Welcome to Gaia! ::

The plains were drenched in the eerie light of a rising new moon and a setting sun intertwining. A lonely white figure, groaning and mumbling, stumbled across the flat lands. Creatures scurried from his path as grass crunched beneath his feet, his words driving them away. In the white horse's mind, he had every reason to be the way he was. The world was obviously against him now. First, his mate had been stolen away from him, and then Knave - his most beautiful child - had gone and mated himself to a WIND of all things. His lineage was soiled now, forever stained by filthy feathers. The blasted mare was a wily one too, not willing to back down and simply give his son up. What had happened to his vocal prowess? Was he losing his control - his grip - on the female kind? So many had come to resist him, not take hold of his beauty and bask in it. It angered him greatly.

And the thought of his beauty took him to a tangent of how he looked. He was growing older, he could tell. His pure white coat was gaining flecks of silver, and his once voluminous mane and tail were starting to become limp. His inner beauty was crushed by the stress of life, and his outer beauty was fading, like his mind.

Luckily, he saw no one around, and could lash out at whatever annoyed him. When in public, he tried to retain a composed mind. He would soon lose his grip on that, he could feel it in his bones. He would one day lose his beauty, the thing he treasured most. But today was not that day, today he would make something else beautiful, to carry on his legacy. Or, that was the plan.

Even in the fading light, Ritalin could make out the flaming red mane that had appeared far away from him. Oddly enough, he found the color attractive. He could also tell its coat color was a pale tan, another feature his breaking mind found attractive. He saw that the horse also wore extravagant golden jewelry and robes. This horse met all of Ritalin's beauty criteria. They would make a perfect addition to his collection of charmed horses. With a wicked smile, he began a stampeding gallop toward the horse.

As he approached, he noticed more about the horse. It was a female, and she was looking at him. Was she wary of him? if she knew who he was, it would be better for her to be wary. Then, something about her finally smacked him in the face. She was one of the accursed Angeni. With even more wings than Winds, they were the most filthy of all Soquili. But this one was so beautiful. How could it be possible that a being of beauty would be cursed with filthy feathers? His mind tried to add the two things together, but failed. The last few strands keeping him sane, already strained, snapped at that point. Beautiful yet filthy, ugly but pure. Why would the world allow such a thing to happen? If only she didn't have those wings...

"I'll fix her." He laughed a high pitched cackle, eyes focused on the Angeni in front of him. "I'll rip those accursed feathers right off of her, and the she'll be truly beautiful. Then she'll be worthy of my collection. She will be mine." He gave another high pitched laugh, followed by a whiny. He reared himself up, and began to charge the mare at breakneck speed, knowing that he was forsaking any possible chance of an ambush. He didn't care though, fixing her would be more fun this way.

Ritalin smiled as the mare began charging him in return, tucking her precious wings in. Ritalin had to make a split-second decision, veer off and turn around, or take the impact and go for her head. If he veered off, he wouldn't take the impact- but it would slow him down and give the mare an opening. If he took the impact and went for her head, she would be dazed for a moment and that would allow him to go for her wings. He would take the hit.

The hit hurt like the dickens, and set his nerves on fire. He grunted and gritted his teeth, raising his head up for a headbutt. He held nothing back as he thrust his head downward with enough momentum that the impact, if it hit, would cause him whiplash.

"Nothing's wrong with me! It's you that's got something wrong!" Ritalin jeered, shaking his head in amusement and to get his head to stop rattling. That hit had hurt more than he expected, and he knew he would be paying for it later.

He laughed, beginning to pace in front of the mare as he looked her up and down. Her muscles could easily be seen, tensed and ready. Her posture was graceful and hard, ready for confrontation. She was obviously trained in the ways of battle. He would have to play this fight dirty, or dirtier than usual.

"I'm just trying to fix you! Now stay still and let me clip those wings of yours!" He rushed again, this time aiming for her chest. If he knocked her down, she would be open, and Ritalin could tear her wings off right then and there.

"Dancing is only meant for the beautiful!" Ritalin screamed before his shoulder was smashed by the mare's hooves. His shoulder felt as though a landslide had fallen on it, causing it to no longer want to work with Ritalin. He grunted in pain, realizing that his shoulder would take a while to heal.

Furious now, Ritalin reared up on his own hind legs, and sent them crashing down just in front of the mare's face, wickedly grinning at her. "Let me fix you." He cooed, before lashing out his non-damaged leg at her shin.

“Everything is wrong with you! You’re a-“ SMACK! Her hoof collided with cheek, leaving a large gash in their wake. He spat to the side, blood flying out from the wound and landing on his hoof. He stared at the red plasma, eyes bugging out and pupils dilating. She drew blood; blood! His perfect white hide was now stained and sticky, a feeling that irritated him to the extreme. This mare had to go down now.

“You’re a conundrum!” He backed up, shouting. “You’re so beautiful, save for those filthy feathers! Those pieces of extra, unneeded flesh, bone, and sinew covered by those dirt and bug catchers! Let me make you completely beautiful!”

He noticed that she kept her wings tucked in, close to her body. She knew what he was after, and she wanted to keep them safe. He would get them, even if he had to plow through her leg, tearing it from her body. Then again, that would cover him in blood, and mar his coat even more.

Suddenly, he charged at her, feigning another head butt. He tucked his head in, but then leapt over her. When he thought he was at the right angle and altitude, he kicked out his hind legs, hoping to strike one of those foul members.

“It looks like I had a good chunk of them, foul siren!” Ritalin gloated, trotting – almost prancing- in a small circle, tossing his mane to and fro while laughing like the deranged stallion he had become. He was completely oblivious as to what was to come.

Suddenly, he felt his mane getting tugged on and nearly ripped out as he fell and skid on the hard packed dirt of the plains, sending him into a brief panic. His pupils went wide and wild and he started whinnying and kicking out, not accustomed to being on the ground. All he could think of was to get up, and too do it quickly. After a few seconds of frantic attempts at lifting himself up, he nearly succeeded until his back legs gave in. He snarled at the mare, knowing that if he didn’t get up she would trample him, and everything would be over. Apparently the fall had pinched a nerve, or bruised his bones, because he was struggling to get his hind legs to stand up. Grunting and grimacing in pain, Ritalin lifted them up with a great heave. He was sweaty, dirty, and bloody. This was not a happy horse.

“You whore! You dare defile me in such a way? Burn in hell!” Ritalin ,now completely gone, rushed the mare, snapping and snarling like some sort of Skin Walker. He was no longer focused on her wings; he just wanted to inflict pain, even if he hurt himself with the full body tackle he was about to attempt.

When Ritalin heard the sick crack that sounded like a white man’s gun, he gave a twisted smile as he fell to the ground with the mare. He was half-way there! As he began to push himself up again, he had the sensation of many knives digging into his skin and muscle. He looked down to see that the mare’s teeth were digging into him like a shovel in dirt after a heavy rain. He struggled, and eventually got himself free from her bite.

“Blood sucking leech!” He spat, shaking his leg in a failed attempt at ridding it of his blood and her saliva. Her filthy mouth had been all over his leg, her slobber in the open wound she had made with her germ-covered teeth. Disgusting! Those next two wings would be all the more fun to maim now.

He snorted and reared high, nearly toppling over backwards. His hind legs were straining under the pressure, already damaged and hardly able to support Ritalin’s weight even when he stood on all fours. If Ritalin was going to do this, he had to do it quickly. He whinnied, but heard a loud pop and came tumbling down to the earth. Maybe he would still hit the mare.