|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 1:12 pm
Huro's Teepee: [LINK] Kaen: size 9 Kerrigan: size 9 bold
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 1:32 pm
Kaen closed his eyes amidst the quiet night, enjoying the feel of the cool air upon his skin. It was not uncommon for him to be awake when others were tucked in their cozy resting places, dreaming blissfully. He had no one who would miss his presence at their side, who would stir when he shifted or feel a pang of sadness if they woke and he was gone. He slept alone, not for preference rather because he knew of no one who would stay with him through the night.
Oh, if he got lonely he could visit his brother's family- he was always welcome there. But with the children long-since grown, he felt... they made him very welcome, of course, but being without romantic love while they had found each other... it hurt, sometimes, even though it made his heart soar to know that such a love existed and that Kazan had found it true.
Opening his eyes, he blew his forelock from view with a puff of air. He was feeling sorry for himself again, and he had everything to be thankful for: his family was happy and in good health. He was healthy, strong, capable. He felt... tired.... still, like that great weight on his conscious caused by the absence of a mare in his heart was pressing down on him and making every step a little harder to take.
... and now he was being melodramatic.
... Why would something that was naught but a true description be considered drama?
Well, perhaps one need not dwell on it so much, but then when that feeling was ever-present he only felt as if he were ignoring it or trying to distract himself when he suppressed those thoughts. And that wasn't healthy either, right? Don't delude yourself, don't place blame, don't dwell rather consider and give each thought the time it needs to present its true intentions and true meaning.
He didn't have someone to sleep with, so he was awake.
A lingering survival instinct of a natural herd-animal? A yearning for romantic love?
He gazed at the moon in the sky, its twin etched in clouds upon his coat.
He didn't define himself as "without love." Family, of course- and the pride that he was doing all he could to make himself the best that he could be. "Without romantic love"?- well, he thought he had been in love once, but it was more desire than the deeper connection and wholly one-sided. Being without something, feeling that weight and that emptiness, were born out of his desire to share himself with someone else completely. To care, to know, to share wholly of oneself and to feel accepted and embraced in turn. Deep philosophical discussion, "How are you?" and the kind turn of simple conversation, those things he could have. But the look in someone else's eyes, the warmth and acceptance and yearning and even annoyance at times... all of that from the same wonderful individual, and more... that he did without.
Curiosity, desire, and the need to pair-bond... Would he know her when he found her, or would he be mistaken again?
Sometimes, being completely honest with yourself isn't very comforting...
He looked back at the trees, the gently sloping ground.
Where are you?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 31, 2014 1:42 pm
The night was his.
When he was a younger stallion, that train of thought would have ended there. He would have prowled, strutted, perhaps pondered his next act of deception. But now...
There were many who claimed the night as their own. Creatures of the night, shrouded in ebony. Dark, blood-thirsty animals. Kalona, Skinwalkers... the lighter breeds who had turned to darker inclinations, listening to those seductive whispers of self-indulgent passions and cruelty.
There were many, he thought, whose appearance mocked his own visage. Skulls, moonlit scenes, blood, hellfire. They weren't arranged quite so nicely as his markings, of course, and of course they'd never look quite so good as he wearing them.... but, there were some.
And they thought, too, 'The night is mine'.
Regardless, their claims worried this stallion not, for he merely acknowledged that they existed. Much more than he would have done as a younger stallion.
Besides, if any should like to challenge something he said in the privacy of his own thoughts... well. He'd meet them grinning.
Kerrigan paused, eyes wrought of hellfire and brimstone scalding the world around him, then strode onwards with natural grace and purpose.
He didn't know what his purpose was yet, of course- the night was still young- but oh, he would enjoy it when it presented itself.
He no longer sought mares to covet or claim, as he had found one who rose so far above all others that she was simply.... Her. Gorgeous, cunning, gorgeous, melodic, gorgeous, and her mind... oh, her mind. A true match to Himself.
Some day, they'd bless the world with their bloodline. Not that the world deserved it.
He had never given much thought to any children he had left behind, over the years. The mares had been there for that. Or, mare- he never did bother to follow up and how many had brought his children to bear.
One in particular, his first, he had been a little fond of when he'd finally left... but she had taken his charming act hook, line, and sinker, and he could never truly respect a mare who would fall for his art- however perfected that deceptive lure was.
This mare... his mare... Chione... refused to be his, truly, all the time. Even now, she had bid that they separate so that their rejoining be ever sweeter. He'd been away, she'd been traveling. He knew she missed him, as he did her- but he'd enjoy his solo time.
He looked around at his night, this night, now.
What do you bring me?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 02, 2014 11:08 pm
Kaen did not expect an answer. He would find it himself, some day.
In truth, if a steady wind had picked up and the trees had rustled especially vigorously as if to point the way, or a beam of light shown down on a path or a fellow form, he would... well. He would have been quite bemused.
Continuing on without so much as a sigh, he closed his eyes and moved blindly for a few steps.
The night was quiet, contemplative, reflective- or at least it drew those things out in him. The night itself probably could not care less what effect it had on those who passed through it- moonlight, stars, these things were mere light; darkness, shadows existed as a product of light; the combination of all these things was what made that thing called Night. Given a sense of being, feelings, the ability to care or not care and do something with purpose or without- those were the offerings of living creatures seeking to make sense of an in truth neither-indifferent-nor-caring-rather-simply-existing world.
Were he not so fatigued, he might have put it more eloquently- but then, what did it matter, in the privacy of his own mind?
He sought to keep his thoughts to truths, only unbiased judgements when he allowed himself to make any at all, and yet those selfish little pangs of 'why me' or 'why not me' still crept through.
That self-centered sort of wondering that never really had a satisfying answer, because one could not merely accept that the answer was: no reason.
It just was.
It just wasn't.
He was just alone.
For now, for as long as he chose to be- company was easy to come by, lasting affection was not. And he did not want a fling, or anything else that clashed with his moral code.
He wanted... what he desired, was built through time and not simply stumbled upon in the night. And yet if he kept moving, he might some day approach that moment of inception...
And some day find his answer.
He looked up at a sound of soft hoof-falls, the cadence one of grace and confidence.
His pensive features softened slightly- of course, he was not so alone as his thoughts made him out to be.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 11:38 am
Kerrigan strode forwards, daring the night to unveil its offering. As his line of sight fell upon the form of another stallion, a smirk danced across his handsome features. Ah. One of those nights.
He stopped, his stance that of a graceful predator laying in waiting- not overtly threatening, nor entirely soft, rather a queer mixture of both. Rather eerie, he thought; it did tend to leave quite the impression on those who witnessed it.
Just like everything else he did, it was meant to quietly impress.
Not that he wasn't entirely impressive even when he wasn't trying- and this really wasn't trying, it was just putting himself in a favorable light. All lights were favorable, come to think of it, when one was so distinguished as himself, so truthfully that expression made no sense.... to him, anyway. Others might certainly benefit from a particular tone or hue in the range of shadow and light.
Thus distracted, his eyes trailed over the other stallion in a rather belated fashion.
Another, wrought of night. Strangely... similar.
A light frown teased at the corners of Kerrigan's lips as he stared at that half-skull marking, framing ghostly blue eyes. At the swirl of stars upon a dark canvas, white pinpricks amongst the dark canvas.... so alike that... very first mare... of his.
Eyes wrought of hellfire bore into baby-blue.
Oh, certainly, it was possible.
Ironic, that on the very night he thought that he had never given much thought to any children he may have had... the night showed him one who could very well be .... his.
Diluted, impure, and yet closer to him than the other pretenders to the night. With her eyes. Not Her, not His, just... her.
The little one, the one who stayed with him just a little but who nonetheless was naught but a passing conquest.
What were the odds?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 11:49 am
Kaen stared at the stallion who stood poised just at the cusp of the range of his night-vision.
He stared. And blinked. And stared some more.
That softening of his features had tensed into disbelief. He was staring at an apparition, a ghost of this past- of his mother's past-, who nonetheless seemed entirely solid and real.
Surely there were others, who shared similar traits and countenance. He had happened upon others who bore skeletal markings, or perhaps fiery red eyes. Or orange. A moon, here or there, and accessories of sun-bleached bone. But all at once, on the same Soquili, on the same stallion? Never.
Until... now.
Stories filtered into his mind's eye, crafting the very stallion who now stood before him.
It couldn't be... could it?
Now? After he had wandered so long, passed through so many territories, never encountering... his....
He couldn't say it.
A father was someone who raised, nurtured, taught, protected. He had tried to be a father, to his children, but he was at the weakest point in his life and he simply couldn't bear to be there for him as he must have. It was his greatest regret, in life; and yet his brother, his wonderful brother, had stepped in and ensured that his children were raised right.
and they forgave him, as all wonderful souls would, and they understood.
And that, perhaps, was why he had moved on.
They had their lives, they didn't need him for all that they would make him welcome.
And this... this... trickster.
This sly steed.
Pieces, fragments, of him had made it onto Kaen's flesh, married with his mother's markings in such a harmonious way to create a new whole.
And yet... sharing this one's blood.
The resemblance of this one to his mother's stories was... uncanny. Exact.
Kaen sighed, still a little in shock.
At least he wasn't alone. Though time would tell if solitude was better than being anywhere near... this one.
"H..." he couldn't say Dad, or Father, or anything that was simply untrue to call this... Kerrigan.
And yet he didn't want that name to touch his lips either. "Hello."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 12:00 pm
Kerrigan smiled slowly at seeing the flashes of recognition and shock in the other's eyes.
His suspicions were confirmed.
Had the mare told her brood stories of their sire? Tales of caution, perhaps, or did she still believe the lies he spewed?
The other's halting greeting offered more support for the former than the latter.
It was like looking into a mirror that had shattered on contact. A whisper, here and there, of him, and a bit of her too. He had known, of course, that they would make handsome children- how could he not, after all?- but he had never quite thought all the way back and begun to wonder how they would be. Who they would be. Where.
This one was here. And he was certain that, where there was one, others had survived.
"Hello." he returned the greeting, his voice rumbling down low in his chest and blooming forth in melodic rich tones. A simple greeting; he approved, in some ways, even if the other stallion's delivery left much to be desired. He recognized the melody in the other's voice, even subdued as it was. With practice, perhaps, he could be a .... charmer.
Not as charming as Kerrigan himself, but... a quieter shade of the same cloth.
He waited, patiently, watching and examining the mirror shards that stood before him. Something about this one, other than his imperfect reflection, seemed... fragile. Broken.
Had his... son... - his spine tingled at the thought.- ... allowed himself to be ... toyed with?
Or was he just a little... off?
Kerrigan searched the gaze of the other, and found no sign of mental instability... other than that forlorn look that those lost souls who drifted along in the night sometimes wore.
He breathed deeply.
"What."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2014 12:08 pm
Kaen blinked, incredulous.
What? ... What?
The other's tone, his simple greeting returned in kind- almost mocking, yet sure-, had confirmed his identity as surely as a fingerprint might a two-legged thief. But this one stole innocence, and dignity, and made it his own.
Kaen frowned at his.... his.... sire... for no other word could describe him accurately. A tie of blood with none of the emotional attachment. Yes, sire fit this... one.
To show up, one night, to meet, to exchange a simple greeting, and the next thing out of his sire's mouth was What?
He frowned, looking internally. What do you want from me? What are you doing here? (He had seen no signs to indicate that this was personal territory, or that his wandering would be considered intrusion, so he knew it was not that). What... what's... wrong?
Had he allowed himself to convey ought of his internal turmoil outwardly? In his expression, or.... had his shock lowered his guard?
He assumed that, to so effortlessly manipulate others, this one had to be quite perceptive... even if there was significant thought put into how to use each one.
He had never wanted to meet his father. Even as a foal, his mother's warnings had been enough. But, now, now that he was here, he wanted to know Why. Not What, just... Why.
He could guess, of course. Because it was fun for a time, and then she bored him. Because he could. Because he can.
But somehow that didn't seem satisfying. He couldn't understand such an amoral creature, any more than he would try to relate to one.
But... it was his sire, here before him now, it had to be, there could be no other.... and.... it was....
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 9:59 pm
Kerrigan watched the emotions play across the other stallion's face, holding his slight smirk all the while.
In response for his demand for an explanation- why do you look like someone took your apple away, son? have another.- his... son... responded with a question.
He expelled a breath in slight exasperation. Maybe some things were genetic.
"Why what?" Be specific is the name of the lesson.
But, perhaps this mirror-shard was merely confused; this was, after all, the first time they had met. And he, himself, was only handling it so well because it only made sense that he had sired a few irstwhile children in his time.
He was, after all, Him.
But, perhaps he'd throw his little son a juicier apple.
"Because I was interested." he stated, as matter-of-fact as if the sun had risen today and fallen with the night.
His reasons were simple, pure. For everything. Why did he approach? Because he was interested. Why did he move on? Why did he leave? Why did he abandon them? Because... he was interested. Had been.
It took a lot to intrigue him, nowadays, and he rarely stayed for very long... he'd thought it impossible for another soul to hold his attention for more than a fortnight, until he'd met Her.
And, now... well. He understood why some stallions stuck around after the deed was done.
Waiting, he watched to see how his son- the first he had met, he thought with a glimmer of pride and remorse... the first son he had met, and it seemed broken... - he watched to see how his son would handle his response.
It was, after all, the truth.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 10:24 pm
To meet his father... and he was everything they'd told him he would be.
A living nightmare. Not grotesque, not overly crude or rude, just... slightly... abrasive, wrapped up in a nice charming package at times but still a little undercurrent of grittiness that left you feeling restless and slightly cheated upon waking. And yet, you were awake when you met him, so it was more like coming out of a fog or a daze and realizing who you had been talking to. Not the name or the face but.... the who, beneath it all.
Kaen stared for a few heartbeats, not quite daring to respond yet.
'Because he was interested.'
Oh, the implication was clear. As was who he was referring to. Kaen's mother, beloved. The mare he had taken advantage of, and left.
He was interested. He'd seen something he'd wanted, stuck around long enough to get it, and left. Conquer and abandon. That was his game.
Kaen frowned, staring at the dark soul before him.
"And this makes you happy?"
He couldn't understand it. He didn't know why he tried, except... this was, after all, his sire.
He couldn't use the word 'father' to describe him. Just as the sire had disdained to claim the son, the son would reject the parental bond. If any there was.
What had... happened... in his past. He'd taken it, and learned from it. He yearned still for the love he thought he had, but not with her- he understood that now- just, the love he knew was possible. And yet, when he was feeling so weary, it seemed entirely out of reach... for one such as he.
And, yet, that, too, was the whining of the past. He no longer thought that way, not really, not when he was thinking clearly, for he had come to understand and accept himself for who he was. To appreciate his merits, along with acknowledging his faults, and work constantly towards self-improvement.
Whereas this.... being... before him... only sought his own pleasure.
He sighed, feeling his energy fade away.
What could he possibly say to someone like this, to make them understand how wrong they were to use and abuse others like he had?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2014 10:46 pm
Kerrigan's smirk turned into a grin as the other stallion frowned. Ahh, you don't like that, do you?
He waited, letting the other think, work his mind into a frenzy. Or just a confused mess- he supposed that any son of his wouldn't get truly crazed over anything so simple. It really was fun, watching the other get himself worked up and then... oh, how boring. Kerrigan sighed as the other stallion drew breath and seemed to expel all that enticing anger that had bubbled up.
Well, if they weren't going to test their physical strength, he may as well play a little mental game.
But, then... didn't his son... deserve a little better?
He frowned.
He wouldn't pull out all his best tricks, not on his son. He was quite sure that that wasn't what She had meant when she told him to have fun, and... for some reason, he wanted to tell him the truth.
Call it... fatherly love.
He smirked.
"A passing entertainment, a little game- yes, these things are fun and bring pleasure." he quirked one eyebrow. "Do you not mess around, interact, do things just to smile? Just to feel happy? Just to feel alive?"
Remembering how many emotions he'd seen cycle across the other's face, he frowned a little in turn.
"You're not crazy, are you? You DO know how to have fun?"
That wasn't exactly the definition of crazy, and of course he knew that, but to him the logical transition made sense.
After all, why else would he question what was obviously very, very, amusing- if only for a short while?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
