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 Posted: Mon Apr 20, 2015 8:11 pm
 In the deepest, darkest part of the forest, there lived a stallion. He was cold, forbidding... and entirely ruthless. Clever, yes, but cruel. Once, long ago, there might have been a heart beating within the stallion's chest. If there was any vestige of that heart remaining, it had hidden itself away long ago, its stirrings all but a memory now.
Tom Marvolo Riddle was not a normal stallion, to say the least. He had never been normal. When his dying mother had left him on the outskirts of the Kawani village, he may, perhaps, have had a chance of becoming so. He had been a mere basket, his mother too torn and broken to sustain her own life. In that time, there had been some slim hope for a young Tom. Such hopes, however, were not to be.
His strangeness had rendered him outcast. As a colt from a cursed lineage, he had found no solace in the Kawani village. So, he had left to make his own way... still too young, truly, to understand the world. For a time he had ran with a small herd of colts, many of them orphans like himself. Even there, however, he had been unwanted. And so he had turned to cruelty, to anger, to rage. A cold rage that he had unleashed upon the others-- all save one.
That one occupied his thoughts now. Where was Chandar, the only being in the world to have shown him kindness? The only other whose company he could tolerate? He brooded, musing upon matters of the present while tracing his steps back to where he had last seen the other. The pale stallion was in a mood to be entertained, or at least to have an audience of his own. He picked his hoof steps out with care, moving all but silently through the underbrush.
Did Chandar remember that he had killed one of their foalhood companions? That he had tortured another? They had been insolent. Called him names that no other had dared. Half-blood. Twisted. Monster. Oh, and perhaps he was all of those things. He knew very well what he was capable of. What he'd been capable of. Yet... somehow it still galled him that they'd dared. They had not feared him enough.
Well. That mistake had been remedied. The others had been left with a healthy fear, all save his favored chosen. Couldn't they see that he'd been right all along? That there were weaker, lesser beings that needed to be wiped out? That... the sickness of the breed could be eradicated, if only they took strong measures. The presence of Skinwalkers in the lands spoke to this. He had not yet decided whether their arrival was a sign of the sickness or of the cure. Either way... he found himself oddly fascinated by the breed.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2015 10:20 am
 Chandar picked his way through the woods, not really going anywhere in particular. He had always been a bit of a roamer, had always allowed his hooves to carry them where they might choose. Mostly, he let them steer him away from others -- he was too aloof, too mistrustful, and too bitter to find the company of others comfortable. Chandar had lived most of his life on his own, and he seemed to prefer it. The black and green stallion could depend on himself. . . and only himself. The world would be quick to turn on another, would be quick to take advantage as soon as a weakness presented itself, so Chandar kept himself far apart from others.
It wasn't always easy.
The Kawani sorts were a nosy bunch and he'd often found himself under their scrutiny. Why was he all alone? Why was he in a dark place? Why was he being rude? Why was he covered in scars? From that dramatic pink mare Sakura to that prying wind stallion, and everything in between, Chandar found that he much rather preferred to keep to his own council. He didn't need anyone or anything. . . He was fine just the way he was.
Most recently, Chandar had found himself in the darkest part of the forest. While such a paradise was great for a recluse like him, he was old enough to know that other strangers likely haunted such a cold place. He hadn't been wrong. What had surprised him, though, was the one that resided within the woods had been an oddly familiar face -- Tom. The last time Chandar had me Tom had been years ago, back when he'd been nothing more than a leggy and defensive half-starved colt. He had run in the same circle of orphaned foals, and had learned the hard way that life would be unkind and most cruel. He had eventually been beaten and ostracized out of the small herd, and had eventually left Tom. . . But the white colt had been the closest thing he'd had as a friend, or at least some sort of ally, and he had not forgotten him.
Meeting him as an adult, after so many years of hardship, had been strange. Chandar was still defensive, was still unsure whether or not he wanted to linger. Hanging around these parts, hanging around Tom, might give an impression of vulnerability. The white stallion was simply one of the least offensive soquili Chandar he had met. Tom was cold. Tom was cruel. And Tom didn't give a damn about what Chandar did or how he acted. It was strangely refreshing, but also strangely unnerving. No, Chandar didn't trust himself to linger long in the area -- Tom had been his only friend as a colt, but Chandar didn't trust such a label. They were as much strangers now as they had been as colts, and it was probably for the best that didn't change.
Still. . . As he circled back into the woods, Chandar knew that his hooves weren't quite ready to leave the area. There was something comforting within the darkness. While Tom was around, somewhere, this particular area was not prone to drawing others. It was quiet and it was safe. Whatever other monsters might lurk in the woods were beasts Chandar could deal with . . . for wasn't Chandar but a monster himself?
Drawing within the woods, he watched as tendrils of mist wove through the trees. Ears pricked and muscles tense, Chandar was ever aware of his surroundings, and rightly so. The further he roamed within this dark world, the more he became convinced of another's presence. Vibrant blue eyes narrowed and his expression hardened into a scowl. Pawing at the ground, he gave a snort, and waited to see if he'd be found out. Maybe it was Tom. . . maybe it was some other beast. Either way, the stallion had no intention of calling out. He'd let whatever was out there find him first.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2015 10:39 am
An all too familiar scent lingered throughout this region of the forest. Ah, yes. He had, once again, found himself in Chandar's company. Was the other staying intentionally? Had he simply grown... complacent? Comfortable, in such a remote region? Tom circled the wood, moving as silently as the ghostly wings of an owl at night. He was a predator. Stealth was the name of the game, and he had always been especially good at winning. His current chosen prey was alerted to his presence. Of that he was certain.
After all, they had found one another not so very long ago. Found one another again, rather... for that discovery had not been their first meeting. Chance had brought them together a few times now. For what purpose... had yet to be seen. He had pondered cultivating the other as a minion. Such an idea appealed to his sensibilities...
Yet he found himself balking at it, and for what reason he could not tell. The other was... too familiar. Yes, he was too familiar. Knew Tom too well, perhaps, to be of the best use. Still, there were possibilities there. Things that he intended to pursue. Tom never wasted a good opportunity. Anything that would allow him to gain a foothold in this land would not be overlooked. He paused in his circling when he caught the sheen of a particular black hide. "Chandar." The stallion stood in quiet elegance, observing his foalhood companion through eyes that held a sinister, ruddy gleam.
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Posted: Wed Apr 22, 2015 8:31 pm
Chandar gave his tail a flick, waiting for whatever was out there to make itself known. He was prepared for an attack, and more than ready to fight. Fighting was his only real talent, his only real skill... Some were cunning and calculating, others were artistic or creative. Chandar was none of those . . . but he could fight, and he was too damn stubborn to die. The scars from the bearwalker were proof enough of his obstinate nature. Chandar liked to claim he feared very little, but the reality was, his entire nature had sprouted from that of a terrified colt. Fear was the foundation of all he knew, and it was what drove him in all that he did. Fear of not being strong enough, fear of not being good enough, fear of being taken advantage of, fear of failure, fear of someone finding out the truth. But this was neither here nor there. . . .
Right now, the black coated stallion was waiting, and he didn't have to wait long. Sure enough, throughout the shadow, he caught movement. The shadows were dark, but there was enough paleness to Tom's coat to stand out, even so deep within the wood. The stranger's footfalls were light but familiar, and he was confident he knew exactly who lurked around him. As soon as the stranger broke the silence, Chandar gave a small snort. "Tom." He didn't relax, and instead, focused his gaze on the stranger. It appeared as if his current companion had paused in his circling, and blue eyes stared hard at the shadows that made up his foalhood companion. He wasn't sure what the other wanted, though the stallion knew it was he who was skulking about his territory. These lands were not his own, and yet he had not left. Not yet, at any rate. A small part of the ebony stallion knew it was in his best interest to leave . . . . and he would. It was just a matter of time, wasn't it?
Chandar thought he saw pinpricks of red within the dark. He kept his blue gaze focused on Tom, but said nothing else. He had no reason to speak, and had never been much of a conversationalist. Whatever Tom was doing out this way was his own business, and Chandar wasn't going to ask.
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 8:27 am
The other was... tense. On his guard. As well he might be, given whose company he was currently keeping. Yet Tom had not decided to attack the black stallion. Like day and night, they stood in the darkest part of the forest, the place that was Tom's home. "Still here?" he questioned, quirking a black brow up in inquiry. There was not a lot to say, just yet. Not while he was trying to figure Chandar out. What had kept the stallion within his borders? "I confess, I did not expect you to linger." Though one could argue that Tom had given the other reason to linger.
He watched Chandar, trying to read the stallion, even in this dark place they found themselves in. How could one read darkness? But he was determined, all the same. He listened, and listened well. What Chandar did not say was just as revealing as what he did say, after all. So he waited. He had had success in dragging answers out of others in the past. Now should be no different.
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 9:33 am
The stallion stared at Tom within the darkness, alert, and as always, defensive. If there was one thing about Tom that had not changed since their foalhood, it was the knowledge that he was not someone to trifle with. He was a cunning stallion, and not someone to relax around. He had not attacked him yet, but who knew what Tom might want? Additionally, Chandar wasn't sure whether it was right or wrong for him to have lingered. These lands were not his own, and just because he had reunited with his now-grown foalhood companion, didn't mean he had been invited to stay.
The green and black stallion gave a small snort, pawing at the ground with a sharp hoof. His ears did flatten, his defensiveness clear. Why hadn't he left yet? Tom's comment hit a nerve among the stallion, and even Chandar wasn't sure why he hadn't yet left. He had not attachment here, the lands weren't his own. They were dark, they were reclusive, but . . . why had he felt the need to linger? "I'm making my way to your borders," he quickly stated, which was true enough. He had walked along those borders earlier, but had turned away, not quite ready to leave. "I'll be gone soon enough." Just in case Tom wanted him gone now . . .
He didn't blame Tom. Chandar wasn't sure he'd want strangers lurking about his territory, either. Still, the stallion held his ground, watching Tom. He wasn't intimidated, but he did hope the other didn't ask why he'd lingered. Honestly, Chandar himself didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to think much of it.
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 9:40 am
Did he reveal even part of his hand, even to this other who had been and was a friend? Such questions had often plagued him; Tom didn't like letting anyone that close. Yet... there was a certain draw to the other's presence that made him wish for such closeness. Perhaps he had simply recognized the other's potential. Perhaps he tired of his own company. "I had hoped that you might linger," he said at last, watching the other with eyes that burned a ruby hue.
"Is my hope misplaced?" he inquired, raising his head slightly, ears pricked forward. That the other claimed that he would be gone shortly did not please him. How could he find use in the other's presence, whatever form that took, if Chandar left?
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 5:14 pm
Blue eyes studied the other, unsure how he would respond. Would he encourage him to leave? Would he wish him to stay? Would he not care either way? It didn't matter much to Chandar, at least, that's what he told himself. Why should he care what Tom preferred? He never cared much what others thought of him, or so he liked to say, and why should he? He did what he wanted, how he wanted, and that was that. Still, he knew Tom was not a kind soquili, and was not to be underestimated.
When Tom made his confession of hope, it caught Chandar well off guard. For just a moment, his ears pricked and he almost looked genuinely startled. . . . but his defensive nature was quick to guard his expression. He didn't want tom to know anything, didn't want to let anything through. So, he gave a snort, and pawed again at the earth, thoughtful. How was he supposed to respond to that? Graciously. "Not misplaced . . . simply . . . unexpected." His tail gave another swish, and he pondered his choices. "I go wherever my hooves take me. At present, I suppose that's here." That could change at any given moment but maybe for awhile he'd stay.
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Posted: Sun Apr 26, 2015 7:27 pm
There were any number of responses he could have made to the stallion. 'I go where my hooves take me' indeed. Of course. That was surely why the stallion lingered within his lands. Tom quirked a brow at the other, reading what he could in the stallion's words, posture, and expression. "Do you, now? Then choose to be where you are... for the time being." For surely the black stallion would heed him. "After all, it has been some time." Some time indeed since the last... encounter of theirs. He had certainly learned quite a bit about the other at that time. Chandar could not abide kindness from others. That Tom's cruelty seemed to comfort the stallion was a bit of a source of droll amusement from him.
His subtle, biting nature seemed to lull his foalhood companion into a sort of ease that he unlikely experienced elsewhere. It was certainly useful. More, Tom was glad of it, for it meant that he would not soon find himself without such companionship. Though he was loathe to admit it, it was... dull... to muse over one's plans alone. "Indeed. I doubt that you would expect it. Yet here we are."
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Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2015 12:02 pm
Chandar found himself in a peculiar place, unsure how he was supposed to act, and certainly unsure of how he was to reply. His blue eyes narrowed in defensiveness, and his tail gave another swish as he regarded Tom. What was this stallion's angle? What was it that Tom wished of him? More importantly -- and privately -- what did Chandar wish of himself? The fact that the white coated stallion had called out his lingering on foreign lands didn't sit well with him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and he was considering leaving for awhile simply to prove that he could. There was nothing that he needed here, nothing that he really gave reason to linger. . . except, perhaps, Tom himself. Chandar might hate company, but Tom was almost bearable. The two of them had tentatively gotten along, and a small sliver of Chandar could appreciate the other.
Still. . . There was something dangerous about the stallion, and Chandar knew he had to step lightly around him. There was no telling what might happen as time drew on; no telling when they might grow bored of one another. These were Tom's lands, after all, and Chandar might find himself suddenly turned on or driven out. Best to keep his guard up . . . best to treat Tom like he would anyone.
Chandar gave a small grunt in response, unwilling to say anything more to the other about where his hooves might or might not take him. "Here we are, indeed," he finally spoke, his gaze never leaving that of his red-eyed companion. "What brings you here, anyway? Just checking on your lingering guest, or did you need something?" Now that Tom knew Chandar he was lingering, he wondered if Tom, too, would stay. They had been years apart since their foalhood days, and there was much catching up to do. Maybe. If either of them felt like it.
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Posted: Mon May 18, 2015 8:59 am
"Need," Tom said, quirking a brow upward, his lip twisting ever so slightly, "is not the proper word for it. One does not need companionship. One wants companionship." He did not, after all, need anyone. He was no weak willed stallion. No, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a loner, always had been... save for a few scattered moments as a colt. He was powerful, yes. Growing in power. He would have what he wanted, and that was simply that. "And what I want, right now, is for you to tell me that you're going to stay."
He knew Chandar, too. Knew that Chandar would likely tell him no just to be contrary. Just to assert his independence. Still, they had shared a moment or two. Perhaps that would weigh with the stallion. "What do you need, Chandar?" That was something that he never had quite figured out, which bothered him immensely. Soquili were easy to read, for the most part. Chandar should have been the same. What was clouding his vision?
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Posted: Thu May 21, 2015 3:11 pm
Chandar was genuinely surprised to hear the words fall from the others lips. Tell him he's going to stay?? Blue eyes almost widened, but instead, his frown deepened, and he regarded the other with even more genuine suspicion than he had before. What was this other playing at? Chandar almost felt his lip curl into a moody growl, almost wanted to tell the other to back off and leave him be. He didn't like the way this game was being played, and a small part of the stallion was wallowing in the despair of such a trick. There were some parts that needed to remain secret, and he feared Tom may have found out.
b*****d.
Still . . . even if he were being mocked, there was the possibility that Tom really did desire him to stay. Even if that was simply to share another moment or two, to enjoy what the other brought to these lands. He certainly had not forgotten their previous re-acquaintance. That had been nice. "I might stay for a time," he finally confessed, giving a small snort and shake of his mane. "Your lands are quiet enough for my tastes." Quiet and . . . maybe . . . safe.
Ah, but that was dangerous thinking. If he were wanting to stay, than maybe he'd need retreat quickly. He didn't trust himself around the white stallion, and knew he'd soon be in over his head if he wasn't careful.
When the red-eyed male asked what he needed, Chandar gave a shrug. "What I need is none of your business. But I'll take some company while I'm here." So the stallion did take a step forward, alert, but his intentions clear. He still didn't trust Tom's desire for him to stay -- for how long, and for what purposes he knew not -- but he . . . he would stay for another night or two. Wanted to stay.
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 1:39 pm
Perhaps what he desired lay in front of him. ... This could be useful. If he were to be truthful, they both knew precisely how the other felt. Yet neither wished to confess. Tom had never been known as a bold stallion. He preferred subtlety to bravery and it irked him to have to come forward. Dragging the truth from Chandar's lips, however, would undoubtedly prove unsuccessful. So a bold step he must take.
"Why Chandar, you surprise me... " he said, leaning forward slightly. "You think to remain for only a little while? Forever. I want you to stay forever." Once said, it could not be unsaid. Done, it could not be undone. For better or for worse, the truth hung between them expectantly, awaiting the black and green stallion's reply. The gloves were off and he would see what came of it.
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Posted: Thu Oct 22, 2015 12:57 pm
Chandar's blue eyes went wide as soon as Tom confessed his desire. He couldn't possibly hide his surprise. . . not when he had heard the unexpected! So it was, for a long moment, Chandar tried to process what had been said . . . Did Tom really want him to stay forever? Or was this some trick? It wasn't always easy to tell. . . and Chandar wasn't sure he could handle Tom being so cruel if it were.
Still, the black coated stallion was quick to recompose himself. His surprise turned into a scowl, and he let his long tail gave a few shakes. Pawing at the ground, Chandar considered his reply. " . . .I'll stay as long as I choose to stay," he gruffed, ever defensive. Still, there was a different tone in his words -- some foreign sound that might have been akin to joy, or pleasure. It took off the sharpness of his words, though his mimicry was superb.
"But I'll stay for now." For always. Forever.
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