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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 10:10 am
The moonlight glittered on the small mare's hide, reflecting off of her opalescent scales. Esta raised her head as if in greeting to the moon, for she often felt a kinship with the heavenly object. The white usdia often chose to travel at night for that reason. Aside from that, the only other good reason to travel at night was because her pale scales tended to be sensitive to bright sunlight. The negatives of travelling in the darkness, however, were as easily illuminated as her hide.
But that was okay. It did, after all, take sharp teeth to get through her scales.
Esta's course paralleled the river, with the moon shining down on her guide, showing her the route as it flowed through the hills off into the distance. It was a beautiful night, if cold, though snow had yet to turn the ground into near-perfect camouflage for the usdia.
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 10:17 am
It was night and most of the creatures of the forest were curled up in their hollows, fast asleep. Those that weren't stayed in anyway out of fear. They had learned that evil had staked out a territory that enveloped their homes, and should they venture out into the darkness...they would never return.
Wyrsa snorted. Foolish creatures. But, since her normal hunting grounds were shy of prey, the Skinwalker had been forced to try elsewhere. Along the river seemed like a good plan.
She had only had the silvered road in sight for a couple minutes when a figure, blindingly bright in the darkness, approached. It was a Soquili, she was sure, though much smaller than any but a foal. And yet Wyrsa would swear that the small mare before was just that, an adult mare. It was a strange concept, and yet, perfect.
This tiny Soquili would be the perfect meal. Fangs bared and trusting to the matte black pelt upon her back to hide the reflections of her scales, Wyrsa carefully stalked towards her prey.
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 10:30 am
Esta was taking in the sights, enjoying the cool night air when suddenly she stopped. Something was wrong. It had become dead silent, when the night was normally filled with some sort of noise, even at this time of year. But now...nothing. Ears up in alarm, the usdia began peering at the shadows, trying to determine the source of the disturbance. Her knees alternately locked and shaking, the small Soquili wondered if she should try to run or not.
The scales she had put her faith in seemed much less sturdy than just moments before and Esta's resolve wavered. But...no. The usdia firmed her stance and bared her teeth, as out of place as the expression was on her face. Regardless of whatever else she was, she was still a wyrsa, and she refused to give in when the core of her nature demanded that she stand firm.
For the moment, it didn't matter that Esta didn't care much for violence, loved to keep company with humans and looked on the bright side of life in all things. There was an inherent violence, an inborn hatred that was the legacy of her wyrsa heritage, just like her opalescent scales.
Wordlessly, the usdia stood her ground, making it clear to the invisible threat that she would not allow fear to rule her, and that she would not be easily taken.
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 10:38 am
The Skinwalker laughed silently to herself as she saw her prey refuse to surrender to fear. Oh...how foolish! The tiny creature wasn't suited to standing up for itself, not even against a weak Kalona. The small mare was so far outclassed, and she had no idea!
And then, as the smaller Soquili planted her hooves on the ground, the cursed Soquili saw something she hadn't noticed before. The moonlight glimmered over the surface of the other's body, reflecting off innumerable tiny sections.
This other Soquili...had scales...just like Wyrsa's.
The Skinwalker left the shadows and entered the light, posture still haughty and strong enough to make it clear who her target was, but now she was curious. And yes, indeed. This stranger was another wyrsa. A white wyrsa.
Yellow eyes narrowed and haughteur turned to calculation. The Skinwalker began to circle her would-be prey, examining this strange and distant kinsman.
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Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2008 10:50 am
Esta almost broke and ran when she got a good look at what had been hiding in the brush. A Skinwalker! Their evil was legendary and from what the usdia had heird, their reputation was well-earned.
And yet...as the larger mare approached, Esta couldn't help feeling that the amount of threat in the air had abated somewhat, though she couldn't quite figure why as the stranger approached...
...oh. Beneathe the black pelt that covered her back, the Skinwalker's hide wasn't actually hide at all, but scales. Esta felt sick to her stomach as she realized that this Skinwalker - this cursed Skinwalker - had once been a wyrsa - was still! a wyrsa - and a distant cousin to herself.
But, reasoned the cold and calculating part of her mind that the usdia associated with her wyrsa blood, it was appropriate, wasn't it, that a wyrsa would become a Skinwalker? Weren't a Skinwalker's particular values, or lack of, quite similar to those a wyrsa was supposed to hold? Esta didn't like to admit it, but it was true. She was, as far as wyrsa in general went, an aberration. A mutant. A freak.
This wasn't the time for doubts though. The usdia mare stood her ground, green eyes never leaving the Skinwalker's yellow ones. They were distant kin...surely that had to mean something? Even if it was only a grudging respect? Esta clung to that hope.
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Posted: Mon Dec 08, 2008 12:49 pm
The Skinwalker paced a careful circle around the the other wyrsa, her disgust growing as she did so. The creature was so small as to be ineffectual, and her scales! Ugh. The whiteness which was almost too bright against the blackness of night was not just an affront to her senses, but something inherently wrong with this other Soquili. The tiny mare didn't even possess fangs! Wyrsa herself had had small canines that weren't much good - save for showing she was not your average mare - long before she'd been cursed!
And yet...the black mare found herself oddly unwilling to take the life of this pathetic excuse for a wyrsa. It was a feeling she'd encountered before, with her sons and Tlocatl, but that was more understandable there. The boys were all Kalona, dark and powerful in their own right - even if she could trounce them all. They were worthy of respect. This...mare, this little tiny white creature, was not.
Despite all of that, and despite all the odds currently stacked against her, the little mare still stood her ground and didn't run. Wyrsa snorted to herself. At least the stranger's blood wasn't as thin as looks would say.
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Posted: Mon Dec 08, 2008 12:55 pm
Esta stood still as the Skinwalker circled, trying to keep her eyes locked with the bigger mare's at all times - and without moving her feet. The Usdia was positive that if she unlocked her knees, she would immediately collapse on the ground and become the black mare's prey.
Within herself, Esta found herself at war. Her mind and heart fought over whether she should break and run, or whether she should lash out at this threat. Intellectually, of course, the Usdia knew that she was totally and completely outmatched by the Skinwalker, but a part of her wanted to strike the stranger anyway.
A shiver of fear ran down her spine though as she saw the yellow eyes narrow in disdain. The Skinwalker had decided that she was prey.
But...there had been no attack. Why was the other Soquili hesitating?
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Posted: Mon Dec 08, 2008 1:01 pm
Finally Wyrsa stood back in front of the little mare, nose to face. And there she stood for some long moments, considering what she had observed throughout this little encounter.
This pathetic little excuse for a wyrsa had some spine after all, for she hadn't wavered and still stood here. She stank of fear, but some compelling instinct or thought kept her in place.
At long last, the black mare broke the silence.
"For the proud heritage we share, I will spare you this night." She spoke softly, almost hissing her words, as if they were flowing out of her mouth to join with the night breeze.
"It will not happen again."
With that being said, the Skinwalker turned and headed back into the forest, melting into the shadows as she went. Wyrsa promised herself that the next time she saw this pathetic white wyrsa, she would kill it.
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Posted: Mon Dec 08, 2008 1:07 pm
Esta watched in fascination and fear as the Skinwalker stopped in front of her and stayed silent for long enough that she began sweating profusely. The mare's voice, when she finally did speak, was like the caress of a velvet glove encasing razor sharp claws. The Usdia was so dumbfounded that the black Soquili's words didn't begin to register until she was already fading back into the shadows.
She...was alive. The Skinwalker had left her alive. For the moment. Esta breathed a sigh of relief and knelt on the cold ground, knees to weak to hold her any longer.
She had been spared, but the final threat lingered in the air. It would not happen again, and the Usdia felt a sinking certainty that those words would haunt her for the rest of her life.
As her adrenaline levels continued to drop, Esta realized one more thing: the black mare's voice had been familliar.
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