rain was rather intrusive on what should have been a satisfying nap. Each raindrop somehow felt that its sole mission was to land smack on her nose, causing her to snort and snuffle like some ungodly piggish creature. Still, she refused to open her eyes. I will not be bested by something as small as rain, she thought. The droplets coursed down the fat, green jungle leaves and created tiny waterfalls from the tip of each of these. It was wet in this part of the island – which was a blessing for the things that grew from the earth – and she was not as appreciative as she supposed she should be. A great, fat drop of rain promptly dislodged itself from the end of its banana leaf and proceeded to plant itself on the bridge of her nose, finally cracking the mask of serenity that she held in place. “Oh damn you!” she said, shaking her head and spraying water everywhere. There was something irritating about water that fell from the sky at the most inopportune moments. Sighing with annoyance, she stretched her tired limbs and began to walk.

Wet twigs and branches cracked underfoot, while the birds refrained from singing, preferring to stay dry and cozy with their small bird families. Ines swung her tail and again sprayed an unsuspecting tree with a small quantity of water. Eventually she exited the rain and found herself in that which was worse than rain: a thick misty fog. How many times had she lost herself in this god-forsaken phenomenon? Too many times. It was like this during the winter months on the island; a large fog would drift down to mark the barrier between mild sun and unrelenting rain. She knew that there was warmth on the other side of the misty wall – she’d lived here all her life – but getting through it was a damn hard thing in itself. Twice she almost came head to head with a tree standing like a long sentinel prepared for a coming war, only to sense it just in time and swerve. Granted, she wasn’t going very fast at all, perhaps no faster than a walk, but when one is that blind, anything can result in a great injury. And perhaps there was to be a war soon, but it wouldn’t happen on the island. “But when it does, I’ll be there.”

And she would be there, if fortune held and she survived the swim across to the mainland. Of course, the thought of venturing away from her only home frightened her. The swim was perilous, but she had been swimming since she was old enough to feed upon the grass instead of her mother’s milk. That was not the problem. The problem was leaving the island in the hands of the oaf that had claimed them after the King’s death. There were few horses living on the island anymore, but of what she knew, many of them were either foreigners from the mainland who knew nothing of the proud history of the island or poor excuses for natives. The quality of horses here has certainly downgraded, she mused. The fog thinned slightly, and she could see further than she could have a moment earlier. Yes, the problem was leaving her beloved island to someone who would most likely bring it to ruin. Her mother would never have stood for the kind of rule that was being enforced now – she would probably keel over from the utter foolishness of the current ruler. Ines nearly missed a step, just thinking about her mother. The sweet, proud silvery mare echoed in her dreams still, making her heart ache for the last of the family that she had. Her mother, not the King’s favorite mare, but a noble one nonetheless, had raised her with a kindness that she would give to each of her own children. If I ever do have any. Growing up as she did, Ines didn’t need the kind of love that other mares did. In fact, any of her relationships with others had been ones of convenience.

The fog finally cleared and she was left blinking in the soft – yet bright – sunlight that warmed the sandy beaches of Kelonu. She did want foals, perhaps one, but she refused to find a suitable mate among the lazy native stallions that roamed the island. The sun was drying the dampness from her black and white coat, and she shook her head to clear them of those thoughts. She would not leave her island as long as an incompetent imbecile was in command. Stepping out onto the beach, she marveled once again at the beauty of the sea even in the winter. The water was seven shades of turquoise and shifted constantly in the sun. The familiar beauty of such a sight almost prevented her from noticing that there was another horse in the vicinity. The other was simply walking among the trees. Ines snorted. Trees were all well and good, but when compared to the sea, she would choose the latter each time. Rather than address what she assumed to be another rather unsuitable native, she lifted her feet and trotted to the waves, reveling in the warm water lapping around her fetlocks. The other would notice her sometime.

ooc: Giant back-to-rping post!

[nala]

Sophie

"See. Do you see that!" Came the voice of Amber. She was yelling at all of the others not just Vicky, yet she chose to pick on her exclusively. "That mare is in the water. That mare is having fun."

"That mare," Vicky scoffed. Sophie could picture the mare in her head, holding her nose in the air as she addressed Amber. "Is now filthy and wet." She continued her mood as the two argued; she was always the better of the four, or so she thought.

"Who is she? I've never seen her before?" Came a quite mumble from deep within Sophie's thoughts. The normally silent Stella, had taken notice as all four mares watched the black mare in the water.

Sophie had no choice in the matter. When Stella chose to spoke she had the most influence over the physical body of the four. Quietly, they moved forward, one step in front of the other. Sophie's eyes were wide for three reasons. Amber was excited. Vicky was horrified. And Stella was extremely interested.

ooc: SILBUHHHHH!!!!

[Silver]

The little hairs on her back twitched and stuck out blindly at all angles as they dried in the sun. The only wetness now was that of her feet that were intrenched in the waters of the island’s beach. To and fro, back and forth went the waves, sucking gently at her bones; they urged her to surrender to the siren-esque beauty of the ocean. Every colour of blue, turquoise and green surged through the shifting landscape. You couldn’t ever see the same colour twice in one spot. Seldom did you ever even see that colour again. Ines breathed in the salty air and held it, willing the sea to cleanse her and relax her. Her mane wafted gently around her face with the wind and her nostrils flared as she let the breath out. Small schools of colourful fish danced around her hooves and she was careful not to move, lest she frighten the little creatures. She was just debating on whether or not to break the silence and tranquility and venture deeper into the water when the sound of hooves moving over sand caught her attention.

Unwilling to disturb the fish just yet, she let her ears follow the sound, swivelling to catch the exact placement of the quiet stranger. Just behind her then, and a little to the left. Slowly, as to refrain from shifting her weight and upending a large cloud of white sand into the water, she turned her neck around and fixed one soft brown eye upon the other horse. The mare – for it was a mare, or a rather feminine stallion if it were male – was a light mousy colour, more gray than brown. White broke up the solid colour of her coat, but created a rather comical marking on her face where it turned up into the mimickry of a smile. She moved cautiously, so Ines was content to let her finish approaching and watch the sea life in the meantime. The tide was slowly moving out, so that she wasn’t standing so deep in the water anymore. It had almost declined to the top of her hooves, and the fish were starting to retreat back into deeper pools. Salt clung to her short fetlock hairs and made them crusty as it dried, but it was a small price to pay for the pleasure of the ocean and all of its teeming mysteries.

When the mare came within kicking distance, Ines finally moved her body around. The sand made sucking noises when she pulled her feet out. At first, she was rather content to just stand and look at the mare, who was classified – in Ines’ mind at least – as a sort of islander/foreigner hybrid. She wasn’t quite comfortable as most of Ines’ friends had been (before they left of course) but nor was she lost. At last, curiousity and a sense of duty to represent her home and the hospitality they had once employed got the best of her and she dipped her head slightly. “Greetings,” she said. There were other, more formal gestures that could be applied to the situation but she really didn’t feel like they were needed. After all, it was the other mare that approached her first, not the other way around. She did remain aloof and emotionally distant from any kind of attachment that might come with this horse and their meeting, however. Her first duty was to her family, of which she had none, and her second was to her island. Nothing more should be attached lest it bring a divide between her ties to home.

A soft breeze played with her long tail hairs and those of the other mare, who seemed almost frightened to be within speaking distance of another equine. Amused and somewhat suspicious, Ines said nothing. She wondered dimly if this mare had met the juvenile who had claimed her island, and what – if she had met him – her opinion was of him. Personally Ines saw him as lazy and unsociable; traits which would not do for a King of Kelonu. No, there would have to be something done about him, even if she had to do it herself.

ooc: GASP! Another long post! I love Inny. And hi dere Nalala!

[nala]

Sophie

Stella was so frightened when the black mare spoke, she nearly sent Sophie's hooves unwillingly thundering back to the trees. The only thing keeping the painted mare still was the fact that Amber had just as much power at that moment, and she still wanted to go swimming. "Say hello. Say hello, Sophie!" shouted the hot little mare in her head. "Don't be rude; say hello."

Um, hi. She choked out, completely overwhelmed by the silent beings fighting for opposite controls within her. Sophie could no longer hear Stella's worried mumbles, but she felt her pushing back and in turn she felt her weight shift towards her rear legs.

"Way to be calm about it." Exclaimed Vicky irritably. Sometimes this mare wished she could control Sophie's mouth so that such ghastly things wouldn't escape. "If you're going to say hello say it like you mean it." Sophie's body moved a step forward, and she felt an uncontrollable urge to speak again.

My name's Sophie. A grin of fear was forged onto her face as she watched the black mare before her. She knew she must have looked insane, but then again, she kind of was.