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Post by skibbereenfarms on Oct 22, 2011 11:07:28 GMT -5
 He despised being in open areas; they were usually where horses congregated the most, and he was never really in the mood for a conversation. That's why the stallion usually found himself wandering in wooded areas rather than open plains, and it just so happened to be where the stallion was roaming today. Though he remained in the woods, he did his best to avoid the lake itself, for he assumed someone would be stopping by for a drink. Seeing as he was in a bit of a bitter mood today (but really, when wasn't he in a bitter mood?), he knew it would be best to avoid all conflicts, unless of course he wished to add to his "collection" of scars. What he really needed was something to calm him, but the issue was that he had no idea what could calm him. He just seemed to be so frustrated all the time. No one could be trusted.
So with a frustrated snort, the stallion trotted off, head pointed down. Truth was, he didn't know what to do with himself. Something was missing within him, but he lacked the attitude to figure out what that was. After a while, he simply became bored of trotting and resorted to pawing at trees. He picked one skinny tree and simply attacked it. He probably would have appeared insane to anyone who dared to approach. His anger escalated; after a while, he began whinnying and basically snarling. He was a danger to himself and everyone else. He couldn't explain why he was doing this. It was as if all natural thought left him, and the crazed animal within was left to destroy whatever was in its path. |
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Post by Padfoot on Oct 22, 2011 12:07:23 GMT -5
Pheobe
It really was a beautiful day. The beginning of spring was still fresh in the air, and a light mist clung to the tree trunks, beading on the new ferns that rustled as Pheobe walked through them. Flowers had already begun to bloom around the path, and a few pink and red petals had nestled themselves in the appaloosa mare's long, slightly tangled mane, brightening up the smooth black-and-white-spotted coat. She had always loved the forest, with the trunks and leaves muffling sounds; it gave the illusion of being totally alone, but with the added bonus of occasionally running across another horse. It was nice and quiet and serene.
Or, at least most of the time. Now Pheobe seemed to be wandering towards a horse that was making a great deal of noise, whinnying and snarling like it was in a fight, even though the mare could neither hear or smell another horse. As she came closer, the breeze blew the smell of a stallion and the scraping of hooves against something--possibly a tree. So, of course, she continued to walk towards the noise, driven, as always, by her own curiousity and a certian inability to leave well enough alone. It didn't take long to find the stallion; with as much noise as he was making, the mare would have had to be incredibly stupid (which she wasn't, even though some may beg to differ) to have missed him. It was an odd sight, indeed, but the mare just stood watching him for a moment, her head cocked to a little to the left and an odd smile on her face.
"Excuse me, sir." Pheobe asked calmly, stepping towards the possibly insane stallion serenely and adressing him in musical tones. "But what are you doing, exactly?"
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Post by skibbereenfarms on Oct 22, 2011 13:01:14 GMT -5
At the sound of her voice, the rucus Musket was making immediately stopped. He had been facing the tree at the time, so now he stood with his head practically pushing up against it, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He hadn't even paid any attention to what she had asked, so he ended up trying to remember what she said. He couldn't do it. His anger had blocked everything else. Standing there just felt weird all of a sudden. The rage was just... gone. Now he felt completely empty, unsure of what he could even do. Well...he had to move on. Just face what was ahead of him. The stallion shook his head, and slowly he turned to where he had heard the voice. His eyelids felt droopy, so it appeared as though he were exhausted. Clearing his throat a bit, he spoke, though it sounded as though he were entirely unsure of what was going on. "Sorry..." He stopped, realizing how idiotic he'd sound asking her to repeat the question. It looked like he'd have to improvise.
Wait, he didn't have to explain himself to her! The hole was filling back up with anger. "I mean...what's it to you?" he snorted. "Why do you suddenly care about a stranger?" His voice sounded more strict than it had been before. He spun himself around entirely and faced the mare head-on, not having the obvious height difference bother him. He'd delt with bigger horses before. He scowled at the mare as if to say, 'how dare she try to talk to me!' Musket watched her for a brief moment, simply waiting for her to react. "Well? Are you going to leave me be or do I have to chase you myself?" he asked angrily.
ooc: Harsh. xD |
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Post by Padfoot on Oct 22, 2011 13:54:14 GMT -5
Pheobe
If the mare was at all suprised or disturbed by the stallion's reaction, she gave very little sign of it. Instead she only watched him with interest as he blew up in her face, making it very clear he wasn't getting to her. He had given himself away with his first "sorry". When he was done, she smiled at him again. "Well," She began in the same beautiful, contemplative voice, taking another calm step towards him, "I care what you're doing because you're destroying that beautiful little tree there, and I care about strangers because we all matter to our future." She obviously hadn't gotten that his questions were at least partly rhetorical, disscussing her reasoning behind approaching a possible homicidal manic as openly as if she were chatting with an old friend about the weather.
"And, as for me getting lost, I don't think so. I guess you can try to chase me, if you want, but I find it's far harder when the chased refuses to run." She finished with another smile, turning her head to the side again and waiting for his response to everything she had just said.
The funny thing was, the mare obviously wasn't trying to get to Musket; she wasn't smirking at him or regarding him cooly or trying to mess with his emotions by prancing around him. She was just stating the fact that she wasn't going to run through the forest for him. And that was the thing about Pheobe that made people look at her funny; she was so honest. Nothing was too taboo for her to dicuss in her same calm, casual voice.
ooc: Pheobe like the honey badger... SHE DON"T CARE! X'D
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Post by skibbereenfarms on Oct 29, 2011 13:35:25 GMT -5
Obviously, he couldn't have expected the mare to stick around like he did, and he automatically showed his shock and anger toward this fact once she back-sassed him. If she had been any other horse, he probably would have attacked right there and then. Maybe he was too frustrated with himself to go after her. There was one thing that stuck out in his mind, and he knew then and there that he'd use that to attack her, obviously not physically. He glared back at the tree he had been running himself into. The side of his body had been slightly sore in one spot - the one he had repeatedly jammed himself into - but it wasn't as painful as the other incidents he managed to get himself into. He kept his eyes on the tree, staring at it a bit envyingly. "You worry about myself bringing harm to the tree," he began. "Yet you fail to consider the harm I'm bringing to myself. Though I wouldn't expect anyone to care about someone like me, I would have assumed that my life was worth more than that of a freaking tree."
He snorted and kept his eyes on the tree, making sure to keep his eyes away from hers. "So either you leave or watch as your precious tree gets run to the ground," he added before lunging forward at the plant once again. He obviously didn't care that she was there anymore. His arrogance would force her to leave, if anything. If she tried to stop him, well, he could easily say that it was an 'accident' that he had attacked her. She would have gotten in his way anyway. Horses should know better than to get in Musket's way. [/size] |
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Post by Padfoot on Oct 29, 2011 14:41:39 GMT -5
Pheobe
It was becoming more and more clear as Musket continued to attack the sapling Pheobe had petitioned for that she was disturbed by the stallion's actions. Of course, she wasn't exactly a stranger to the kind of mental anguish that confronted her now--she had grown up with it, after all--but a stallion's anger was different from a mare's. It was more brash, violent and rebellious; something a little harder to control. But the mare knew she could handle practically anything, she reasoned, and
straightened up slightly. She was a sucker for that feeling of being needed, and she wanted to help this mystery stallion. Lacking a normal childhood, or any childhood, really, had left her with a foal's heart that hated the self-inflicted pain he carried with him. Whether it was Fate, Kismet, or some unknown deity that had brought them together, she wasn't leaving now. They had to have been brought together for some reason.
"What's your name?" Pheobe asked suddenly, almost blurting it, trying not to look bothered by his continual pawing of the tree. She had learned with her mother that to acknowledge the things that they did gave them the attention they wanted, and the power to mess with you again, and again. But the distraction a question offered might startle him enough to lay off the tree for a moment and listen, because Phebs was certainly going to have her two cents.
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