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Legends speak of a vast herd outside of the kawani lands. They call this herd the "Storycoat Herd", each members coats telling a new story. Over time, different clans or "sub-herds" formed within the grander one, following a certain genre of story, certain traits gifted to them from the spirits representing them in some way.

While it is a distant herd, two members of the Asgina Kanehelvsgi (Ghost story) Subherd, gifted with eerie translucent hair and spooky coats have found their way to the Kawani lands and the storytellers Circle, with their own stories to tell....

For the Stallion




For the Female

Username: Syaoran-Puu
Mares name: Lavernia
Temper: Ominous

Her story:
Eerie golden eyes shone out from the dark red of her pelt, two twinkling eyes that shone like earthbound stars in the night. Many had gathered to hear her story, it was not an unusual thing but tonight felt different, as if the ghost world was closer to reality... all hallows eve often had that effect on the painted mare. Still, that did not change her mission. Upon her pelt was a story, one that was designed to be shared with the world.

A slight smile lifted her lips. It was time.

"A long time ago, when the world was still new,
There was a young mare by the name of Bonesoo,
Bonesoo was adventurous, and travelled the world,
No deed was ever too small, for her heart was so large.

Bonesoo met a stallion, who whipped her away,
Showing her more things than she could imagine,
With each day that passed, her heart shared more,
Until she was his through and through.

As the sun slowly set, and with courage called forth,
She planned to share what her heart really thought,
But before she could say it the stallion did change,
A roar and a scream did follow.

Poor little Bonesoo, left broken and alone,
The stallion had gone and left her,
But rather than whole, he had broken her bones,
So she could never follow after.

The tears they did rain, like a river of shame,
Mixing with the blood of her injuries,
Giving up hope, she looked to the sky,
Just as a flash scurried past her.

Something did tickle, and she felt really strange,
Her flesh being stitched back together,
Except on the front where her bones were left bare,
And suddenly the tickling did end.

Eyes of bright blue, flickered around,
Until they lay sights on a spider,
Glancing at her wounds she instantly knew,
It was soft web that had stitched her together.

And so this once happy mare, by the name of Bonesoo,
Had forever been changed by a stallion,
The cruel actions of one would have left her broken and cold,
If not for the help of a spider."

username: Jynk

Stallions name: Revenant
(a person who returns as a spirit after death; ghost)

Temper: Spooky

His story:
The stallion took a deep breath, coming closer to the bonfire the others had gathered around. It was his turn to tell a story, his first time to stand before the storyteller's circle and show off his craft. Patiently, he waited for the din to die down and he held the gathered Soquili's attention before clearing his throat. In the quiet of night, with only the crackling of the fire for company, his voice resonated clearly as he spoke, gesturing to the pictographs painted along his body as he wove his tale.

"Dark. Darker than any night that had come before it was the night the traveler had set out on his journey. He had walked for some way before he heard a voice calling softly. 'Don't look behind you. Don't look behind you.'

"The traveler noticed the voice was very close and the hairs of his mane stood up with a prickly feeling of fear. He walked a little further and still the voice called to him. 'Don't look behind you. Don't look behind you.'

"Soon he came across a small black cat and asked it 'What is it that asks me not to look behind me?' The cat merely shrugged and wandered away for it could not tell him. Again the voice called. 'Don't look behind you. Don't look behind you.'

"The traveler became more and more frightened at the voice. He changed his path to walk out more into the moonlight. Soon, he began to relax, the feeling of safety in the light over taking him. That is, until he heard the voice again. 'Don't look behind you. Don't look behind you.'

"By now he'd had enough of this. Who was this to follow him all this way and taunt him? He stopped where he was and snorted. The voice called again. 'Don't look behind you. Don't look behind you.' And then, for good measure, it added, 'You'll be sorry.'

"'I don't care. You can't taunt me no longer,' the traveler said and, in a fit of boldness, he turned to come face to face with a Soquili not unlike himself, at least in coloration, for the rest of it had been mostly skinned, it's ruined pelt dragging behind it and leaving a bloody trail.

"The ghost snapped it's strong deformed at the traveler. 'I told you that you'd be sorry.' The traveler's scream echoed across the forest as the ghost lunged for him.

"Days later, a new traveler was walking down the darkened path when behind her she heard a soft voice call out. 'Don't look behind you. You'll be sorry.'"

The young stallion snapped his teeth together, making some of the young foals in the crowd jump, before bowing and moving back to his place.

username: Duelist of Pokemon
Stallions name: Kaever
Temper: Distant

His story:
The fire gently flickered and danced across a smokey hide, letting the pictures of an untold tale shift upon his skin. They came to life with this first breath as those gathered around him watched and waited with baited breath. This newcomer...A surreal spirit that had not been seen for time beyond tale, had become a reality with a whispered invitation on the wind.

Now, the object of their focus stood with warmth shimmered in his golden eyes.

"Listen now, my friends. My children of the the mortal Earth." His voice was as soft and translucant as the mane that lifted in the falls' bitter breeze. "Can you hear those that drift between Our world and the Eternal Mist? The place where one comes when they breathe anew and to where they go when the heart ceases to drum?"

The group shifted and muttered nervously as the one before them smiled more.

"It is told, sung, and cursed of. The Gods do not allow these to wander to untamed and free. Confinded to the Eternal Mist, they drift day by day, night by night.

Their cries of fear go unnoticed by the living.
Their tears of lonliness go uncomforted by those who loved them in life.
Their hatered becomes undirected and as passionate as the unburned flame...."

He leaned closer, the flames reaching up to darken and carrass his face.

"Thus, that which waits beyong the Heart of Light, she who watches over the night-" He looked up towards the full moons' eye above them, several others joining his gaze before returning to the earth. "-The shadows of torment and chaos await with bloodstained claws. Those who live without the light....They speak of madness into the unsespecting. They whisper words of doubt and hurt, hardening the heart that no longer hears Her voice. Can no longer see Her light."

.....

"They now seek only to dominant. To destroy. To Possess." The stallion paused and shook his head in smypathy, for the barest moment allowing tears of hurt to brighten his saddened eyes. "The tainted dispise the Living of the Earth. They would have pierced the Veil that protects our home all at once, that is.....Had it not been for Her children."

A small colt snuggled beside his mother then piped up. "Children? You mean like me and my sisters?"

The stallion chuckled at the innocent question.
"Patience, young one." The mother gently nudged the young one into silence. Only when thus so did he take up the thread of tale again, shifting so a particular marking was visable upon his features. The fire that warmed them brought life upon the shadowed feline, allowing it to shift against the pale cradle of the night.

"It the Nights when Her eye is most open and the Nights in which she Sleeps, does the Veil thin itself the most. Chaos rises like the Serpent to strike the sleeping...Yet, from the crystals of her ribe do Her Children spring upon the Tainted."

"Taking the shape of those who traverse the night, of the swift and silent, of those who watch and wait with slit eyes of gold and coats of the darkest hour." He stepped back a bit as the fires burned lower. "Even unseen by those forgotten, They strike at times when those able to defend themselves cannot. With claws that pierce even strongest armor, fangs that shimmer in the light, under Her words do they take those who wander back to the Mist."

He paused, letting the story hang in the air.
Only after a moment did one speak.

"What happens to them?"

Stepping back more, the stallion chuckled and pawed at the ground. "Do I say? .........Unfortunately, that is not my tale to spin- Or...perhaps that tale is not yet complete?" He whickered and nodded at the disappointed voices. "Perhaps someday we may meet again. Perhaps I may have the ending you seek? Or is it a tale that should not be finished?"

He smiled and turned to walk away, pausing only to stare at the moon.

"She is the only one who knows."

username: Kara Asumie
Stallions name: Daisaku ((Ghost Writing))
Temper: Cunning

His story:

username: Scaramouche Fandango
Mares name: Gloaming
Temper: Impish

Her story:

“Do you know why it is that spiders’ webs sparkle at dawn? Take a good look sometime. Even on mornings when there isn’t much in the way of dew, they sparkle. They always will, but it wasn’t always like that. Sit down for a spell, and I’ll tell you why.

Once there was a ghost. It doesn’t matter how she died; it was long, long ago, long enough that even she didn’t remember. She’d come to terms pretty quick with being dead; after all, it’s not like anybody’s ever gotten better after being dead. Yes, she was dead, stone dead for years, but that didn’t stop her from loving him. Oh no. She’d watched him and loved him all his life. The way she saw it, him being born on the spot where she’d fallen all those years ago made him special. She watched as he grew up into a handsome fella- a stallion brave and true. And so skilled with that horn of his! Yes, her unicorn prince was a handsome beast, and she was content to love him, hovering over him as he slept and kissing his eyelids. Some nights, he twitched and frowned, muttering in his sleep. On those nights, she left, saddened. But other nights, he whickered softly to himself and nuzzled deeper into his flanks, the muscles of his neck glimmering in the moonlight. On those nights, she stayed with him, dropped to her knees. The ghost was contented to be with her stallion by night, but she worried. It wasn’t that he would find a mare; no, she accepted this eventual reality. But she wanted so much for him to see her. Even if it was just once. She wanted him to see her as more than a shadow; to hear her as more than just the burbling of the brook or the breeze through the grass. This was her only wish, and the wishes of the dead are a powerful thing.

The shaman with the scarred face never told her his name, nor where he came from, nor how he knew of her plight. All he said was that he could make her dream come true, and when you’re desperate, you’re desperate. The worry had changed to a nagging ache in what used to be her heart, and she knew that eventually, the agony would drive her mad. She would dissolve into the ether, like so many other souls before and after her. Her love gave her something to hang onto, and she was grasping it by the roots. So when the shaman spoke, she listened. “Take me to your bones,” the shaman said, “and I’ll make it so that you can be with him forever. It might take some time, but eventually, he will come to you.” Stupefied, the ghost nodded, wondering how the human could see her. She assumed that he was just a gifted shaman, one who regularly did this. And what a kind shaman, too! He’d help her be with her love. She’d show him. So she took him to her bones in the spot where she’d first laid eyes on her beloved, and he dug them right out of the ground. They were old, stained sepia from years of dirt and channeled through by insects; but to those who deal in what’s left of the dead, bones are bones. The shaman soothed her with kind words, and as she slipped to do whatever it is that ghosts do during the day- don’t ask me, I’m just the storyteller- she failed to notice the wicked smile crack his face as he began to grind the bones into powder.

That night, she approached her stallion in his wakefulness, eager to finally have her recognition. “My love,” she called with the voice of the wind. “My dearest stallion! What…” But as she gazed into his eyes, the question died on her lips. He couldn’t see her.

He couldn’t see anything.

Something was desperately, desperately wrong. His eyes, once clear and sparkling, were fiery and mad. Something had changed within him. He was a beast now, in the process of becoming something much, much darker.

And she knew that to set his soul at rest, she had to kill him.

The ghost wanted his death to be swift. Painless, if possible. But her champion was now a monster, and she knew that a swift death would never come from a bear or a wolf. So she asked the rattlesnake to do it, but the rattlesnake knew that the sharpness of the cursed stallion’s hooves would sever his head. She asked the scorpion, but he knew that the stallion’s weight would crush him. So she asked the spider, and she understood. The black widow knew all too well what it was like, having to kill that which you loved most, and so she agreed to bite him as he slept.

The ghost spent one more night with him. Once again, she kissed his eyelids, but this time was rewarded with a showing of his sharp, sharp teeth and a growl, and she knew that there was no going back. She nodded at the spider, and the widow did her work.

It didn’t take long for the stallion’s ghost to rise from his body. For a moment, a brief, shining moment of joy, the ghost thought that all would be well. His reign of terror had ended, and they could be together. Forever.

Until she noticed his eyes.

They were clear. They were sparkling. And they were full of hatred, pointed right at her. And she knew. She knew then that this was all her fault. That many innocent creatures had died, including the stallion she loved, that this loss of life had been pointless, and that he was completely aware of this. And so she fled, dripping tears in her wake. She wanted to fade away, but the Powers saw fit to punish her by making her exist with him and his rage for the rest of eternity.

We’ve mostly stopped listening to ghosts now- even the spider can’t see her anymore. But on still nights, when you hear eerie wailing from nowhere? So does the spider. She still feels guilty about the whole thing, guilty enough to collect the ghost’s tears and set them out for the sunrise to take. It’s the hope of the spider that maybe, just maybe, if the ghost can’t leave this realm… at least a little bit of her sadness can."

1,100 words exactly!

username: HarukaHaru
Stallions name: Dante
Temper: inspirational

His story:
Everyone gathered around the campfire to hear the best tale of them all, Dante's tale about death and someplace dark. Every Halloween, his tale made others shiver with fear and shriek from panic. Dante grinned mischievously at his guests for the evening, and once everyone quieted, he decided to begin.

"It was a night where the moon was red, the shadows from the trees stretched farther than before. This is the night that the spirit world connects with our world. Shrieks, moans and screams can be heard as others enter our realm. It is best that every living thing stay out of the way of the spirits. You walk through the eerie woods to go to your home but pause in fright when you hear a scream that is not entirely human."

Dante paused the story to look around at his guests, the look on their faces just screamed to him that they wanted to know more. He smiled to himself this time and took a deep breath before he continued.

"You hurriedly run to safety only to find a rather large black cat peering at you with his glowing yellow eyes. The cat stalks towards you letting out these horrible, blood curdling screams. You try and move to run away but seem to be frozen in place. As the cat gets closer, you notice the ground beneath you starting to rip and tear open. Panic seizes you, you call out for help but hear nothing in return except the cat screaming."

A few of the guests got really close to each other as if it were happening to them and that being close would save your soul. He snickered to himself at the idea of it all but figured he should wrap things up before it gets to the point where he has to be an escort.

"You hear strange laughter coming up from under your body, the ground opens up completely and you fall through. Blue, white and black mist seem to surround you, the mist seems to be protecting you as the evil spirits try and attack you. Before long though, you find yourself floating in air with the mist as the black cat from before appears before you and grows even bigger.
The mist seems to vanish and you urge it to come back, nothing happens and you look at the cat only to find that it is coming closer. You close your eyes and try to wake but you hear more screams and know your still there.
"What do you want?" You call out, thinking you could offer up something in return for your freedom. The cat just smiles at you and before you can blink, the cat has knocked you over on the ground and is holding you down with its massive paw. You are helpless and can't fight against the cat as it leans down and bites into your neck, blood gushes out of you and pools around you. The cat removes its paw and shrinks back to normal only to lap at your blood as the life slowly drains from your body."

Dante moved away from the campfire, a smile on his face because he knew that his guests would be rather paranoid if they ever saw a cat of any kind.