O Brother, Where Art Thou

[MocHa]

Two brothers stand on a lonely, low-lying hill grazing on the soggy marsh grasses. Similar in height and age and partially in color, but those are their only similarities. The larger one stands higher atop the hill, the dominant one. He is bulky and large with a sleek blonde mane and tail. His light red coat is covered in scars of varying degrees of size and depth. He would be handsome, with a strong jaw and Roman curve to his nose, if not for the large scar down one side of his face and the hollow space where an eye should be. The scarred stallion is Hugo.

Lower on the hill is his subordinate brother. Mostly white with splashes of bright red across his slightly leaner body, the most prominent splashes over both of his eyes and tracing down his spine. His mane and tail hide streaks of blonde among the white. This hair adds a sense of comedy and impish nature in its extremely curly and thick locks. His eyes are hidden beneath the forelock, but there is a near constant smile upon lips. He is easily read by every horse. The jovial stallion is Ivan.

Our mothers named us incorrectly, I think. Horses usually assume me to be Hugo and my brother to be Ivan, but I think it is because our mothers had other expectations for the two of us. I could not be mad at them for it. Hugo was expected to be the easy-going colt where I was supposed to take charge, but once they realized the mix-up, couldn't they have switched our names? I am sure we were still young enough not to notice. C'est la vie is the saying, is it not? I have grown into my name, just as Hugo has and there is no changing after seven years.

The painted stallion pauses in his grazing to look at his brother. A frown appears on his mouth, but the expression on the rest of his face is hidden by his heavy forelock. The scarred stallion feels the eyes upon him and pins his ears, baring his teeth, and turns away with a flick of his tail to continue grazing. Ivan snorts, his frown deepening before he looks away.

Hugo does not like eyes to be on him anymore. He never told me the story of his lost eye, even though we were in the same herd and I was with him just before the injuries occurred. All I know about that day is that he went off completely whole and with only a few scars, a family, a herd, and many foals and came back bloody and beaten without an eye, no herd, and no family aside from me. He said nothing but that we were going home. Mentioned nothing of my mare and foal. All I knew of the event was the smell of blood and fear that clung to him afterward. He answered none of my questions. He only withdrew himself from me. The singular thing that I am sure of is that our mares and foals will never be seen again. Hugo carries a heavy story in his scars and in his missing eye, but I doubt he will ever share that burden with me.

Ivan breathes a sigh, dropping his head. He glances once at Hugo's scarred flanks, eyes travelling up his body to the hollowed cavern. The scar looked like it was caused by horse's teeth, wide black scars one over the socket and one under. He returns to grazing.

What can be done to help him?

[Mocha's Note:] I will not be writing with them in this way all of the time. This is just kind of a special way for me to introduce Hugo, Ivan, their relationship, and pieces of their history in a way that's more fun to read. From here on out (except maybe in other opening posts that include the two of them together) it will be more "normal."

[lamb ♥]

a l b a , She had not been banished, no – but she did not expect to return to the place where she had been born, beneath the grandfatherly trees with canopies made of smoke, along the frosted shores of Daoud. Not so quickly, at least, not after only two weeks beyond the borders of the Wood. ('I am going to see the world,' she had said to her mother and father, watching their eyes for flickers of discontent and their mouths for signs of protest. 'And when I come home, I will tell you stories of it.') Time had crawled with her, each step after wondering step, as curious as she had been of every flower, every face that she passed down fading country roads; it rested on her shoulder while she waited for the rain to stop, standing beneath the boughs of a sharp-scented fir; it slept beside her in the underbrush as the moon dipped into its sanctuary in the west; and now it walked hesitantly beside her as she picked her way through the tall, salted marsh-grass, her eyes wide and her mouth bowed in a subtle frown. Slow, she thought almost resentfully, her gaze wandering from one familiar feature to another, as slow as sap running through the trees, as slow as resin solidifying and clotting on grooved trunks; she had come back at last, and it felt as if she had never left at all.

One sigh slipped from her mouth in a plume of transparent, short-lived white, dissolving when she pressed onwards, ankles sodden and cold as morning broke behind her. Alba could already hear the birds stirring in the trees ahead, a soft and tinkling noise that grew louder with every second that passed, every degree the sun rose in the rose-tinted east. She smiled, naturally. There were things that never changed, and she supposed that that was one of them – she had always loved morning in the Great Woods, birds singing, spindle-legged deer emerging from the fog with their deep, dark brown eyes. As much as she was disappointed in having come back so quickly, she was glad to hear it; one thing she had learned in her brief encounter with the world was that it was strangely and inexplicably quiet, every day a near-silent journey save for words traded with strangers, directions and tired smiles. Perhaps she simply wasn't used to it. Perhaps the Wood, in retrospect, was uncharacteristically loud. Perhaps, perhaps, she mused silently, and then, scarcely distinguishable from the ambient noise: “Oh!” A streak of soprano, a flash of whimsical, low-flying lightning, nearly lost in the rustle of the grass, the sound of her feet lifting and settling into the bog and the mud.

Without meaning to, she had come upon them, a pair of stallions grazing wordlessly in a dip in the landscape. Dreamy fool that she was, she had not seen them on her way down, had merely intended to cut straight through their company without a thought; she supposed she should apologize, but she could muster nothing beyond two slow and thoughtful blinks, her mouth open just so, long black lashes fluttering as she glanced from one to the other. “Oh,” she said again, a single drawn-out note, her eyes tracing the extent of a scar shamelessly before finally tipping her head in greeting. “Pardon me. It seems I was distracted.” Only her eyes would have betrayed the nonstandard distress that fluttered in her chest, and out of consequence, Alba found herself staring at the ground for some time before raising her head. What to do? What to say, how to excuse herself?


sorry for the weird post. I: still kind of getting used to her.

[MocHa]

Being wholly blind on one side has caused Hugo to become aggressive when spooked. Unlike his brother who errs on the side of "flight," Hugo is the fighter. Though Ivan did not go running, his tense body and sudden shift to one side alerted Hugo, who ran blindly down the hill with a raging bellow. He turned his head to the side as he ran, a habit he had formed over the years in order to see the land in front of him, and with his one eye he spotted the other horse.

As soon as Ivan collected his thoughts and looked around him, he was able to see his brother charge past toward the (so far) unseen adversary.Through his forelock, he saw the loudly marked horse and heard her squeak in surprise, possibly at finding two large stallions grazing solo in a semi-enclosed area. Or perhaps it was his brother's rather garrish general appearance. Ivan did not know, but he figured it would be better for him to diffuse the situation before Hugo had the chance to vent his spleen at the innocent creature.

Hugo pulled up just a mere couple of lengths away from the mare, his hooves dragging along the grass. He lifted the one foreleg that held the kneespot, as opposed to the other legs that carried stockings, in the air and lifted his heavy head high. He snorted harshly and stared down at her with his single eye with a heavy, fierce gaze. "It is unwise to blunder so badly that you trip into a knoll where two stallions stand." He growled down at her.

He was about to continue on when a heavy shove from his brother threw him off balance. The sudden movement caused the words to catch and instead of speech, only a garbled grunt-yelp came out. Ivan trotted past, but was not agile enough to avoid Hugo's teeth and received a harsh pinch upon his hindquarters. Just a flick of his thick, wavy, flaxen-and-white tail showed his discomfort, but he continued closing the distance between himself and the mare, coming to a stop, nearly center between her and his brother. "Please excuse my brother, miss. He doesn't know how to react properly. He never has. It's always 'charge in, insult everyone, and maybe ask questions later." He smiled in what he thought was a warm manner. "I am Ivan and that is Hugo. Don't let our names fool you. He is that serious in spite of his jovial-sounding name." Ivan tilted his head toward Hugo, who snorted in response.

[lamb ♥]

a l b a , A hundred-thousand regrets coursed through her mind as the largest of the two stallions tore away, a harsh sound grating from his throat and stopping her delicate ears; it completely drowned the suddenly feeble sound of her pulse fluttering wildly like a dove in her chest, and for a moment Alba was quite sure that it had gone limp, had gone silent, and that she had died. But the feeling of fear that bloomed in her stomach when that shadow fell across her face, when the scent of his grass-fed breath threatened to choke her, reminded her that it was not so. 'It is unwise to blunder so badly that you trip into a knoll where two stallions stand,' he said, and her ears flattened immediately into her dark curls, hazel eyes both daunted and indignant. As if she had known! As if she had not apologized at all! “Forgive me my ignorance,” she said as quietly and as levelly as she could muster, shrinking back onto her thin, trembling legs. “I'll be sure to be more careful.” More careful, or more omniscient? Reserved and compliant as she was, Alba at least knew to fend for herself when necessary. If she had not been thoroughly afraid for her life, she would have choked it out more than willingly, dry tone and all. 'Please excuse my brother, miss. He doesn't know how to react properly.' For several long moments she managed to hold his stark, angry gaze (she tried not to focus on the scars that marred his face, the hollow socket that stared at her as darkly as the other; she tried not to provoke him with even a misplaced breath, a misread shiver) before the figure of the other stallion distracted her readily; brothers they were, and, she noted with a flustered sideways glance, as different as night and day. 'I am Ivan,' he said kindly, dismissively, 'And that is Hugo.' She blinked in response, smiling faintly and hesitantly at this Ivan's joke, still leery of that Hugo, sullen and heavy in the background. She could not stop herself from watching him, as leery as a mouse to a cat. “Alba,” however, came her voice eventually, much stronger than it had been before, and she settled her attentions on Ivan, the more personable of the two siblings. “My apologies, again,” she murmurred, taking comfort in the way that, if she looked at him a certain way, he obscured Hugo from view. “It wasn't my intention to be rude, or to startle anyone.”

[MocHa]

As the mare apologized, Hugo snorted caustically and pinned his ears with a shake of his blonde mane. He took her stare as a challenge. It burned his scarred face to be looked at as she was. He took it as disbelief. Disbelief that a hideous creature such as himself should be seen in the daylight by those that physically seemed unflawed, aside from a bit of clumsiness. He lifted his head and curled his lip in a contemptible way. He did not leave, though. He stood quite still, staring back at the mare silently. Occasionally he turned his head, just to show off the empty socket. If she wanted to stare, he would let her. However, he also glared at his furry brother for conversing with the mare that had just startled the two of them only minutes ago. Hugo did not need Ivan fawning over a new mare. He wanted her gone and now wanted to move on from this place, in case other horses would find this spot.

Contrasting his brother, Ivan continued with his warm greeting, completelly unaware of Hugo's sudden need to move. He shook his head rapidly as she apologized to Hugo first and then introduced herself. Of course he understood his brother's initial reaction, but he did not know the deeper meaning beneath Hugo's reaction. To Ivan, Hugo was feeling betrayed because he had, not only, not allowed Hugo to continue his rant, but also had not ended the exchange with a quick apology for Hugo's behavior and left with his brother as they usually did when the scarred stallion pissed both himself and other horses off. "Pay no attention to that cantankerous old horse, Miss Alba." He smiled and tossed his head in the direction of Hugo. and it grew as he heard Hugo snort loudly. He shook his head to one side in order to better his eyesight and also allow her to see his face better. His thick forelock, while an endearing feature, could become annoying when he was trying to conversate and apologize to another horse, especially a lady-mare. "It's hard, even for me sometimes, to get along with him when he decides to vent his guts upon someone. I hope he didn't cause any permanent damage to you."

Hugo knew where Ivan was going and would not let it continue. He stepped up closer to the pair, stopping so he just behind Ivan. He narrowed his single eye while pinning his ears. Hugo was not ready to add another horse into their party. He did not want the responsibility of an unrelated creature to watch out for. It would put him in control (as he could not allow Ivan to become the leader. He would ruin everything) of more than one other life too soon. This was not okay. They needed to leave.

[Mocha's Note:] I honestly do not have any idea as to what happened in this post. I did not want Hugo to fade into the background and just snort or stamp a hoof periodically when Ivan made a comment and this happened. I am starting to feel worse for Hugo :U

I fixed the post in order to fit in my new concept of Hugo. I hope this is more interesting and/or easier to reply to.

[lamb ♥]

a l b a , Whatever it was she had done to Hugo – and truly done, as there was hardly any reason to believe that accidentally intruding was her greatest grievance – Alba apologized profusely for it. Of course, she did not say so aloud. Alba was not at all comfortable with the hostile way he looked at her, the grudging expression that settled onto his face as easily as a smile did on hers, and so she held her tongue religiously. And she could not help but wonder, was it her cool and defiant reply? Was it her inability to tear her gaze away from his face, empty socket and all? But she remembered more of his face than she did of his scars, or the dark pit where his other angry, rolling eye should have been, she thought; she noticed them as any young person unversed in suffering would, but did not hold him in contempt for them, did not think for even a moment to comment on them. She was a believer in the values of imperfections, and it was for this reason that, afraid as she was for her life and her sanity, she found herself occasionally glancing back to his face, sitting on the edge of that empty socket and wondering what it was that went on in the blackness. Absent-minded she may have been, and clumsy he may have branded her, but Alba was no uncultured fool. She was polite, respectful – she wouldn't have intentionally insulted him for the world, and yet there they were, standing toe to toe as if on opposing sides of a war. “It's … it's alright. I should have been more careful.” He certainly played the part of a soldier well, she thought, watching him from her peripheral vision. “I really wasn't expecting anyone so early in the morning.” Little about his open distaste for her presence was lost on her; he glared over his brother's shoulder; he seemed fidgety, like a bird caught in the center of one of the Wood's wide glades. Perhaps he hated her? Oh, she would never understand! “Would you like me to leave? I don't mean to be a bother,” she murmured, looking purposely into the stallion's remaining eye, a calm, nearly unfeeling tinge to her gaze. “I was actually on my way home to begin with.” In the distance the trees called to her, the birds spinning songs on their looms to net her back into the safety of her woodland cradle. She could almost hear her father, naturally quiet and softspoken, wishing that she would not leave when she was so young, and for a moment she dared to agree with him; if the world was as unwelcoming as this Hugo was, then she was not sure if she wanted to travel it after all.


aghhh massive delay, sorry. )x

[MocHa]

Hugo began to turn in order to walk away when the mare began saying that she needed to move on also. He took it as his cue to also try and herd Ivan away from the mare that could be just another snake in the grass. One who feigned innocence and penitence in order to prey on a stallion like Ivan, that thought a beautiful mare could do no wrong. The roan stallion knew better. He'd met enough of them in his days and he'd learned his lesson. Ivan, however, had not had the chance to see life was like this. Hugo always made sure to protect him from these sorts. He paused to look at Ivan in order to catch his eye and give him the cue that it was time to go. The spotted stallion locked eyes with his brother, but concern furrowed his brow and he turned to look back at the mare. Hugo snorted and pinned his ears. He knew exactly what was going on in Ivan's head.

"You don't need to leave just because Hugo's a grump." Ivan took another step toward Alba, still trying to diffuse the situation and keep her in the glade for just a little bit longer. He had gone so long without the company of another horse aside from his brother (and anyone could see how that company could wear thin quickly), he was nearly desperate to keep her around. Just for a little longer before Hugo either chased her off or dragged him away. His ears thrust forward and brown eyes asking from beneath his forelock, still trying to keep the desperation out of his voice and act coy. "Perhaps you could come with us for a short distance. Or we could walk you back to wherever it is that you're from? Who could turn down a little extra protection from two large stallions. Just one look at Hugo's sour expression right now is enough to chase any predator off with their tail between their legs?

[/u]"

Hugo could not believe what he was hearing from his brother. He understood Ivan's need for companionship right now, but did Ivan not know what trouble this would be getting them into? The scarred stallion snorted and finally broke his silence, hissing at Ivan. "We have more important things to do than play bodyguard for a mare that we just met. As far as I'm concerned, if she were to get eaten then it would be just as well for the rest of us that we didn't have a ditz like her muddying up the gene pool." He flicked his singular stare at her for just a moment before pulling his head away from Ivan's, but his supposedly convincing speech would not deter the spotted stallion from his social needs.

"You always say we have more important things to do, but we never do, except wandering around and grazing and you chasing off every horse that annoys you. Which is pretty much everyone to date. We're going to help her. Maybe she'll even teach you a few new words. Like 'I'm sorry.'"

[Mocha's Note:] I think that I win in the game of delays. I am so sorry, Lamb. [/size][/blockquote][/center]

[lamb ♥]

a l b a , For a moment she dared to wonder what had traumatized that man so, what had clawed out his eye and ravaged his body until all that was left was a shell, housing an angry and turbulent soul. He was not in the least bit pleasant. He seemed to show hardly any remorse for what she took as excessive persecution for what was clearly an accident. And he was stirring in her the most black and angry feelings that she had had in a very long time, and Alba did not like it one bit – she chewed on her lip and contented herself with letting her ears lay back against her head as she turned squarely away from him, deigning not to look, or even listen. Ivan, she thought with the smallest strain of relief, would be more than suitable company until she could bear it no longer. “Oh no,” she said to him, smiling faintly and shaking her head once or twice. “That won't be necessary. It's only a little ways off, and I would hate to be more of a bother than I already have.” Truth be told, that time was likely not very far off. There was something unkind festering in her gut, and she was sure that at any moment it would burst and that would be the end of any friendly relations that may have developed; Alba was a neat and fair child indeed, taking much after her father in temperament, but like her mother, she knew better than to be pushed around for no reason other than, 'I don't like you'. She had just turned to leave, in fact, when it came storming into her face with ugly, hurtful words that she was entirely sure she did not deserve.

“Excuse me?”

Very hushed indeed, the two words that trembled on the edge of her teeth and burned in the still air. Her ears had flicked to attention and her petite nostrils flared, her eyes struggling between widening, narrowing – she could not believe what she had heard, almost refused to due to her awful, overly-trusting nature. But as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew what she had heard. “Excuse me?” she repeated, daring to take a step towards Hugo, and then another, and another, shouldering past Ivan blindly in her disbelief. “And before you make some quip about how I'm deaf as well, you ought to listen to yourself, the pot calling the kettle black, you – you – ” How she trembled, the little bird, her golden eyes almost hawk-like in their pain, in their absolute outrage. “I pity the God that chose to save a bitter fool like you.” Great, terrible, relentless, and almost too much for her small frame to manage. “I'm truly sorry, Ivan, but I really must be going. Good day.” She could scarcely force the words past her lips before she turned on her slender white heels and walked gracefully away, nothing to be heard but the slosh of the water as it caved beneath her hooves.


you're fine, you're fine! ♥ feel free to have someone run after her, i just couldn't think of anything else she'd do. I:

[MocHa]

"And good riddance to her." Hugo stated with a snort and swish of his tail. His single eye glared at her disappearing form as he also turned away to leave the glade. Now that it had been disrupted by the likes of her, the whole peace of the area was lost and he no longer desired to be there. Hugo would take Ivan on a trip in order to take his mind off of this mare. He would teach his brother to enjoy solitude as much as he did.

Ivan, on the other hoof, watched the mare disappear with a sense of regret. He'd gone so long without interactions from an outside source and then his brother feels the need to destroy any friendship that may come from it. At his brother's final snarky comment, the painted stallion pinned his ears and glared, catching Hugo's eye for just a second before the scarred stallion turned. "There will be others, Ivan. You don't need to lower yourself to a flighty, silly-hearted mare."

"You don't know what I need, Hugo." He snapped, turning about and moving instantly into a trot, being sure to throw his frame against his brother's side in a fit of anger and then moving into a canter and finally disappearing into the brush.