Close To The Tor, Pakarrin's Post

[Pakarrin]

:herd:
The herd were grazing contentedly on the edges of the tor, there was little grass to sustain a full herd, but Pakarrin had only a small mob, and the yearlings were grazing further down toward the Cascades. Pakarrin didn't mind his children wandering, for there were only three of them and they were fillies, so they could be taken by any stallion, no problem. But it wasn't the breeze that was botehrign the big dun overo, he liked the heights but this one was ominous. He'd only be staying in this land for a few weeks more, it being quite pretty here before the summer brumby runs. He'd never expereicned the men at close hands but two of his favourite bay mares had and warned him constantly if they stayed below the Ramsheads durign summer. Pakarrin's real place was the edges of Numermang and the Ravine further north, there were many itnerestign legends there and because of them he vacationed a lot. But here there were stories too, the death of the stallion Yarraman had meant that there were fewer stallions around the Cascades so Pakarrin was nervous to be seated around the big valley.

OOC: Ok its not very good but my brain's slowly turnign into mush!

[yiltu bundaleer]

:leopard:
The big, odd-looking spotted stallion sniffed the breeze with his nostrils wide to catch the intriguing scents that floated his way. He could smell another stallion, but more importanly, he could smell mares and fillies. The stallion he felt certain he could deal with, and the mares he would like to take for himself.
He snorted, a heavy, wet sound, and pawed at the earth impatiently, ears and tail flicking about in all directions.
Catching sight of a sandy-coloured shoulder past the blood-stained tor, Yiltu Bundaleer felt his own body tense and prepare itself, ready for the inevitable combat. His neck arched, his lip curled back and his hind legs lengthened their stride, powering forward with his hindquarters tucked lower than usual ready to take his weight when he reared. He held his knees a little higher than usual, trying to show off, though it was difficult for such an ungainly horse - and one so strangely coloured - to really display himself in a good light.
Jumping up onto the tor for a better view, Bundaleer's hooves tapped on the rock, no doubt alerting the other brumbies to his presence if they hadn't already smelt, seen or heard him, or one of his own herd, so the spotted stallion put in a burst of energy to propel him up the tor. He wanted an advantage and had only a little time before that other stallion could make it up here to meet him.
With a quick check to see if his mares were still in the trees along Dead Horse Ridge, and the daughters he jealously guarded, Bundaleer turned back to see where the sandy-coloured stallion was and gathered himself into a rear, pounding at the air with his forefeet and screaming a protest to the overo. He felt his back hooves slip a little on the dark brown crust of dried blood scribbled across the rock but paid no notice to it other than to shift his weight a little and snort angrily, tossing his mottled head and rolling his white-outlined eyes.

:appy1::appy2:
Down in the trees behind the stallion, one mare and her daughter looked at each other wryly, shaking their heads as if the spotted horse did this sort of thing often, and never with much result, but the others kept grazing, seemingly unconcerned as to what the outcome of all this would be so long as they could keep trying to fatten themselves up after a winter of soggy grass and seed pods.

[Pakarrin]

:bay: :bayred: :blacksocks: :chestnut: :grey:

The breeze drifted back to Pakarrin’s nose and it wrinkled and his ears slid to the back of his head. An irritated snort crossed his nostrils and one of his bays raised her head and sniffed too. The two could smell the odorous pong of a stallion near by and Pakarrin felt angry. He always did in spring, it was just the way of most stallions, and he turned to the bay and nuzzled her withers softly then nipped at her rump. The bay rounded up the small mob of five mares and four gangly little foals into a neat little crèche then she began to nicker and nip at her bay friend and her odd dun colt foal with his banded legs and white stocking to carry on down toward the ridge where the fillies were. Pakarrin watched and gave nicker to the heard to remain close as he watched them head down. His daughters had caught the scent and the two bays and one dun quickly headed onto the slope of a ridge where they mixed with the herd and cantered steadily out of the firing line of the tor.

:dunsocks:

Pakarrin had a feeling he’d be met on the top of the tor or on one of its shelves so he began to ascend and caught sight of the upstart, some odd looking and very oddly built stallion. He paused as he climbed higher and stared at the horse, a small amount of humour shinning in his eyes and the wind knocked his mane onto the left and tugged at his furry fetlocks! Pakarrin ignored the scream of protest until he reached the top and then he gave out a mocking tone of his own, though a show was not included.

(OOC: Just a note, the horses shown on the top of the psot are the colours of his mares, so there's a bay, a red bay, a black with socks, a chestnut, and a grey for anyone willing to play them, I don't mind!!)

This post has been edited by Pakarrin on March 03, 2006 04:13 am

[yiltu bundaleer]

:leopard:
Yiltu Bundaleer was enraged by the fact that the overo did not seem to take him seriously, and pawed at the air with a forehoof, muttering in a low, angry snort-whicker about manners (not that he had any himself). He stamped on the rock, dislodging a few small grains of stone and sending them scuttling down toward the earth, white tail switching in annoyance.
Turning to face the overo as he climbed the tor, Yiltu tried to dart forward to crash his hooves into the other stallion before he could reach the top, but his heavy, lumbering body was not as nimble as that of the sandy-coloured pinto and he was too late, his hooves skidding a little as he attempted to lurch around.
Bundaleer roared furiously, expending more breath and energy than was necessary or indeed wise, but he thought he could still easily defeat this painted stallion, and had breath to spare.



ooc: hehe, good to see you again! i felt like getting this guy beaten up a little, lol :twitch:

[Pakarrin]

:dunsocks:

Pakarrin climbed the tor and nimbly skipped to the side, keeping one hoof firmly placed in a worn in grove on the rock surface so he had some balance. The dun overo snorted gently as the big blunderer almost rocked off the side. Pakarrin was used to rough terrain and he loved the heights, a stallion that had lived eight years, passing from tor to ravine to valley, knew the perils of rearing on the smoothed or jagged rocks. Pakarrin skipped nimbly to the side and lunged at the stallion aiming to give him a hard nip on the rump and make him blunder. If he missed he could do a sort of hopping motion on his hind legs and push forward in a punch with his forelegs, but he knew to keep his eyes on where the edge was.

OOC: Yeah it’s great to hear from you, I’m currently ill with a chest infection that’s getting quite bad. Iona says hello because she’s staring over my shoulders! Hopefully, if I get better, I’m going to hound and Terrier day at Crufts. Got any dog breeds you want to see pics of? Anyway I have to get off now because it’s almost nine, what did you think of Aurelia’s post?

[yiltu bundaleer]

:leopard:
Bundaleer snorted, eyes rolling, as the overo came at him, and did the sort of thing that it is most definitely not good to do when one is perched high above the ground on rather uncertain footing - he stepped backwards.
As his foot came down, it came down on air, and kept going down. His other hind leg splayed upwards, his hock catching on the rock, and he scrabbled to bring himself back onto the tor but with one hind leg shoved forward on an unnatural angle and the other dangling out into space with no chance of a toe-grip, he was having a fair amount of difficulty. Not to mention the mind-numbing pain coming from the grinding of his groin against the stone. His front hooves grabbed at the rock but could not get a firm hold, and he could feel himself slipping, his left hock taking most of the damage as it dragged downwards across the rock. But he hated to think what would happen to his right hind leg if he fell on it, and tried again to get it back under him. But there was nothing to do, he was going to slide downwards, and he was apparently going to have no choice but to do so whilst doing a very painful version of the splits.
Screaming with seething rage and agony, Bundaleer slowly, slowly, slid down the rock, glaring up over the edge at the overo and vowing that if he survived this fall he was going to hurt that horse, and badly. No-one should be able to do this to him, Yiltu Bundaleer!
As he heard a snort from behind him, he was tempted to glance over at his mares, but resisted the urge in case it caused him to fall faster. But he was sure someone had been laughing at him.



ooc: aww! T_T i hope you're okay soon, lung infections are awful! and lol, hi Iona! :D Anyway, i better keep this short on here. i really hope you get to go to Hound and Terrier Day - if you see any Sarloos Wolfhounds, i'd love to see some pics! i'm going to reply to Aurelia's post soon, just wanted to play with this guy a bit first, hehe. Get better soon!!

[Brolga]

Pakarrin would have gone and bowled him right over just with charging head on, he'd done it before to a black colt and spooked the horse right off a ledge into a creek, the colt had been lucky then. But Pakarrin simply watched, trying not to squeal with humour at the sight of the big chunky horse sliding down. But then he wondered whether he was playing fair and whether he should not give the stallion a little boost by pulling at his withers? Pakarrin snorted softly and paced slowly to a little series of ledges almost like ladders that headed down the tor. He spotted the stallion's gaze and guessed there were some mares so he began to head slowly downwards. As he passed near the big oaf he nipped at him tauntingly and snorted, doing a quick rear and landing neatly on a lower ledge. Then Pakarrin headed slowly down toward the copse on the ridge, his tail raised and his neck arched. But he didn't go right down, he stopped near the middle of the tor and waited for the blundering nit to come skidding past so he could give him either a kick or just squeal and nip at him. What a foolish colt!

OOC: Unfortunately the Kennel Club doesn't recognise that breed and they're not allowed in this country without all the proper information because apparently they are classed as "Wolf-hybrids" shows you how stupid some people are. I’m not to keen of the KC myself but they serve a purpose. Anyway are there any sight hounds perhaps you like? A nice Saluki or a Greyhound? Maybe a Scent hound like a Segugio Italiano or Beagle (I don't like Beagles too much?)! At my Work Experience we've got two breeding Borzoi, but the girl, Lorna, doesn't like our boy Prince unless he's been sprayed with smelly flower stuff, which Prince objects to!
Oh forgot to say i'm posting thsi quickly because its very early and I've nto got enough time to log in and out, plus I wrote it the other day! Sorry! :)

This post has been edited by Brolga on March 03, 2006 05:14 pm

[laliclesuk]

Mirri stood nearby to the colts and fillies, hidden in the shrub, she had a chestnut filly not so long ago, when she still belonged to Yarraman. She was waiting to see her before she had the Brolga's foal. Mirri missed Yarraman, Bel Bel was still with her and because of Bel Bel's Foals Mirri remembered hers and of course, their sire. Mirri was nervous, even though the Brolga was in his own country high above where the men should be at this time of year, Mirri still was worried the Brolga was going to head further down before the winter, but Mirri wanted to warn her filly of the dangers before she left. after all Mirri knew the winter could kill and her filly was only 2 years old and on her own for the first time, and of course, the men were dangerous also.....

:bay:

[laliclesuk]

Mirri realised her filly may not nessessarily be nearby, that she may of followed the other youngsters. So she turned away. she would run into her filly soon ,if she had joined a herd, then she was bound to go south sooner or later and bump into her. The brolga was nearby, maybe not, close enough to see each other but close enough to hear, Mirri had wandered of to have her foal, not too far to be in danger but far enough to feel comfortable. also Mirri was sure Bel Bel had gone away to have her latest foal, she also knew that Bel Bel would return the same time she would, with a a very leggy foal at foot....provivded everything went well....after all they were both very old.



:bay:

[Thowra]

OOC: hold it! sorry, mares shouldn't be posting on this forum, unless they are in a herd brought by a stallion fighting here. Mirri is in the Brolga's herd, so should be posted for on that forum, or one of the other areas if she is off somewhere to have a foal - although i don't think the Brolga would let his mares stray as far or as long as Yarraman did.
in case you can't find the Brolga's land, it's in the cascades, as a subforum. ^_^ sorry, this is just a fighting area for stallions.

[Thowra]

OOC: btw - let me know where you want to move to on the ooc forum and i'll move your posts there so you don't have to write them out again, if you want. ^_^

[laliclesuk]

yeah i thought he was around here for some reason. maybe it was because the last post was by Brolga. well we can move them over then. my minds going am sure of it may as well move to the cascades if thats where the herd is. i dont think mirri will have her foal just yet
:bay: