[FIN] I Dare You to Move (Keiran x Arianwyn)

[Uta]

The land was unfamiliar, foreign, strange, for all the woodland shrubbery he could recognize and label. These were not the trees of the foothills of the Black Skull herd, nor the landscape and woodlands of the Kawani lands. No, he had abandoned those borders months ago in his most recent attempt to track down other kalona. It was not an easy journey, nor was it particularly fruitful. The kalona he did discover were either impure in blood or mind; too crazy or aggressive to be trusted on approach; already taken; or worse, simply not there at all.

Keiran was looking for a particular kind of kalona, despite keeping a mental assessment of herds, movement, and the general pulse of the great kalona of the world. Unfortunately, his true motive was not completely mercenary -- he was looking for a female. Not just any female, but one whom was worth pursuing, and ultimately, convincing them to return to Black Skull with him. The herd needed females, especially those of unrelated blood and stock. Though pure kalona were rare in the Kawani, there still looked to be a greater number of males than females. Sadly, from what he saw, females were as much a rarity outside of the Kawani, as within. . . .

Thankfully, Keiran was of great patience. This was his mission, and if he wished to help keep the great kalona line pure and strong, he could not give up on his quest. Even if that kept him months from his family and herd, even if that meant one less kalona to protect their lands, it was a sacrifice he could not avoid. So, every trip kept him out longer, and took him farther from the familiar. . .

Which is how the ebony stallion found himself following a trail in a densely wooded aspen grove. The woods were thick, and the stallion understood his black and purple etched hide stood out severely. Aloof as he might be, Keiran was not trying to keep himself hidden. He was a stranger, and the tracks he were trailing, the light scent on the winds and passing shrubbery, told him that he might be near kin.

It wasn't guaranteed -- he'd been tricked and fooled before -- having stumbled upon mutants and lessers and diluted bloods that weren't worth his spit. But, he had to follow every lead, no matter where it took him. Until he explored every inch of the land, Keiran refused to turn back empty hooved. Quietly, the shadowed stallion picked his way as lightly and stealthily as he could. It was a bit difficult -- his large size, the thickness of the foliage and trees, and his colors -- were all to his disadvantage. But, he was in no rush. . .

He would either follow this trail and find nothing, or be found first. Either way, Keiran was not fussed. He was not alarmed by whoever might be out there, by whatever his hunting might (or might not) dredge up.
 

[Uta]

His ears swiveled toward the sound of the voice, even as he paused in his push through the dense woodlands. The words were distinctly female, and there was something . . .strange in the tone she had taken with him. She was mocking him. It was not perhaps the wisest course of action, especially for a race so notoriously proud, but it showed the female -- whomever she might be -- was not afraid of the repercussions.

Good.

Thankfully for Arianwyn, Keiran had a (mostly) long fuse and slow burn. He was not like some of his more hot-headed, older siblings; his pride was great, but Maeryn had brought him up to think and use his head. He had pride, but there was a difference between being laughed at by one of their own kind, and having to defend his honor or that of his families from some lesser. Besides, he was too full of self-assurance and confidence to find her remarks at all ruffling... who this she might be.

Giving a small snort, the stallion appeared completely unruffled, though he did turn his attention toward the sound of her voice, no matter where it moved. "Your sense of observation serves you well," he finally spoke, commending the stranger with his dry humor. It almost felt foreign to do such a thing, for the serious and often stoic looking stallion was quite aloof and quiet, even on his best of days. He was not one for much talk, not unless he felt comfortable.

"I am well aware I am an eye sore among these lands, but I was not attempting to avoid detection or go unnoticed. As for my business, it is mine and mine alone." That was, essentially, true enough. He did not even know whom he spoke to, though he had hope it was the source of the trail he had been following. Giving a small flick of his tail, he added coolly, not the least be perturbed by her teasing or her unknown nature. "I do not make a habit of sharing it with wood nymphs."
 

[Uta]

. . . this wasn't entirely how Keiran had expected his morning to unfold. While a small part of him was pleased that this stranger was expressing confidence and, he hoped, was of kalona nature. . . he had no proof. Furthermore, she was not acting at all as he might have expected. He had prepared to be met with mistrust or some sort of gruff and hardened negativity; but . . . teasing?

There would be blood shed if whoever doing this was not of pure kalona lineage. He had a task to do, and every second was precious. Keiran was not the sort who often had time or excuses for games, at least not with those that were not worth his time or attention. Unfortunately, he was, thus far, at the mercy of the creature that danced around him and poked fun at him. . .

Still, her words were not necessarily said in malice or hate, and she had yet to drive him away from the lands. For now, his only choice was to play her game, and see what might come of it. His tail flicked a bit behind him, even as he tried to make sense of her words. "Not a wood nymph, then," he mused, "But myopic all the same." No, he didn't believe for a second she had anything wrong with her vision. But if she was going to tease, than he could too. Besides, she had been the one to say it. "I was unaware these lands were haunted. But as I do not believe in ghosts, I shall assume you're made of flesh and bone. . . Invisible, for now, but one I might yet track." Tightening his wings against his body, keeping his tail low and close, the large stallion made preparation to slip easier through the foliage. "One I could still hunt down, especially as you seem. . . antsy to be on the move."

It was not a threat. It was more of a statement, a veiled query on whether or not she wished to. . . . to what? Go somewhere else? Or maybe it was for his benefit alone. He did not care to be circled, for all that he was confident in his kills as both a hunter and a killer. Furthermore, he was in a new land, with no idea who or what this mare might be like, her skills, her age, or whether or not she was alone.
 

[Uta]

. . . wait.

She was mad at him?

His ears almost flattened for a moment, his surprise and confusion by the matter rather genuine, though he did his best to keep his features stoic and serious. Why was she angry? His words had not meant to be a true insult, he had only been playing the game which she had started. Granted, the stallion was unaccustomed to such silliness. . . . He came from a serious nature, and he was not entirely accustomed to this type of banter.

He was new at it and had thought he'd been doing it right. Thought he was doing it well given he was in water he had never swam in before. Apparently, he was in over his head.

Any reply or retort he was going to give the mare died as soon as the mare stepped out and in to view. Well, on the one hoof, he had been right! The tracks he had followed, the scent he had searched, had all lead back to a (seemingly) pure kalona. Unfortunately, Keiran found himself in front of one who was as young as he, if not perhaps a bit younger. Though all pure, kalona mares possessed a form of beauty that the young stallion could appreciate, this one was particularly exotic in her appearance. Unlike him, she possessed no markings, though he did catch the faintest purple glow of her eyes. She was beautiful. She was of the right age. She was one of the first kalona females he had found in a long time. And. . if her personality and lineage panned out. . . .

. . . then what?

It occurred to the stallion he had no idea what the next move was to be, especially if his intentions remained to convince the other to return to his herd. Besides which, the confidence he possessed, while it was not wavering, he did realize that this might not be as easy as he had first thought. Especially given the situation that he had some how ruffled her feathers.

.....maybe he should say something. She was angry and pouting at him, something that was kind of . . . . funny. Ridiculous, really, but funny all the same.

"I never once eluded to the fact that you were afraid," he corrected mildly, his patience still quite endless. "My words were not meant as true threats, simply statements to prove you not of another world." And a good thing, too! Riling up the other, though she might be glowering at him, it had at least worked in drawing her out. That part of the game was over, but for Arianwyn, proving her race meant Keiran was far more keen to play.

"But I see I have stood corrected on all counts." It wasn't entirely an apology, nor was it an obvious admittance that he had been wrong. "In turn, you have now since learned I am foreign, and not at all well suited to teasing or blending in." But that was to be expected. Pride warred with arrogance -- on the one hand, what did he care that he was not at all like this pale stranger? His skills might not be in games, but he was an excellent fighter, as well as a hunter. He was extremely protective and was not afraid to put his life down for his family or his herd. He was no fool (or so he liked to believe) and he was quietly passionate about a great many things. So what if he had a dry sense of humor? So what if he kept his feelings close and private? He was a catch. . .

And yet.

Admitting that he was already behind in impressing a kalona mare was not an easy pill to swallow. That was his long-term intention, was it not? He had to impress one, or convince one, to come back with him and yet. . . starting off by showing his faults? How was that at all impressive!? Especially when he had thought he was playing her game. Perhaps it was he who had been tricked.

Miss Cherie

 

[Uta]

Keiran had not time to jerk away from the unexpected tail thwack, and his large body gave her an easy target. His gaze narrowed slightly, though not out of wrath. It was more . . . curiosity as well as an internal frustration. Was this how all kalona mares acted? Surely, surely not! Oh, he had expected a fight and feistyness in his pursuits, stubborness, perhaps even anger, hate, mistrust but here he was. . . and what was he facing?

Games?
A tail thwap?
Mockery?

Still, Keiran knew that this was but the tip of the iceberg. They were practical strangers, and while he tended to take a more aggressive and hostile approach to meeting others, this mare had other plans, it seemed. Perhaps he would need improvise, and keep on his hooves if he wanted to further get to know this mare. . .

So. Let the games begin.

As she ducked back in to the aspen's, the stallion kept himself as small and light hooved as possible. He finally made his move to pursue. While she was difficult to track, blending in so well with the foliage, he was a warrior and an excellent hunter. As she had said herself, there was more way to see than with sight, and Keiran had both his ears and nose to help. She might have speed, she might know the lay of the land, but where she went, he could hunt and follow. On land or in air. . .

He was now quite determined.

Though he was large, and navigating through the aspens was not as easy for him as it was for her, the stallion did his best to keep up and follow, wherever she might be headed. Still, he kept himself quite alert, doing his best to remember where he came from, any visuals that might keep him from getting too turned around, and of course, being ever aware of the scents surrounding them. If she tried to lead him in to some trap, or take him in to territory that was heavily numbered, he would know. He was not afraid, but Maeryn had always enforced a kalona to have contingency plans, as well as an escape.

Even the most certain success could get ugly, and fast.

"I'm here because I am searching for others of our blood. Pure others, to be specific." Something the mare looked, but something (he knew) that could not always be guaranteed. Still, if she were mixed or diluted blood, she could not keep such a thing secret forever. "It is not an easy task, as I'm well sure you're aware, so when I saw your tracks and caught your trail, I decided to investigate. That is why I made no deign to hide, that is why, a black stallion such as myself has been caught in such white woodlands, and lingers."  

[Uta]

Keiran continued to follow the camouflaged mare, trying to keep pace with her, but clearly unable to do such a thing. It was unfortunate that here, within these woods and this unfamiliar terrain, she was perfectly in command. Even when finding her trail dead in the water, the stallion gave pause, contemplating which direction she may have gone.

She could have double backed.
She could have carried on forward.

Thankfully for Keiran, the mare had a tendency to talk, and before he had an opportunity to pick a direction, her voice broke out through the foliage. So, she had double backed, and could have attacked him from behind. Not a bad tactic, especially given her size compared to his own... if she meant to attack. As it stood, he was not yet alarmed, though he was fully aware that she could change her mind (and mood) at any given second.

He would not be caught off guard, if he could he could help it.

Her words at first made him snort. His red eyes attempted to seek her out, even as he picked his way slowly down the bank of the stream. It was good to be next to cool waters, or so his parched throat reminded him. But, before he drank, he had business to tend to -- did the mare truly have no idea about their numbers?

. . . . apparently.

Her following words did cause the stallion to raise a brow in a moments surprise. She also was unaware of the . . . of the contamination of their kin and blood. Was she alone in these woods or simply young? Maybe it was auspicious he'd been able to find her out this day. Even if she was not of long term interest, it would be good to at least educate her in what was happening outside of these woods.

"It doesn't seem that difficult because, as you just admitted, you have never tried to seek out or own kin. And the fact that no other kalona's have entered these woods and sought you out before me is. . . . alarming." The gravity of his words made sure that this was no longer a joke, no longer a laughing matter. At least not Keiran.

Females were difficult enough to find, but why was never found? Had she kept herself hidden? Was him finding her a pure fluke? Or worse. . . had he simply been the first to trek so far? Were their numbers settling with lessers because their pure kin were so low? It was a chick and egg scenario -- their numbers were low, so they could not breed with pures, so they bred with lessers, which only helped further keep their numbers low.

"I mean exactly what I state," he explained, his voice taking on a slightly hardened edge despite his cool patience. It was NOT directed at the stranger mare, though. He was frustrated due to the situation he could not control. It was as if the kalona race had given up on itself, had faded. And why? They were a great and powerful species -- proud, yes, but cunning, strong, and predatorial. That walkers could keep such a firm hold for being such a new race, and being mindlessly wicked, unable to work together. . . . It was disgusting to him.

That vermin like that could swell in numbers and their own become endangered? He refused to submit to such a fate.

"There are many out there, many kalona--if they could be called that-- who have diluted and tainted the blood. They have turned soft, stupid, desperate, and have bred with lessers and those not of the kalona line. Where I come from. . . . there are so few true kalona, that we are nothing more than a rarity. A memory of a time long past. We are of an endangered race, I fear, and this I do not exaggerate." His tail swished irritably behind him, teeth involuntarily bared as he spoke of such . . . upsetting news.

"The lessers do not fear us, nor respect us. They believe we are nothing more than one of them." He almost spat the word, considering how many mares and stallions took not his threats seriously, nor that of his families. They were so concerned with skinwalkers, that they forgot that kalona were the original predators within the Kawani. They were the original demons
 

[Uta]

Keiran kept his red eyes on the mare, listening to her objections and firm dismissals. It was terribly peculiar to come to this land, to finally meet a kalona, and to find her views completely unlike his own. Was she simply ignorant of the world, or was life different in these lands? These lands which were so foreign, so far from his own. . . Was life so different here? Honestly, he couldn't say, but he had to wonder given the mares strong response.

For a long moment, the red eyed male said nothing. He kept his gaze firmly on the long haired kalona, considering her words carefully. She was young, but she seemed bright enough, alert enough. Surely she . . . she genuinely couldn't know? A small part of the kalona male did wonder if, perhaps, it were not possible that things were not so bleak in these parts? As much as he attempted to keep note of kalona in his search, he was sure to have missed at least some. . .

Snorting, the stallion pawed at the bank of the river, digging his cloven hoof in deep to sandy, muddy bank. "It would be a great thing indeed if these lands were not like my own. Perhaps then, you miight tell me what the situation is here, on your lands?" Never had Keiran wished to be as wrong in his life about something, as he was his assessment on the neighboring lands.

Even now, he had only found Arianwyn, but she would know best what local kalona numbers, and dare he say, herds, might have grown to be. . .?

Unfortunately, even if he were wrong about the strength of numbers within her own woods. . . he knew what it was like back in the Kawani. This was a truth that he stood by one hundred percent. He knew the perversion of their kind, the weakness and disgraceful blood that ran through their veins. He knew and saw and had witnessed their great race succumb to such horrible things. . . and continue to kill off great blood lines by doing so. "Perhaps this land you hail from is blessed by Kalona himself," he finally replied, "But the taint . . . the dilution of our blood, the amount of cross-breed kalona I've seen near my home lands, as well as on my travels, is shocking. At the very least, you might know what is happening outside of this woodland." Whether this stranger believed him or not did not matter -- he knew truth. He had no reason to lie to her, though he was pleased that she seemed as disgusted by the concept as he alone was. At least she knew, and whether she chose to believe it now or not, someday. . . someday soon the plague would reach even her borders.
 

[Uta]

The stallion listened to the mare, listened to this land that was both blissfully sweet as well as more of a danger. While the lessers back home were known to be wary of kalona, some were stupid and blind and assumed that his own kin were not at all a threat. Granted, the male understood that the way so many paired with lessers or interbred with other races, why should they?

Black Skull had been created so the kalona foals of the world could be safe. Maeryn had seen to that, had seen a place where their kind could group together and do so safely. While that was the same today, and any foals born within the lands were to be raised as they should, Keiran understood that the herd was needed simply to preserve the old ways!

"It is good to hear that there are others here." He admitted, even if their numbers were growing smaller over the years. "From what I know, the hate of the lessers was what drove my families herd to form, so many years ago. It is good that these lands are still. . . clean. . . . of the parasites that have since tainted our race and reputation." His disgust and indignation at those animals that wore their face but cozyed up to lessers, that allowed their blood to become mixed, was more than clear. It pleased him that the mere thought astounded this mare, as much as he wished that it were not so.

Ah, but her stories of the prejudice against the other soquili breeds, the danger. To hear that they would gang up on foaling mares and foals themselves? The stallions red gaze flashed a bit brighter in color even as he dug his hoof just a bit deeper in to the ground. His tail swished behind him as he considered such an abuse. . It was stories like that which was why Black Skull had been formed -- to keep their kind, especially their vulnerable foals and foaling mothers, safe. At least that was an enemy they could wage war upon, could fight.

They knew their faces. Finding the face of those seemingly pure kalona which encouraged such sin with those lessers? Difficult to cleanse, to drive out. . . and the damage was done with every new foaling, with every new mix. It was a war he was unsure they would ever win.

Keiran listened to the mare as she spoke of her grandsire. If he moved past these woods, if he attempted to investigate the land surrounding the area, perhaps he could bring some news of hope back to Black Skull. Still, it was possible the numbers would continue to dwindle... Provided the kalona's of these lands did not turn soft. It was that softness, that desire to interact with lessers, which only helped taint the image and their numbers, further.

"Than I shall sincerely hope, for the safety of those herds, of those independents, for your own survival, that these lands stay untarnished from such a form of depravity." He was not afraid of defending himself against a lesser. . . but he knew the damage, the cost, that came from kalona treating them as friends, or worse, lovers. And doing so so successfully!