Surrender, Or Else (OPEN - Stallion?)

we've lost it all & i am just a silhouette, a lifeless face you'll soon forget The desert was like a hot dinner plate, and Nirvana was the charred meat. Her skin hung loose from her bones, inky black pelt missing chunks of hair like a puzzle missing its pieces. From a distance, she was nothing more than a dark mass stumbling across the vibrant, orange horizon. Neither dead nor alive. The sun began to settle, murky yellow light shinning down upon her back like a command, "'Surrender to the earth, or else," it told her. Nirvana's head swayed in defiance and she dropped her neck. The locks of her mane swept the ground like bristles on an old broom. As the last of the warmth from the sun was sucked away by the night, she realized she had missed her last chance to die comfortably. Her brow furrowed when the icy air hit her bare patches of skin. Suddenly, Nirvana's ears twisted left. The throaty howls of coyotes made her head ring. They sounded desperate, longing, and their pain for hunger was almost so intense that she forgot about her own pain. Her muscles were sore and tight, her hooves degraded to the point that she now limped, and above all - a poison was attacking her heart. Sadness.  It wasn't long before her knees buckled and met the hard ground with a thump. She curled into a ball, resting her nose in her bony chest. What would her sire say, if he could see her now? She clenched her pearly whites together and tossed her nose to the sky, staring into the starry blackness. At some point in time, she lost all will to hold up her once flawless crown and it smacked the floor she lay on. All went black. Its been a while since i rped, hope you enjoy!

❤

The chill of the desert wind bit at his grullo coat, his black tresses winding in thick waves down the muscles of his neck. The land around him was cracked and barren, and the air rang with the singing of coyotes and the whisper of a chilling breeze. In the distance, he could see the black silhouettes shuffling about in the dim-lighted area...they seemed to be after something. He stopped his paces and stared at the figures, shrill cries of excitement coming from them as they made erratic movements. His brow furrowed in curiosity as he paid attention to his surroundings. It was not long until he caught a very familiar metallic scent mixed with a musky sweat, distress thick in the air. So that was what the carnivores were drawn to: death, those scavenging beasts. Show them blood or a carcass and they lose all sense of self-control. He snorted in distaste. Not that he had qualms with violence; on the contrary, he applauded it. He was a dark stallion himself, after all, and had caused his fair share of sorrow and fear...but it was organized. He had sense at all times, and there was nothing that could throw him into chaos.

He chose to follow the scent, and came upon a distant figure laying in the ground. He snorted as the scent intensified and filled his nose; that was definitely the source. As he approached, he heard snarls and the gnashing of teeth as a coyote approached him. Defending its dinner, no doubt. He halted his steps, and lowered his head to peer into the stare of the canine. Their eyes met, and the coyote lunged. As the dog's teeth neared his head, he jerked it up smoothly, a heavy hoof simultaneously striking out at the head of the coyote that had taken the bait of his face. A crack, a sharp cry, and there was silence. Needless to say, they did not bother him further. He did not so much as bat an eye, unceremoniously stepping over the body to continue towards the larger figure lying in the dry dirt.

He neared, and his eyes raked calmly over the mare that laid unconscious on the desert floor. Her eyes were closed, her forelock splayed across her face. He took in her tattered body, the blood leaking onto the floor. Shere Khan hummed deeply in thought...leave her here, would be the obvious first conclusion. What use had he for an injured female? She could offer no purpose, she could be no soldier, nor could she ever be any sort of prospect for a mother. In her current position, she didn't even look fit to occupy a place in a herd. He had almost resolved to leave her to die when something struck the back of his mind...what was she before this apparent tragedy that had befallen her? There were other herds here, after all, that would be happy to welcome a mare in distress...perhaps he could have use of her. The corners of his lips curled upwards slightly into a sinister smirk.

He circled around to the front of the mare, acquiring a better look into her face. Her features, although caught in the involuntary relaxation of unconsciousness, still held a sort of pained agony. She must have traveled far in these conditions, this one. The wounds would become infected in little time if not attended to. He shook his head from side to side, "Tsk tsk tsk tsk," he clicked with his tongue. "What a waste this is." He supposed he should attempt to wake her, lowering his maw to her own. He crafted his features from his usual chilling calmness to an expression full of concern. He pushed at the length of her face."Wake up, my dear. You are worried for," he said with a saccharine voice, his tones soft and lilting with his smooth, British-like accent. If she did not awaken, he would leave her to die after all. If she was destined for the jaws of death, she could serve him no purpose, anyways.

we've lost it all & i am just a silhouette, a lifeless face you'll soon forget Nirvana's dry, sunken eyes peeled open to the size of needle thin cracks at the sound of someone's smooth vocals in her ear. She hadn't the strength to reply to the stranger's demands. The world was a blur, her mind far from the desert's cold realm. She was back home, back in Tainted Paradise. Smells of wet oak and sage hung in the air. Knee high grass kissed her hocks. Her black coat was glossy once again. It all seemed so real. She wanted to stay there forever, until a new musky aroma began to suffocate her nares. The mare's heart skipped a beat and those sweet baby blues that were hidden beneath her forelock fluttered into focus. Dark legs strutted around her. The smooth vocals returned to her ear, their strange accent obscuring her thoughts. She could feel his piercing gaze skim over her gaunt mass. His velvet muzzle met hers, and for a second, heat swelled in Nirvana's heart. However, she would not be so easily fooled by a tender touch and soft voice. The stallion was inspecting her like a prize, she could tell. Her sides heaved in a pathetic, snorting sigh. Figures, she thought, that I shall be raped to death. Some sort of sick justice the universe has sent me to pay for the crimes of my past.  "And...who is it that's worried for me?" She gasped in a tone with more sarcasm than wonder. Her neck curled and with a grunt her crown lifted from its pitiful resting spot to see the stallion in full view. A strikingly full mane and tail, a sleek grullo body, and pools of ice blue on each side of his finely carved head. Who is this stallion, what does he want from me? She pondered the consequences of responding to him. Either way, she was most likely to die. But, there was a twinge in her gut that objected. Her sire's voice rang in her ears, Get up. Scruffy pillars flung themselves out in front of her chest and she pulled her neck toward the sky, ears flat against her head like a snake. Now in a sitting position she looked away from the stud's powerful gaze, partly ashamed of her own pathetic form. This was never the mare she thought she would be. Not much of a leader now, but she had ran for so far and so long that she had lost herself. "I should have went up in flames with my herd. Yet here I am." Her voice was flat and whispered. No creature should ever have to feel the pain she felt, how could it compare? How could anyone understand what she lost? Deep down, she worried if she would ever be the same poised, stunning horse she use to be.  Under the bright light of a pristine moon, Nirvana peddled her hind legs until they caught the chalky ground enough for her to stand up. Her limbs were spread apart like a newborn foal's and her head hung low. The silent company of a stallion was soothing to her. She daringly extended her withered boa and pressed her forehead against his shoulder - both for support, and just to feel another living thing again. Her soul began to awaken, "If only you'd have come sooner, I could put up a fair fight. Do whatever it is you want to do, then leave me to die in peace if you can manage." Hollow tones were followed by Nirvana nobly arching her neck and stomping her ashen front hoof, as if she were about to go into battle. Her sire always told her to be proud of who she was. Might as well take what was coming with her head held high, as if it were her choice.  Words: 630-ish.

❤