Creeping Attention and Fatal Attraction - Antirr and Zillah

[Lita Rutherford]

The bright red, after his father, and purple maned, after his mother, stallion moved easily along the landscape. He had been traveling for days, months, he did not know. However he did know he was, as he had felt in those first few moments, free of restrictions. The stallion held his head high, his tight, striking blue wrappings helped his legs continue long after they should have become tired. The charm he wore, well he was invincible. And the flowers...Named after a flower himself he had a special attraction to the flowers that adorned him. As he left his mother, so long ago, at the opening of her humans' teepee she had been in tears to see him go. In her sadness and wish that he would be safe whereever he went she bestowed upon him the few flowers he kept in his mane and tail. His permedently cruel smiled softened for a moment. One day, when he had made a name for himself, he would return home and visit his mother, his brother, his father. He would see them again. But first...he must become great. He had plans. Big plans. Stallions, Mares, Offspring. All his. All his own. Followers, those who bowed to him as he passed. He would be great, oh yes, he would be great. He snorted and continued his pace as he walked away from the sunlight and to the darkness of trees.  

[Lita Rutherford]

Antirr froze. His bright body stuck out in the dark trees but he did not notice. His mane and tail shone brilllently in the dim light and still he paid no mind. His mind was busy with this voice. Female, it sounded. Great. His ears flew back, his eyes narrowed, his teeth barred. "And who are you to demand who am i? Some weak mare? Some pitiful creature?" He anwsered. Beauty or Enemy. He would accept nothing in between. He faintly spotted the speaker, tho she was dark, obviously, and it blended well. "Show yourself, mistress of the dark." He demanded coldly. "Show yourself and i may grant you my name."  

[Lita Rutherford]

He moved forward, examinging the mare. A beauty indeed. Strong too, his calculation having been wrong. She wold bare foals well, he thought. Oh he hoped she had some stallin guardien, or at least a protective brother. He so would love a fight to drag this little mare into the start of his herd. His horde more like it.

"Ah, my mistress, you insult me." His ears returned to a normal position, his body relaxing a bit, though he kept his eyes on the mare, alert. "Ignorent? Fool? By no means, my dear." He spoke smoothly. He moved in slow movments as he walked towards her. He circled her once, examinging her form and coloring. Wonderous. In one swift motion, however, he suddenly kicked at her. He would assert his athority. "Do not insult me again, mare." He snorted, his voice full of threat. "Do not take my colored body for granted. I could kill you as easy as one of those damn lizards." He snorted, using his little slur for a Kalona.  

[Lita Rutherford]

Antirr dodged, tho he felt them clip him. "Ah but it is you who underestimates me, my dear mistress of the dark." He did not know her name, he did not care her origin. But this name, no, this title, it rolled out of his mouth. And he rather liked it. "You act so tough. Yet i have faced horror you cannot dream!" He lashed out again, stricking with his hooves. He could deal with Kalona. He had fought one when he was just a foal. He ignored the fact he had been "reascued" by his grandfather. If the old man wasn't there he would have won! He snarled and lashed out again in his fury at the memory.  

[Lita Rutherford]

"Big headed? And my dear we have only just begun!" He laughed cruely, stricking out once, twice, three times in succession. He would bring her down. She would know her place.

He snorted, getting into the fight. She wished to think herself tough? Then she would face the concenquences. "If you see yourself as so powerful, you shall simply fall harder!" he smile darkly, kicking before he lashed out with his teeth as well.  

[Lita Rutherford]

Antirr countered her attach with a hoove to her face. Such beauty, he hated to ruin it. But alas she would not give in it seemed. "Like a filly? My mistress you hit as if you are the vary fool you so scorn!" he laughed. Oh he was enjoying himself. Truly enjoying himself.

"You yourself are guilty of much more pride then i!" he shouted at her as he continued his attack. He thanked the wrap braces on his legs. Straighter, tougher, the bandages held his legs to give him a more accurate kick.  

[Lita Rutherford]

"Your pride will be no more soon enough!" As she threw her weight against him he let himself tumble, relaxing so he rolled. Getting away from her he jumped up and was on his feet, charging her.

He would bring her down! She would submit! He bucked at her full force. She was a slippery little bugger, that was true. However he was strong and smart. He looked for opertnity in her position. He would find her breech in defence and bring her down. He threw his weight against her.  

[Lita Rutherford]

"We shall see about that!" He snorted and jumped back. He eyed her before he started to move, moving to circle her again. He snarled and hissed, snapping at her from time to time, growling deeply. She would fall, he told himself. She would fall. Anger filled him along with the excitment the fight brought on. The insults and taunts, they were pathetic and stupid. But he payed no mind to them. This was about their pride, they both knew it. And both knew their words ment nothing. Nothing at all.