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Male's name: Itukansan; 'Weasel' in Lakota. [['Itukansan the Great' on his cert.]]
Male's personality and/or brief bio: Itu' is a very, very egotistical male, that only being fueled even more by his superior position as leader of a gang of stallions. Being praised by his fellow males has given him a quite a high opinion of himself, and he believes that, for sure, he's one of the best fighters out there.. but the truth is far from that. Tall tales and rumors about his 'greatness' have given him a swollen head, messing with his head and making him believe that he's one of the best, but, in fact, Itukansan is just a normal old stallion. His theory of males being above females both physically and mentally is really the only thing that's keeping him up living the good life in his little group, since he's imprinting the theory into others heads and has lied his way into making them think he's going to lead them all into a new era where females serve and love them to bits.. He's quite the little liar. >-> Seeing that the small group of females in the area weren't going to give into his group's mindset, he declared a war between the two groups and was determined and positive that the males would conquer the ladies and take the land they resided in. Hearing that the female's party were called the Night Wings, he dubbed his group 'The Crimson Wings', and copied their traditional way of painting themselves and decorating their bodies. This.. has only made the leader of the girls even more intent on beating him to a pulp.

Female's name: Iktomi; 'Spider' in Lakota. [['The Cunning Iktomi' on her cert.]]
Female's personality and/or brief bio: 'Tomi could be seen as almost the exact opposite as Itukansan, she actually being the daughter in a line of warriors known in the remote area they reside in out in the Plains. She's actually earned her rank as war chief of the group of 'almost Amazonians', training and working herself to the point where she's become a skilled warrior that would make her descendants proud. Iktomi takes things seriously, especially when it comes to tradition and customs, those who take it lightly receiving quite the beating from her. Her thoughts on Itukansan were once fair, having thought that he was a warrior as skilled as she and that a fight between the two would be a test. Now, because of the silly rumors about him, such as an outrageous one that had stated that he had the blood of Gods running through him, as well as the tale of him taking down five angered bison all at once, and things like that have changed her views of Itu' the Great. The fact that he's also stolen their traditional way of painting themselves and adorning their manes and pelts with items before battle and that he's warped her party's name into his group's own has ticked her off to the point where she's willing to take on his declaration of battle, only to push her way through and take him down to teach him a lesson. She's held herself back for far too long, and now's the time to take action and knock this fake excuse for a leader down off his throne. Despite all of this, Iktomi is usually calm and even teasing at times, but becomes impatient when others dawdle and don't get straight to the point of things.

Your tale:

Day of Battle!.. Right?

"We Crimson Wings are far superior, clearly! Aren't we now, men?!" Sudden outcries and loud shouts of 'Aye!' and 'Yes!' were called out in agreement with the statement, the owner of the first voice being a young stallion, leadership given to him and him only on the odd field of battle. On one side, a mass of assorted males, different in appearance to each other but all with the same red colored bird painted onto each. The other, a sorry excuse for an army of females, with identical bird markings etched into their skin temporarily. And they were with no leader in sight! Itukansan let out a slight smirk at the results, giving a quick shake of his head, the weather matted and decorated mess of a mane about his face flying uncoordinatedly before resting in their ever changing entanglement. This was a little.. unsatisfying. This was supposed to be an epic battle, the war to end all wars between the two groups! But apparently, the ladies superior hadn't received the message. "Hmph.. Typical female." He muttered with an annoyed huff, ears flicking back and head swinging to look to the north. Scanning the area, Itu' saw the expected war party of females, all the colors under the sun displayed on the group of individuals pelts, but not the wanted coat of light peach coloring. His smirk morphed into a pearl colored gritting of teeth as he lashed a front hoof out, scuffing at the ground in his growing impatience. Where was this leader of theirs?! Surely they weren't expecting him to waltz right into their territory with his men and round them up like mindless cattle now, were they? No. Itukansan the Great would never do something as mindless and unplanned out as that! A glance to the left.. then the right.. and still no sight of the other army's 'outstandingly amazing' leader.

'"Gods, sir, she was.. was swift as a hawk and just.. just... her sudden appearance from out of no where was flawless! Then her attack.. just about quick as a whistle. Hope I'm not speaking too out of term here, sir, but she was just outstanding! Why, she might be more cunning than you, s-"

"What?!"

"Ah! Sorry, sir!"'

"Nn.." Both annoyance and impatience grew even more so at his thoughts of a previous chat with one of his soldiers the day before. 'That's damned well it.' Whipping his head around with an almost dog-like growl, Itu' came face to face with one of his men. "Watch those Night Wings." A surprised snort came from the soldier at the sudden meeting with his leader, the male's eyes widening during the startling moment before he regained his composure and gave a curt nod of his head to Itu'. Without another word, the decorated leader turned away, making his way into the nearby patch of trees and shrubs to search for the gaggle of female's 'mother'. "Where are you, girly?! Afraid to take on a man? Scared that I'll knock ya down?!" Quite the noisy warrior he was, barking out insults and attempting to egg Iktomi the Cunning out from hiding.

"What are you, sc-Uff!"

A simple trap had been set. A clever trigger, a hidden switch, and not all that complicated at all. One of Itu's front legs had stepped into the crudely made loop of string that was a snare, the trap taken and used by Iktomi. Why let a brilliant little thing like that, made by the Two-Leggers, go to waste with no one using it? Ah, recycling~

All she had to do was wind one end around a properly sized stick or jutting rock, then lay it out and wait... Ta da! Down the beast went in an instant, it being Itukansan the Great this time, he sprawled on his back with a stunned and confused look on his face.

"Hm." Blue eyes peered out from the curled locks of a hunter, a rather permanent frown planted on her face. Stepping out from behind a scrawny tree, the mare made her way over to the fallen stallion, quirking a brow and giving a flick of her ears forward. "You must be that Itukansan fellow, correct?" Iktomi gave a move of her eyes, casting her gaze over his fallen form before turning them back to stare at the face of the male.. still with the same stunned look. "Yes or no, it's quite the simple little question."

"Wha-..I-.. Yes, I'm him, girl!" He cried out with a sudden change of face, brows turning down into a glare and mouth into an annoyed pout of his lips.

"I don't think anyone could have told that, by the way you've delivered yourself." She stated with a slight toss of her muzzle, feathers and piercings near and in her ears giving a soft scuffling noise against her mane. "Itukansan, huh? Get up. I want to face you, like the man you say you are. Itu', get up." No hesitation and straight to the point was her way. 'Tomi reached out and gave a tap at one of his hind hooves with her own, the frown remaining plastered across her maw as she stepped to his side.

"Don't call me that, female! I'm Itukansan the Great!" The stallion nearly snarled out, eyes slitting before he thrashed in his attempt of escaping.. which only tightened the snare around his leg. "Get me out of this damn thing! I need to go and get face to face with your leader, the supposedly cunning Iktomi! I have no time for you, silly girly." A frustrated whinny came out from him as he thrashed about even more.

Softly, Iktomi let out a snort. So, her thoughts on the male war party's leader were right. He was a fake, totally pathetic. A sorry excuse for a war chief. Letting out a sigh through her nostrils, she stepped around him and went to his ensnared leg, grunting at him in a demand for him to still himself before she removed the rope with a quick pull with her teeth. An amazed and intrigued nicker came out from the fallen and quieted Itukansan. Giving a flick of her head, she tossed the loop up, giving a quick rise of the front of her body to make sure it landed about her head, before bringing herself back down and looking at Itu'. Her frown had dissapeared, and slowly, she made her way over to the now standing, quieted, and recovering stallion. Suddenly, she let out a cry, shoving at his side with her shoulder forcefully and striking at his hind legs with her front hooves. "You damned fool! I'm The Cunning Iktomi!"

This caught Itukansan the Great totally off guard.

"How dare you steal our ways! How dare you warp our well earned name into your own! You disrespectful.. you swollen headed weasel of a Soquili!" For each of her words, 'Tomi stabbed at the male's legs, bruising his ego and knocking him off his high horse.

...Moments later, after Iktomi had calmed herself, and Itukansan had risen up from the ground, legs shaking and eyes wide, the two made up.. awkwardly. After all, they had been enemies for so long, and this was just a very odd situation. Stubbornly, the beaten stallion apologized, then asking for the skilled warrior to run off with him, to go out and make a new name for themselves, as one of the greatest warrior duos out there. Itukansan the Great and The Cunning Iktomi, out facing enemies and showing everyone who was on top. She could work him into a fine warrior, so then the rumors and lies he had spoken would be true!

...The mare answered with a soft and shaken sounding yes, following after the male quietly through the trees and past the confused looking Crimson Wings and Night Wings. Maybe she was still recovering from the little explosion of flying hoof she'd been holding in for so long?.. But it was done. They were a team, and leaving everything behind.

Male's name: Valyrn
Male's personality and/or brief bio: Within Story

Female's name: Galibrin
Female's personality and/or brief bio: Within Story

Your tale:

Lighting flashed, hoofs pounded against the muddy ground. The icy touch of the torrents of rain pelted against the darkly toned stallion. Darkness was eminent, the blank void of nearly any color around him made it hard to see, his perception thrown off. Nothing could stop him though. Not now, not ever. The thunder and lighting doing little to scare him; did little to stop him from reaching his goal destination. Nothing at all could stop him from getting revenge for his fallen partner.

Another lighting bolt flashed against the sky and the rain and mud became even thicker, coating his hooves and feathers. His war paint was already starting to run down his sides. But yet it did not slow him down; did not stop him. Honestly it could not, his drive was so great. Many a time did he almost fall; almost break his legs from the slippery ground. But yet he did not and he continued to charge forward.

‘How dare they,’ he thought with vengeance, ‘how dare they kill her. They had no right, no right at all. How dare they.’

Onward he went, pushing against the harshest of winds, pushing against the beings that killed Galibrin, his partner, his life. Without her he was alone again. She was the one to look past his rather forceful nature. She was the one to go straight to the source and not mind his awkward kindness. Galibrin was the only one to ever fully accept him for him despite the fact of being in an opposing tribe. She left her tribe for him, left the only life she ever really knew. She was just so….down to earth. Never did she beat around the bush. Galibrin opted for just the plain truth…and he loved her for that.

Howling could be heard in the distance and he knew he was starting to come close. His muscles spazzed, contracted, and elongated. His gait increased with every stride of his already long legs. Memories of her smile, kindness, and teasing assaulted his senses. The day they received their first war paint seemed to be the most prominent in his mind. His snort almost seemed like a forced chuckle. At first he remembered that she wasn’t really one for getting dirty. But to watch her get painted with the delicate strokes of his human’s paint brush was enough to get him hooked, to become a protective stallion for what he cared for. Never before then had he ever felt that way.

He wasn’t one for traveling with others but she changed that. Just thinking about her made him growl lowly under his breath.

‘Don’t worry Galibrin. I’ll avenge your death. They won’t get away from me. No matter how far they may run. No matter how long they may avoid confrontation, I will find them. I will pay them back in kind,’ he spoke to her in his head. ‘Just stay with me, guide me. Show me the way you want me to go.’

One more lightning flash and he was looking upon a sharp and steep cliff coming into his line of vision. The gap to the other side was long enough that he might not make it. But yet he could not falter, not now. He wouldn’t let himself. He couldn’t fail now that he was coming closer to his revenge. Eyes determined and blazing he pushed his muscles even further if that was possible, if he was sweating he did not notice nor did he even care. He had a goal, a single goal, and by damn he was going to finish that goal.

With a powerful spring he flew over the cliff, his mane and tail flying behind him drenching wet with the raging storm. His conviction matched this storm. The lightning matched the blaze of fire in his eyes. The thunder matched the pounding of his hooves. The rain matched the endless drive of his muscles to carry him to his destination. Another howl, this time closer, and the stallion’s anger and pride in himself and his conviction grew.

He, Valyrn, would avenge Galibrin’s death. Even if it meant his own death in the process. Which, upon reaching the other side of a slippery hill and seeing the humans and enemy Soquili and familiars, he knew it might happen. But yet he didn’t care. He would avenge his partner’s death. He would do anything to get back at those who killed her. And upon rearing, throwing back his strong neck and head, and whinnying loudly, oh so loudly that it echoed through out the area and nearly drowned out the thunder and lightning, charged downwards towards the quickly advancing enemy.

‘This is for you Galibrin. My heart, my pride, my joy,....and my love...’

((Sorry it's rather long. ^^; I kinda got carried away. I would love to work more on the backstory to this though now.))

Male's name: Kajika (walks without sound)
Male's personality and/or brief bio: In story

Female's name: Miakoda (power of the moon)
Female's personality and/or brief bio: In story

Your tale: It had been long ago, before even the oldest of creatures could remember, when war had plagued the lands. The meadows that now flourished with life were once filled with the crimson stain of death. The skies that are now clear and joyful once reflected the red of spilled blood, casting gloom throughout the lands. No one knows why the war had started, though it is told that a father and daughter were once the rulers of a large, war mongering tribe. This is their tale.

Miakoda watched as the sun set, her eyes filled with sorrow. Her thoughts were heavy as she thought of the past, how very different it was. When her mother was alive, the tribe had never been in war. They had been peaceful with everyone, never fighting over land. She knew that her mother would be horrified now if she saw the state of their home. The grass was stained with blood, there were bodies everywhere. Miakoda closed her eyes, sighing heavily as she turned and walked back to her home.

Kajika, the young mare's father, was readying his soldiers for war once again. The group of strong young stallions listened intently as he paced in front of them, giving one of his famous speeches. "These disgusting Minninnewah horses have slain your queen!" He shouted, snorting, "They are the reason she is gone from this world! They have always been our enemies! My lovely mate was foolish to trust them, but it was only because she had such a big heart! And they took advantage of that, but we will get them back! Her death will not be in vain, when we kill every last one! Do not have mercy! Do not take pity, for they will take no pity on you! Send them to whatever God they worship!"

The crowd cheered and ran off into the battlefield, as Miakoda watched with her heart breaking. So much killing, so much senseless killing.

"Mia." She turned as she heard her name, seeing her father behind her. He smiled at her and stood beside her, standing over a foot above her. "They are quite a sight, aren't they." He said, assuming she was admiring the soldiers as they charged into battle. "I will join them now, but I wanted to see how you are." She looked into his eyes, those eyes that used to hold such tender love and care, and now were just hollow and cold. "I am full of heartbreak, Father." She said softly, looking away. He thought it was because of her mothers death, and he nuzzled her gently. "We will have our revenge, my daughter. This day your mothers soul will be at peace!" He then stormed off, his hooves pounding the ground like war drums as he charged into the battle.

Mia watched him go, shaking her head. Only she knew that her mother had not died from the Minninnewah tribe. They had always been friends, always. No one believed her though, since her father was the Chief and told them all that she had been murdered. In truth, she had become gravely ill after Mia's birth and had died from that illness.

Mia angrily ran towards the grove of trees that her father and her called home, slowing to a walk as she spotted the berries that he used to paint himself with the chiefs designs. Mia gazed at it for a few moments, then her eyes grew wider and she trotted over to it. She had gotten an idea.

Kajika was doing what he did best; killing. He was mad with rage and had convinced himself that it was this tribes fault. As they breached the Minninnewah's forces, they entered the lands of them, and he began mercilessly killing foals and mares. His troops were so caught up in the lust of war that they asked no questions and began doing the same.

Mia ran through the lands, now painted with the chiefs markings. She had painted them exactly as her mother had worn her paint, and she was the mirror image of her deceased parent, just as she had wanted.

Kajika looked up when he heard a whinny on the hills. In the dim light of night he saw the mare on the hilltop, wearing the same paint his love had warn, and his legs began to shake as he thought he was seeing the spirit of his mate. "Na.... Namid...? Is that really you...?" He whispered, and the female on the hill reared before speaking. "Stop this madness!" She shouted, her powerful voice carrying over the wind. Kajika fell to his knees, that was her! It was really his lost love! "Do you really think this will avenge my death?! How can killing avenge the death of a peaceful soul?! You have disappointed me, Kajika! You, of all souls, should know better! If you do not stop this war mongering I will never allow any of you to pass into the next world! You will be thrown into isolation, wandering alone for eternity! Heed my words, leave this life behind and return to the light!" She reared once more, then turned and ran into the night.

Kajika stood, legs still trembling. He looked to his troops, who were all as shaken up as himself. They looked at the carnage around them, and began to run. They ran as fast as their hooves could carry them, and Kajika watched as they did. He looked around, at the bodies of the mares and foals and stallions that he had slain. He was filled with sorrow and shame, but he didn't run. He faced what he had done and he began to pray for every soul there, walking slowly around the land and stopping at each body.

Miakoda washed the paint from her coat, listening as the soldiers returned, muttering about Namid returning from the den. When they saw her they began to excitedly tell her what happened and she pretended to know nothing of it, but inside she was smiling and her soul was at ease as she knew her mother was smiling down upon her from the heavens.

Male's name: Takeshi
Male's personality and/or brief bio: Close friends with Kumari, but yet also loves her and wishes to be more, Determined

Female's name: Kumari
Female's personality and/or brief bio: Strong, focuses on whatever task lies at hand. Close friends with Takeshi.

Your tale:

The sun was shining brightly as the mare laughed gently as he nuzzled her affectionately. They were close, she and he, so close they were almost mates. But then the image flashes forward to the bloodshed that was happening amongst the two-leggers they lived with. These two-leggers were at war with others, for land and resources. His loving nature was taken over by his will to protect these two-leggers that he thought of as family. It tore at him to see the mare not wanting to be close to him anymore, wanting to be nothing more than friends, but they had jobs to do.

Now they were in a field, making their way back with supplies for the two-leggers, when they spotted the winged demons attacking something. They heard high pitched screaming, and knew at that moment that was no normal prey for a kalona. So they abandoned their supplies and ran towards the attacking kalonas. A group of young two-legger children were trying to defend themselves against these winged beasts. Time went by as they finally drove away the kalonas, and offered their forgotten supplies to the children.

“We should protect these children. They probably have no more family amongst the warring two-leggers.” He said to her, and she agreed. With this new assignment, she further pushed him away, and he longed for the closeness they used to have.

The sound of laughter broke Takeshi’s thoughts as a few of the two-legger children ran by, covered in the war paint that was being applied to himself and Kumari. Some of the older children had managed to turn up with beads, feathers, and paint during their scavenging. A couple of the children had taken the beads and feathers and were braiding them into the manes and tails of both mare and stallion, while others were painting them with the war paint.

“Kumari, do you know that you are the most beautiful around?” he asked, a smile upon his face. Even when she was covered in war paint and looking fierce, he still found her to be beautiful, but to his dismay she glared at him and turned away, making it clear that she was annoyed by his comment. Takeshi sighed quietly as he continued to watch her. The children by this point were done braiding and painting, and had taken to playing their games. Kumari, he knew was to focused on their duty of protecting these children to even want to do anything that involved loving, but it still hurt him inside.

A whistling noise shot through the air, followed by another, and soon the children were screaming and running. Takeshi bolted around to see where these arrows were coming from, and saw the enemy two-leggers coming towards them. He quickly gathered up the straggling children and sent them running, while he and Kumari turned and kept the attackers at bay. His eyes landed on the bodies of three young children, and his heart cried out at the loss. They were supposed to be protecting them!

The attackers soon fled from the two warriors, which left them free to catch up to the children. As they ran Takeshi could feel Kumari’s anger radiating from her, and it wasn’t long before she began telling him what she thought. “This was all your fault Takeshi! The death of those young ones is all on you! If you hadn’t been fawning after me and keeping guard like you were suppose to none of them would have died. None of them. Your love is killing them!”

Takeshi knew that she was right in every way. His heart was heavy as they ran to catch up with the children. How could her just forget his love for Kumari? But if he didn’t, it could cause more of the children to die if he wasn’t paying attention. Love or life? Which one was worth more? This was his dilemma as they reached the young two-leggers.

Male's name: Dominae
Male's personality and/or brief bio: Dominae is the prince of the Sahmshiir herd, a band of emotionally-charged Soquili who thrive off of physical touch. Domi is calm, but emotional, with a frequent temper when things don't exactly go his way. He comes up with hairbrained schemes, which usually turn out for the best, to his surprise. He wishes with every pore of his soul that the wars between the two herds and the needless bloodshed will come to an end.

Female's name: Shibarii
Female's personality and/or brief bio: Shibarii's the only remaining heir to the Kurokoda herd. The Soquili in this tribe are unusually tight-lipped when it comes to emotion and only touch one another when it's necessary. Shiba is cool and collected, rejects emotions, as that's how she's been raised, but has an underlying fear which spurs her decisions. She's stubborn and proud.

Your tale:

She stood against the wind, mane rippling over her back, swirling into her face. Blood. The air reeked of the metallic smell, burning her nostrils and she could taste it, oh, how she could taste it. All around her were the corpses of her fallen tribe and slain bodies of their enemies. They oozed blood and wept sweat. Paint covered their hides, war-paint that showed them as messengers of battle. Black and orange paint for Kurokoda, blood-crimson and white for Sahmshiir.

This war... She took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering gasp. She had lost so many... This war would be the end of her... She lifted a hoof, turning back for Kurokoda when something tickled her ears. She froze, heart racing into her throat.

"H-H-Hello?" There, faint against the blowing of the cool autumn breeze, was a voice. A soft, pain-filled voice. Young...

Shibarii's blue gaze scrambled over the earth, resting on one of the fallen. His pelt was soaked with blood, but the paint and his dark, dark coat proved his heritage. A silver-tongued Sahmshiir...and the feathers adorning his mane told her that he was of royal bloodlines. Despite that fact, her breath caught in her throat, a sob rising up, hysterical and sorrowful. She dropped to her knees beside the broken enemy, his body tattered and torn. He couldn't be more than a yearling...

His dark eyes were pleading and his lips moved, but no sound came out. "Pl-Please... End it..." he begged, dropping his uplifted head back to the earth. His entire being gave a shudder and tears sprang to the tawny mare's eyes. She blinked them back. She was a soldier first, a princess second, and neither of those things cried.

"I can't." He looked away with a nod, saying nothing more. She found words come to the surface, a tale of her past that she could no longer keep down and she began to talk. No doubt her words were nothing more than soft murmurs to the boy whose life was fading away. All at once, his body lurched, giving one final heave before falling lifeless and still and "I'm sorry..." Shibarii said.

Another life, lost. Lost to this damned war... She pulled herself to her hooves, looking into the sky. "Why isn't there a way to escape our Fate?" she cried to the heavens, praying someone would hear her.

And there, in the shadows, watching her like a tiger stalked its prey, someone did indeed hear her.

xxx

"Check for survivors."

Dominae looked up at the Elder, his dark coat grizzled and graying, bones jutting out in the oddest placest. He raised a lip at the order, as he was the true heir to the throne, but he said nothing. It wasn't for certain yet that Mother was dead... Until then, he could do absolutely nothing. But he knew what he would do. He would stop this war that was killing everyone he held dear. He would go to any length, any length at all...

He struck out, his coat dappled and streaked with the paint of a Sahmshiir warrior. The feathers braided into his hair weren't just for show, but the proof that he was one of the last remaining sons of Kaicaydenn. One of the last of the royal line. Only he and Liafur were left and Liafur was missing...

So he moved amongst the dead, stepping around them, over them, through them -- whatever it took to get from point A to point B. Sorrow panged at his heart as he caught sight of fallen friends and past lovers, but he forced himself to swallow it down, to keep moving. A prince couldn't cry. It was, indeed, unprincely.

He found his mother first. Kaicaydenn's neck was twisted at an unbearable angle. Her coal-black pelt glittered with paint and blood mixed together and he rested his muzzle upon hers, finding her already cool to the touch. His heart hung heavy in his chest. "I'm so sorry, Mother," he whispered.

It was then that he heard the talking. Soft, melodious words spoken at such a low decibel. Perhaps the mindless chatter of a dying mare? He moved silently through the woods, catching sight of them together: his brother, Liafur, bloodstained and battered, lying motionless on the ground and kneeling over him, a mare with the paint of the enemy, talking to him. Talking him into the Otherworld... His lips rose in a silent snarl and he stepped forward, just as she threw her head back to the sky and cried out.

"Why isn't there a way to escape our Fate?"

And slowly, a smile worked its way onto Dominae's lips.

There was a way to escape the deaths. There was a way... He knew there was. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward. She didn't hear him at first, so he struck at the ground with a hoof. She startled, spinning to greet him, teeth bared and ears flat. "Silver-tongue... Here to finish me off?" She took a few steps backwards.

He smirked. What a spitfire... "Hardly. I...heard your plea to the gods, if there are such a thing. Perhaps you would like to stop this needless battle?"

Her blue eyes widened as they shot to the feathers in his hair. "You... You are..."

"Lord Dominae of Sahmshiir, yes," he murmured. He looked her over. Underneath the war paint and splattered blood, was the buckskin pelt of a Kurokoda mare, but it was the necklace that gave her away. A blue-stoned arrowhead was rumored to've been passed down in the generations of royalty. This mare, this knobby-kneed little warrior, was also an heir. Lady Shibarii... Which made them just about even. "How would you like to raise your children in peace?" He moved forward, brushing against her. She flinched and looked down. "How would you like to never smell that acrid stench of blood again?"

"I..."

"I have the answers," Domi whispered hoarsely, heaving a great sigh. "It is up to you if you want to hear them or not..."

She looked uncertain and wary, her eyes tired and listless, yet the smile that lit up her face was so beautiful that it made his heart clench. His plan... It had to work... "I'd like to know..." she said softly. He saw tears brimming there and he wanted to brush them away. He reached for her, but she shied back. He didn't push the issue. She would come around, with time...

"I..." He paused, looking her over. Was he up for this? His heart raced. Yes... He had to be. "I would like to take you as my mate." It wasn't until after he spoke that he realized he sounded a bit too hopeful. "I'd like our herds to be one..."

She iced over, as if she'd been shoved. Flattening her ears, she spun away. "No." The word was bitten out and cold.

"Wait! Shibarii, wait!" He rushed after her, scrambling to stop her. She snarled at him. "Please. Just... Just trust me. This could work... We'd make it work, you and me and we'd never lose another friend or another brother in these stupid, stupid battles. Please... Consider it..."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I haven't killed you yet, have I?"

"Perhaps you're biding your time."

His eyes flashed. "Perhaps I've lost one too many loved ones in this damn war. Perhaps my heart is tired. It's time to move on, Shibarii... My plan will work. I can feel it in my bones. I just...I just need your cooperation!"

"I'll never love you..." Her words were soft now. "Ever..."

He forced a smile upon his face. That would have to work. "That's fine. That's acceptable... All I need is your word. Your word that you want peace just as much as I do. We'll make it work... I promise..."

"And if we fail?"

Dominae smiled a hard smile. "We aren't destined to fail," he said and then, "What do you say?"

Shibarii stared at him for many minutes, her body tense, her tail flicking irritably back and forth. He watched her as she mulled over the idea, over and over in her pretty little head. After what seemed like an eternity, she took a breath and let it out. "You believe in Destiny?"

"Yes. Are you gonna help me now?"

Her eyes softened and she let out a small laugh. "Why not..."

Male's name: Istaqa Kuruk
Male's personality and/or brief bio: fierce / Istaqa Karuk was born into a warrior family, and trained as a foal to become a warrior. His father was killed during a raid by skinwalkers when he was a foal. He was born the same day as Tolinka Pauwau and made fun of her for her magic as a foal, until she saved him from the skinwakers with her first vision. He blamed her for not saving his father for a long time, but eventually forgave her.

Female's name: Tolinka Pauwau
Female's personality and/or brief bio: theurgic / Tolinka Pauwua was born with the cowl still over her face, a sign that she would have mystic abilities. Even though she was trained as a mystic, she joined the ranks as a warrior. She was born the same day as Istaqa Karuk and admired his ferocity, even though he teased her about training to be a mystic. When her first vision came upon her, she managed to save a few of the foals and those watching them from the raiding skinwalkers. Since the raid, she'd grown up wanting to be a warrior and stand equal to her childhood friend.

Your tale:

"The trail is growing cold, mystic," Istaqa Karuk growled quietly, searching the ground for signs where their quarry had gone. He and his companion had been hunting the skinwalkers for hours, and it wouldn't be long before the raiders killed the foal they'd taken. He has a feeling it was a trap to lure in more prey, but the beasts didn't know that one of the warriors chasing them had visons and could sense them.

Tolinka Puawau glared at the stallion, her blue eyes narrowing. She glanced at the setting sun, then back to the ground. "I'm aware. The closing darkness will give them more an edge, making it harder to pick up their trail."

The mare searched the ground, trying to find a sign of the two skinwalkers that had interrupted her warrior ceremony. Hours ago she'd been happy, wearing the ceremonial paint of a warrior. Her highest moment ruined by the cruelty of two monsters, her dream wrecked. They warriors has split in the pairs to track the skinwalkers, still wearing their ceremonial paint. Tolinka Pauwau had been lucky enough to be paired with her childhood friend...though at the moment, it wasn't helping.

The mystic's thoughts were interrupted by the stallion's sudden growl. She turned to see what he was glaring at. On the ground was a small dreamcatcher, there were dark drops on it that could only be blood. She walked over and gently laid the tip of her hoof on it, seeing what she could pick up from it. He blue eyes glazed over with the visions flashing in her mind's eye. "He's barely alive...they're having their fun, they'll leave him soon. A cave...not far from here."

"Let's go," Istaqa Karuk replied gruffly, stalking into the bushes. He could see the dark droplets here and there, glinting slightly in the sunset. Following the trail, he could hear Tolinka Pauwau behind him. He hoped they could find the foal and save him with out much a fight. Skinwalkers were nasty business, and the results of tangling with them would not go well. "Maybe we can catch them off guard."

"We should be so lucky, old friend," the mare muttered quietly, moving to stand beside the stallion. "The cave is just ahead. They've already gone. They got what they wanted. We should be quiet in case they're still near by. They'd be able to trap us in the cave."

"Worth the risk. We need to bring the foal back if possible," he grunted, moving quietly forward. His hooves made only the slightest sound on the ground, inching slowly toward the darkness of the cave. There was blood on the ground, and he could barely make out a leg sticking out from the opening.

Tolinka Pauwua moved and nudged Istaqa Karuk's rump, "Wait. There's too much blood here."

She glanced around the clearing in front of the cave, taking note of markings and letting the images float through her mind. She sighed sadly, walking past her friend to the cave and looked in. "They've moved on far from here. The beasts had their meal and their fun."

The stallion stepped up and also looked down at the still pieces of what should have been the foal. "There's not much left to take back. This doesn't bode well for our tribe."

"We should take the dreamcatcher back at least, so his father can have it," the mystic said softly, turning to retrieve the item they'd left in the bushes. "We'll need to return to tell the tribe."

Istaqa Karuk nodded, turning away from the sight to follow his companion. The foal, the chief's foal...dead. He knew the pain of losing someone to the skinwalkers, and he knew the rage their chief would feel would only lead to more pain. There'd been many years since he'd been a foal, and they'd been filled with peace. He glanced at the mare as she stopped to pick up the dreamcatcher. Her warrior ceremony had indeed made her a warrior. After this night, there'd be a call for war.

The two traveled back to their village to face their tribe, their chief. Blame would be cast, rage and agony would cry out, and the beasts would be laughing in the distance.

Male's name: Thryth (means power)

Male's personality and/or brief bio: Thryth is steady as a stream and full of all the depth and mystery of a river. He has a cool head and is a stallion of few words. He won't waste time on those with nothing of value to say.

Female's name: Hild (means battle)

Female's personality and/or brief bio: Wild as a storm and unpredictable as the winds, Hild is the embodiment of Chaos. She has a sharp wit and is quick to anger. Still, she is a loyal ally and always willing to go to battle.

Your tale:

He heard the drums. The rhythmic song thundered through the dark stallion's heart as he stood atop the hill overlooking the vast valley below. He wondered what purpose this impending battle would serve - for surely with the beating of the drums came war. It wouldn't matter, of course, whatever the cause. The politics of two-leggers were often beyond the intelligent and reasoning stallion. Still, to war he would go and if required of him, he would lay his life down among the broken bodies and blood of the fallen on the field. He would always owe the two-leggers that much for sheltering him when he was young and weak. They had saved him from a terrible fate, and he would do the same in kind.

"There'll be battle 'for the night comes," came a voice from behind. Thryth didn't have to turn to know from whom came those eager words. She came up beside him and he was surprised to see her already painted up for battle. Curious, as the enemies had not yet crested the hill on the other side of valley. The drums were still faint and far away. She gave him a crooked grin, winking at him as he regarded her. He thought her more lovely without the war paint, but still he had to admit she was a beautiful warrior.

"Not too soon before, " he commented as he looked back out over the valley. "They're likely about half a days march off at least." His voice was even and calm, unlike his eager counterpart. He did not enjoy battle. He preferred diplomacy, but he was nonetheless a fierce and formidable warrior.

"We'll taste blood 'for then," Hild assured him and he wondered vaguely if she held any information he was unaware of. The sun was only just rising over the horizon and unless the opposing two-leggers had gained wings -highly unlikely- they would not crest the hill even before noon. It was still a long march from there to where he now stood and a smart army would do some resting. He expected them to attack no later than early evening. He looked back to Hild curiously. She was ever the enigma to him, wild and unpredictable.

He eyed her, wondering what she was getting at. She let her face soften, cocking an eyebrow at him suggestively. She sidled up next to him, brushing against his flank gently. His eyes narrowed, seeing through her charms. He suddenly knew what was coming and as she fluttered her lashes up at him he openly laughed - a rare thing for the solemn stallion. Her wicked grin returned as she looked out across the valley in anticipation. "You'd better be gettin that paint on," she whispered, "We head out as soon as yer ready."

He shook his head at her slowly. She was a bold creature and he wanted to tell her that chasing down their enemies was a bad idea. They were but two against an army. An army of two-leggers. The stallion couldn't help but allow the corners of his mouth the tip up in a smile. She'd go alone if he refused, of this he was certain. He gave in, trotting back to get painted and ready for war. He let himself feel the rush, the excitement of coming battle and adventure. The odds made it all the more intriguing and he found a lighter spring to his step because of it.

He rejoined Hild atop the hill, a playful grin upon his face. Perhaps it was death they ran to. Perhaps it was the aversion of open war. Whatever the end, he would always meet it. He nodded to the fiery Hild and she took off running, her hooves thunderous against the hard ground. He watched a moment before giving chase. Yes, he would always meet it... with her.

Note(s): When speaking of “Tribe” I am speaking of the Herds, only horses. The “Creatures” “Monsters” etc are the humans who are invading the Soquili land. Oh and their both named "eagle" because they ones who found them could think of no other explanation for their sudden appearance then they must have been dropped by an eagle.

And sorry for the length, had so much i wanted to cover and still more I wish i could include XD ^^ Hope if anything you enjoy it!

Male's name: Kwahu (eagle in Hopi)
Male's personality and/or brief bio: You’ll see how he acts in the story but a bio is in order…
Past - Born in the tribe first afflicted by the human’s attack. One of only two survivors. Does not remember his birth tribe. Taken by a wind messenger who was shot down, found by the mares of the mountain (Tse) tribe. Grew up in the mountain tribe. Polite as a foal, and rather quiet. Didn’t want to join the tribe’s army, in fact he flunked the training program on the first week. Sent to work with the women as a reject…until the war reached them and all males, regardless of ability were forced into the army.

Present (ie how they would be RPed/their current personalities after the story bellow) - Tough, prone to moments of extreme rage or happiness. Believes it is his mission in life to sire a new tribe meant to wipe out the humans. Loyal to Migisi, and would die to protect her. Mates though necessity, not love.

Female's name: Migisi (eagle in Cheyenne)
Female's personality and/or brief bio: And for her…
Past - Born in the tribe first afflicted by the human’s attack. One of only two survivors. Does not remember her birth tribe. Taken by a wind messenger who was shot down, found by the leaders of the river (Yahto) tribe. Lived among the river tribe. Princess of the tribe, pampered and spoiled. Hated it but played her part as she was suppose to. Upon her fathers death she took up the lead position as no son had been born. Made plans to explore and attempt to grow and merge the tribe with others nearby to allow for protection from the growing war…until the messenger came.

Present (ie how they would be RPed/their current personalities after the story bellow) - Belives she has been chosin to be the dam of a new tribe of Soquili ment to rid the lands of the humans. Easily annoyed with Kwahu’s mood swings but deals with him and feels an attachment towards him. Watches over Kwahu like a mix between an over attentive mother, a worried wife, and a guardian angel.

Your tale:

A soft rustle alerted the thinking mare to another’s presence. Her eyes did not move from their position as her ears swiveled around. “What is the latest news?” Her voice was even and to some, cold. But then she had lost many of her tribe, her family. Gone was the sweet, polite queen. Gone the robe and sash. Paint marred her once beautiful coat, feathers and dirt stuck out of her ones soft mane. She was no longer who she once was. No one was. Sighing she listened to the latest reports. Five more were to be burned tonight. Five more, gone. And the foals? Still safe. She sighed once more, this time in relief. Their only hope, two tiny foals. “Go, find the traveller and send them away. Far away from here. We will fight to our last steed and pray we can stop this madness before all of the lands are consumed.” She turned and took off down the ledge, heading towards camp. A nod to her mate, her king, and she rounded up more fighters, heading back to battle. No one would survive that fight. No one, but two tiny little friends, barely old enough to walk.

~~~~~

Clear blue eyes watched the rising smoke. “Dammit, Its getting closer.” Pure, untainted skin moved over sleek and strong muscles as she paced back and forth. “Dammit all, this isn’t good. At this rate we’ll be joining that. The Takoda’s are gone, and the Tse just entered the fray from the looks of that smoke pillar. And I’ve heard the Wayra are at the end of the line…Tell everyone to remain calm, we will hold out as long as we have to. I will not risk shedding innocent blood over some stupid…” Migisi’s eyes snapped to the tent flap as it flung open. A short, stunted little mare heaved, swaying on her feet.

“Lady…Lady Migisi! They…its begun!” She collapsed.

Three pairs of eyes locked onto their leader.

Swinging her head around, she looked them evenly in the eye. “…Make the call, we go to war.”

~~~~~

A shiver passed through the black hide. Screams assaulted his ears and his eyes closed, willing it all a dream. Sighing he opened his eyes, the bright red turning a dark crimson as he steeled himself to return to battle.

“Kwahu! Hurry up, we need ba-” The shout was cut off into gurgles as an arrow pierced the shouter. Flinching the dark stallion hurried on, diving into the heat of the battle. Cries and screams echoed off the rock walls as he darted through the fray. Bodies of kin and monsters littered the ground at his feet and once more he wished he had been blessed with wings. Turning he kicked, knocking another creature down.

“Damn these monsters…” he cursed. “Damn them all…”

~~~~~

It was many moons that the battles continued in the once quiet lands. Many lives lost, many tribes destroyed. Families were no more, loves lost and torn apart. Some had been taken prisoner, slaves to the creatures whom had invaded the lands years prior. Others gave themselves over in an attempt to save their lives. They often found themselves pitted against tribe mates. They rarely survived.

Migisi kicked away the body of one such traitor. She snorted and moved alone, fighting fatigue as she looked for a place to rest in the rocky landscape the battle had brought her to. Her glorious flesh was heavily marked to show who, and what, she was. Across her legs were the markings of the Yahto tribe, her tribe. Her back showed her status, leader of the tribe. The golden feathers as well, gave her position away. Resting on one fore leg, her name symbol. An eagle. She collapsed under an outcropping, eyes sliding shut as she passed out.

Nearby, unseen, Kwahu had watched the once mighty queen disappear into the natural shelter. A queen…Alone. Her tribe must be gone, for that was the only explanation to why she would not be with others, guards and fighters. His heart soared at the thought. A queen, without a tribe to lead. And his own tribe, without a leader of their own. He had been sent to find another tribe and gain their aid. Slipping from his spot he moved into the cave like crevice. Kneeling he waited, and listened.

~~~~~

Cold air woke the misplaced queen as something nearby moved. Alarmed she jolted awake, eyes narrowed, ears flattened, teeth barred. The sight that met her, however, threw her for a loop. A dark stallion stood before her, looking a bit sheepish. She snorted and stood. “Name yourself” She looked him over. The bright red paint stood out against his dark body and she examined him closely. Not a traitor. Part of the Tse tribe, judging by the markings along his leg and back. A ordinary solider. The eagle marking surprised her. His name was the same as hers?

The stallion bowed, sending another wave of cool air towards the mare. “I am Kwahu, my lady. You must be Lady Migisi of the Yahto tribe. I hail from the Tse tribe and we are in need of your leadership. The monsters are growing ever stronger as we are weakening. The king is dead and we are lost.”

This shocked her. The king of the Tse was dead? “I see. My tribe is small in numbers…” she looked to the dark sky. “If they still exist. I shall return with you and in the morning we shall push forward, to my home, and merge, if possible.” She nodded. “Let us move. Darkness is our friend.”

Kwahu couldn’t agree more. He moved back, allowing her to exit, before taking off back home, leading the way to where he only hoped camp would still be found.

~~~~~

Eyes surveyed the broken area bellow. Naked monsters ran, screaming their garbled rubbish to the sky as fires burned and flesh was scorched. Migisi wrinkled her nose. “Barbarians. Worse then the Kalona they are.” She sneered. Looking at the stallion beside her, her gaze softened. “I am truly sorry. I understand what this is li-”

Her attempt at consoling him fell on deaf ears as with a loud cry the stallion charged forth, heading towards the enemy camp. Nostrails flared and eyes glowed as he zeroed in on the celebrating creatures. He’d kill them, all of them, or die trying! The smell of burning flesh, burning friends, family, drove him wild as the need to kill took over.

“Dammit, stupid, stupid!” She darted after him. If he got in the way there would be no telling what would happen. They’d both end up dead, that’s for sure. Reached out she grabbed his tail, stopping suddenly, pulling him back along with her. The yelp that issued from his mouth would have been hilarious, had the situation not been so dire.

“What was that?” He turned, glaring at her. The station difference no longer mattered to him. “They are eating my family, I will not sit by and…”

“Shut up!” She kicked him. “Listen, they are gone. Gone. Charging head long into their camp will not bring your family back! It will only kill you. The gods have chosen you to live, just as they have chosen I. Do not throw your life away! Mere solider or not, I will not let you endanger myself or your own life!” She almost snarled. “I will kill you before I let you risk our necks to save some burning pieces of flesh!”

Harsh words. But they worked. The stallion stood, shaking off the rocks that clung to his rear. “I apologize…I was just…” She was right. The gods had labeled them survivors. They were to move onward. And what? Build a new tribe? Run and hide? “Why…?” he whispered to himself. But she caught it.

“While I slept, I had a dream. The land was baron and dead, no life but my own. Then, another and suddenly there was grass again, and water, trees and birds…Life had returned.” She spoke and her voice softened in awe of her own account. “The gods spoke to me. And I see now what they wish. We are all that is left. All that exists, perhaps in this entire land, of the once great tribes. We are to go, to find the land deserted by all, and to bring new life to this lost world of ours. We will bring new life…and then, one day, we will return and destroy the vary monsters who drove us together. We will rise with a new tribe, a stronger tribe.”

Crimson met blue and a pact was made. They would go, find this land of no life, and one day they would return. One day, they would rid the world of the creatures that had stolen their homes. One day…the Soquili would rise once more.