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 Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 9:08 pm
Writing this out now. Will clean up after.Chapter 1:
Arrival at Brog Talamh It was still surreal to think he had been in Amityville only weeks ago and for the first time, he had to adjust to being home once more. His first summer break has a strange thing indeed as it just felt as if he had returned back to the starting point. Over and over he would pull little mementos from school. Old trashed pieces of homework he had yet to throw away, but most of all being Christof's pin that he kept in his sporran, all to remind him that he had gone to school and it had not been a lovely nightmare. He had been gone for nearly a year, and while he still felt a pull to Amityville, a beginning school-sickness for the upcoming year that seemed far too distant now, he was happy to be back in familiar territory. All the tiny things he took for granted by seeing them each and every day, once finding them boring and almost suffocating in their monotony he saw as refreshing and touching to his heart. This was his home, complete with the slanted cottage swollen with water and warped gray. Green moss that coated his house, crawling up on all sides and blossoming into flowers, mushrooms, and various sprouting trees on it's roof. He missed the dried wheat swaying in the small fields by their house, the crawling ivy, his mothers various plant beds of herbs, and the churning river that ran through their home. The smell of upturned earth, cold water, and rotting leaves that he couldn't get enough of that he spent the first few days taking in deep lungfuls. Then, at night, after eating food that he missed when sitting in the cafeteria and making due with what came closet to what he was used to, he would crawl into the loft of his home, into the hay mounds, and listen to the creaking of the water wheel as it turned before falling asleep.
But with warm weather came the heavy rains of October, and On-ding Day was fast upon them, a festival that, despite it's name, lasted a entire week. A celebrated holiday of holidays crammed into one great time where all members of the clan came together on sacred grounds and enjoyed themselves. The heavy rains made the rivers, wells, ponds, and lochs fat and ground soaked through and through. This was a time to be enjoyed, and Calder could only be nervous as he packed for the week, grabbing a carry that he could put on his back and clip the harness to keep it in place. Unlike hsi parents, he wasn't at the point to control his suction skin ability yet, though he was starting to notice that he was just starting to grain such an ability. Not, of course, with any real control. Every morning his shirt tended to have to be peeled off and he would huff and frown when he found his hair sticking to his forehead when he didn't want it to. His father would comb it back into a pony tail to his own delight, and Calder was sure he was happier now that his son didn't seem so cross at having his hair messed with or being dolled up at all anymore. When he asked, Calder didn't mention why he had such a sudden change of heart during the school year, but it seemed to make his dad happier.
"You look as if you are going to a funeral." His mother commented as he left the house and set his bag down, waiting for his mother to clip on the harness once he shifted into his horse form. "It's not that long of a trip, and just think. When we arrive, we can celebrate our birthdays together." His mother, Ailsa, moved over to brush back his son's hair and kiss his brow. "It's everyone's birthday during On-ding." Calder corrected, not really feeling optimistic. His mind was going over and over through kelpie history and Devon clan bloodlines that his mind was feeling more flooded than the river cutting through their home. He had been so happy to pass his exam and celebrate Prom that he forgot he had the clan exam when he left school. OH! He wasn't even sure he memorized half the names correctly!!!!
The slender, black horse that was his father came up and beamed down at him."Don't worry. I'm sure your exam will go well. Your mother sent you all those books after all." His mother nodded, and Calder rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say. You didn't have to take the exams." Of course, his father wasn't part of the clan. No amount of Devon Clan knowledge would get him into their clan, but he didn't seem to mind at all. Sighing, he changed and was soon standing on four legs. His mother threw his pack on his back and clipped on the harness about his chest and stomach. Once secure, she changed as well and then bit onto the ring holding her pack and simply set it on her back. Her suction kept it in place. "Don't worry too much, clover-cakes. You'll just make yourself sick. It's a long trip to walk on an upset stomach. Good thing I packed some tea."
"Come on now. We should get going if we want to make it on time. Wouldn't want to be late." His father waited for his mother to take the lead, her thick, imposing white form taking the front as he took the middle and his father, an impressive white and gray with a slender body, followed behind. A band of white horses.
Head down, he huffed. "Yeah. Wouldn't want to miss that exam." Oh. There was that upset stomach his mother warned him about. Great. It really was going to be a long trip and he doubted tea would fix it............................................ The festival of On-ding Day was, at the heart, a fishing festival. During the great floods, the heavy rains brought in plenty of new game for their kind. With plenty of kelpie bands working together and having plenty to eat, breaking out the fine alfalfa wine wasn't unheard of, and that meant plenty of dancing, singing, and plenty of their kind being frisky. Marriages soon followed this time, not to mention harem proposals, a few mates being brought together and thrown over shoulders, and most of all, leading to many birthdays coming the following year. Come next year, the streams now high with water, tender pumpkins would be placed on soft river beds and new colts and fillies would step out into the fresh rivers, bits of pumpkin rushing down the river as new faces were introduced into their clan. With their group so few in number, this too was a cause for celebration. It came to the point that no one celebrated their birthday because everyone was usually born during the festival.
Usually most of their clan meetings changed in location from one point in the main river to the next, but On-ding always happened in one specific place - Brog Talamh, (which loosely translated to Hoof Dirt). Here, the main Devon River grew out and in the center of the river was an island, but once the river rose up, it became a series of connecting islands. The main, larger was where most of the festivities took place, but the smaller ones neatly divided different sections of the festival. From places to eat, places to sit and rest, others for playing games, and up the river to places for the elderly and young foals. The banks on either side of the river were the nursery beds that were timid and safe enough from the fast currents of the recent flooding and the perfect places to set ready pumpkins to hatch. Then, once able, the parents swam in with their new children on their backs. For the most part, most of the heavy currents were deeper down. Bands from all around came to meet here, and the various bands, from harems to bachelor groups, that made the clan picked their spots alongside the river bank. Since they were the smallest, his family never had to worry, though they couldn't pick the best spots. Somewhere out of the way and not too close to the bands that didn't fully approve of them being there.
It was a long trip, broken up by ferries over more dangerous waters that even his parents couldn't work through, and thick swamps, but by the time they got there, they were usually all his high spirits to finally rest, settle, and enjoy themselves. Still, each and every time he came, he was on edge and nervous, being mindful who he looked at, avoiding bumping into anyone, and sticking close to his mother. Because, quiet simply, he was only a attached member because of his mother. Despite marrying a stallion outside of the Leads' approval, they still let her stay due to her talent in herbalism. Calder was happy she hadn't been kicked out, and he had been happy to learn about the clan and come here because of her. Sadly, this would all change. He would be of age this very week, celebrating his birthday with everyone else, and if he did not pass his exam, since he would no longer be a child, he would have to become a member on his own and not by being his mother's child. It made him nervous to no end.
"You going to turn all that lovely black hair white again with all your worrying." Ailsa said, looking to her son as he trotted back and forth, holding one of the kelpie texts his parents had worked hard to get for him. Without anyone to recite the entire history to him like all the other young kelpies had, he had to learn on his own. Names and names and dates and stories and random facts all stretching as far back and as long as the Devon River itself. "I just...I just got to get through these names. I can't make a mistake. They're not going to let me have a do over. What if I stutter? Is this timed? Mom? Is it?!" He pulled on an ear, looking back at the page that was already blurring. No one else had to both know how to read kelpie text AND memorize it. Everyone else just got to listen to a helpful rhyme and recite the entire stories out. He wished he had some note cards like he learned to use in school. Those were so helpful!
"Calder, don't worry. I passed my exam without any trouble. They will give you time. Just say what comes to mind first and move on. What will happen will happen. You still have all day. You're exam isn't till tomorrow."
"You make that sound like I have all the time in the world!" He whined, watching as his mother set their bags down on the small patch of meadow they were reserving for themselves. Even as far off from the main islands that made Brog Talamh, he could hear the music, high whinnies, and laughter of the festival already in full swing. They should have come here days ago, but they had been a few days behind. Now he had only today to memorize! He wished he could go back a year and pick this stuff up again, but his time at school had been so busy with other things like field trips and friends and just having fun!
He plopped on the ground as his father, Finley, moved over to play with his hair. "Nope, dear. Not all white again. Still coming in black. Ahh. If only you kept your white hair. You could be as pretty as your mother"
"I don't want to have ghoul hair." He huffed, leaning away as his father tried to braid it and flopping on the ground.
"Come now, dear. We should go to the main island and enjoy ourselves a bit. It's too late now for all this studying. You can't cram everything in a day. You might as well relax." Calder remained on the ground, still staring at the book despite his eyes feeling like they would cross. Then he felt a heavy weight as his father started to grab him and try to squeeze him with a big hug, nuzzling the side of his face. "AHH!! GET OFF! GET OFF! I'LL GO! I'LL GO!" Laughing, his father released and got up as Calder flushed, closing his book with a sigh of defeat. He was right. There was nothing more he could do. Rising, he helped his parents set up the blankets for the night, move some stones and set their bags into bushes. Then they wrote a sign on a spike and planted it on the ground to show it was claimed. One could only hope no other band higher than them would come over and trample their things out of spite. Then, together, they headed over to the river and started to swim over. ........................................... One great thing about having the entire clan come together was the food. Everyone brought something and the tables were nothing more than a giant pot luck of every type of cuisine. Smoked, salted, sweetened, and spiced. Nothing bitter or sour. Ugh. Salted newt, smoked mudfish, sweetened turtle chunks. Every manner of harvested flower, herb, plant imaginable into a variety of salads and garnishes, not to mention slimy, thick dips. Even with a week, you could walk down the line and not even finish it all. Most of all was the fragrance, heavy smell of alfalfa wine that came from massive barrels set in the back. Calder was excited because now that he was older, his parents promised he could get an entire cup of his own instead of sneaking sips. That was, of course, after his exam. He only hoped he would be drinking in celebration and not in a deep depression.
Benches and tables were scattered everywhere, carved and placed here just for the occasion. If there was one thing their kind could do, it was making things from wood. While Calder was impressed with the heavy plastic and fold-away tables from school, there was something about the feel of wood under his hands, the smell of it and the many marks, dints, and carved names in the surface of these tables. His mother placed a large basket of minnow-poppers and they gathered some food before moving to sit farther away on the ground, working their way through both kelpies on four hooves and those who decided to save space and be in humanoid form. For any onlooker, it was the most gorgeous collection of creatures ever assembled.
Plate full, he sat beside his parents far away. Here, they could be left alone, and Calder bite into the sweet bread and listened to a pair of drunken stallions further down that were causing a scene and singing out of tune. One lead the song while the others laughed and joined in the chorus."My laddy love has four great legs,
And shows and flaunts her grace
Letting all the Stallions kiss her hooves
When she throws them in their face!" Calder grinned and felt a heavy tug on his heart. Turning, he looked up at his mother. "Mom. ....what will you do if I don't pass? Dad and I won't be able to come next year if I don't. You'll be all alone. Won't that be dangerous for you?" Traveling alone was not only depressing, but it was dangerous. It was why those that were banished moved to the city else they risked dangers living on their own. The only reason he dad was allowed here was because Calder and his mother could come to the clans and he could come as a guest, though not one that was very well received. If Calder didn't pass, he would be of age anyways to stay at home, and his Dad could come to watch over his mother, but would more likely stay at home with him. The thought of not being able to come here, to On-ding Week, to any meeting, troubled him, but he wondered how badly it would pain his mother if she had to come here alone.
His mother turned, licking his fingers from some salted slugs she was chewing. "Don't worry about me, dear. I'll come when I want, but I'd probably stay home. There is no point in coming unless there is news, and this is just a festival. If there is a urgent meeting, I would go to that, but this is just for play. I wouldn't have nearly as much fun knowing you are at home with your father. Could you image you two alone?" She shook her head, smiling at her husband before he tossed a bit of bread at her face.
"But what about your sisters? Don't you want to see them?" Calder frowned. His mother barely got to see her siblings anymore, and even now, most of them barely talked to her. What with being with a foreign and having him. They often looked at him, wondering if he was really a pure kelpie or just something that looked like one. Despite the clean signs. Even with his slowly growing black hair, he still looked like his mother. It might have been sweet grace that the river made him look more like her when he came out of his pumpkin, yet he was far daintier, like his father. It was this here and there in his features that made others look at him and pass by, not quiet sure. Maybe that was the only reason he had been allowed to wear the clan colors up until now. That and desperation for more able kelpies to grow up and bring in more little ones. Their numbers were getting fewer.
"I can see my sisters when I see them. They are not going anywhere. Besides, we don't have much to say." Calder frowned, picking pieces from his bread and eating it. His sisters rarely talked to his mother because they didn't have the guts to come over and talk. Only a few came over to share. He hoped that once he got into the clan, they could come back to talk to his mother more. He knew she wanted to talk to them, and sadly, most of their kind didn't know how to write. Letters were out of the question.
Soft white hair curtains his face as his mother came, rubbing her cheek against his. "My little tadpole. Don't make that face. Just worry about yourself. Smile. This is a festival, and no one likes a frown during their birthday. It's a party after all. Come. You should dance with me after we eat." She said, and brushed his hair back behind his ear.
He smiled, slowly eating his bread. Right. He was a stallion this week. A nice 15 years of age. He should celebrate now in cause of what happened tomorrow. Make both of them happy now.
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Posted: Mon Jul 04, 2011 9:10 pm
Chapter 2:
Exams And Proposals ]As exhausted as he was from food, drink, and dancing, he still woke up hours before dawn to the soft grays of early morning. A pleasant rain had started, soaking his clothes and he smiled, sticking out his tongue. He hoped it was a good sign. Rain on an exam day fresh and early in the morning, but it was a tad too warm. That was never good! Rising, he gave up on reading his book and laid on the soft ground, curled between his mother and father and smiling as the water drenched their faces and their ears flicked. Together, like this, he felt safe despite being out in the open, and he tucked in his hooves, turning his large, horse body and resting his head on his mother's shoulders, before closing his eyes. His head rising and falling as she breathed, and feeling as if he could sleep again. He wondered if they would stay after their exam or head home early. It was troubling to think he could ruin this entire festival by failing.
I'll just pretend I'm okay if I fail. I won't cry. I'll be a strong stallion. I'm older now. I'll just shake it off. Laugh it off, and we can enjoy the rest of the festival..............maybe our last one together.
He removed his head from his mother's back and rose up on all fours, shaking his mane and deciding to go for a walk. His stomach turned like a basket of eels and he didn't think he'd eat breakfast today. While he tried to focus on any questions he might be given, he was far too exhausted that even trying to think made his brain turn into mush. Instead, he walked along the bank, being mindful of any sleeping groups, and headed to the softer pools around the river. He wondered if there were still parents around the nursing ponds waiting for their children to come into the world, and he headed over to check. Children were such an important part of their clan. With such small numbers, everyone was encouraged to have children. More kelpies for their kind of strong blood and build.
In the soft trickle of rain hitting fall leaves, he noticed the big groups of horses all huddled together. Large bands, and he wondered if, had his mother been accepted after mating with his dad, if they would have liked living in such a big group. His mother would have had plenty of people to talk to from when she grew up as a little filly. Her old friends and family, and he would have known lots of kids. Made memories with them like all the others. As he passed, noticing the little colts and fillies nestled against their mothers, most recent additiosn of just this week, he thought of how lucky they were.
But you have friends now.
Yes. Calder did. Unlike most kelpies, he got to go to school and made plenty of friends. Like Christof, Barth, and Malodore! He missed them now, and he knew none of them would care if he passed or failed his exam. Then again, none of them knew he was even taking one.........not that he ever shared anything like that about himself to them. In times like this, maybe it was better he never told them. That way he wouldn't have to go back to school and tell them if he was a clan reject or not....or why he wasn't just naturally a member like other kelpies who didn't have to take an exam as hard as his because they were from families who had higher ranking members. Bands who could listen for years about their history through storytellers instead of learning kelpie text and reading it.
No one would know anything about this summer when he went back to Amityville, and he smiled at that. He'd be welcomed there.
He made it to the start of the nursery ponds and noticed some broken pumpkins. A few were still bobbing in the shallow water, being drenched by the early shower, and he noticed their parents huddled by the bank nearby. He hoped most would hatch and that none of them were swept by the current as a rare few were prone to do. Hazards from day one.
Turning, he headed back to his parents and to get ready for his exam............................................ The exam was not like one Calder would expect with Amityville. He didn't get a sheet of paper and a pencil, nor did he have to fight a shadow creature. Presented with three historians of their clan, storytellers of their group that knew the ins and outs of their entire clan history, the history of all shared kepie-kind, and also a good chunk of other clans, would sit inside a tent and ask him questions. There, he would answer to the best of his ability and they would take the time to think about it and judge. Most were not allowed to drink between the end of an exam and judging simply because one would forget, and because of this most judges only waited a day before coming up with a verdict. Why waste an entire day of getting hammered on a test? Most of their kind were just accepted into the clan, but those that were either a bit too dim, a bit too wild, or from questionable backgrounds, had to take an exam. For this reason, not too many people were lined up for the test and Calder was only one of two. The other was a much older kelpie who was many years his senior and was dressed in a kilt, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket. It seemed he was one of the bachelors that had been forced out of a band and probably had some behavior problems as he didn't even look all that nervous about taking the test. In fact, he had seen him trot without fear into the tent, looking as if the world could Jack Off. Overheard gossip said the boil didn't even want to be in it and would join the Rampaging Racers, a group of punk boils who had left the entire clan to start a motorcycle gang.
As predicted, he didn't manage to eat much of anything during breakfast and had nibbled on handful of moor beatles until he was summoned. With a nuzzle and a good luck from his parents, he headed to one of the farther tents. Here, the more serious business matters were being attended to. The Leads, the top dominate kelpies of both the mares and the statllions converged together to discuss concerns and generally update on their own issues. It was also here where the testing text was set up, and Calder kept his head low and eyes down as he passed by, making sure not to cross anyone. He was so far down on the totem pole that if he so much as looked at anyone here the wrong way, they could very well take his neck and snap it without any reprecussions. Then, when he reformed.......IF he reformed, he would be offically banished or just in a whole heap of trouble. That was the scary thing about being in a tight-knit group. They could get away with most anything inside of their own clan.if it just involved their own members and everyone else would back them up.
Twisting his scarf, he headed into the tent. Far away from the other islands, the distant sound of drums and fiddles seemed an eternity away when presented with the grim frowns of the three story tellers before him. Two were female, high ranking of course, and one was male. All three were stunningly beautiful, with shimmering, glossy hair (Mares white, male black), and dressed in their finiest. Kelpies spared no expense on their looks and despite being rather low ranking creatures in the world hiarchy and having no real interact with the outside world, they dressed wonderfully. If you wanted to know the best tailor and seamstress in town, you asked a kelpie.
"Calder. Son of Ailsa and Finley. Sit." One mare pointed to the center were a blanket was laid out for him to settle, and he trotted inside. For space sake, all business of this sort was done on two legs, and transforming into a horse was frowned upon. Calder sat, dropping his hands down and looking to the ground. The mare who had addressed him, her face sharp with almond eyes, took the center with the others by her side. "Answer the questions loudly and clearly. Do not dally. Do not mutter. Do not muddle up your words or try to blur the names in trying to guess the right one. We will neither confirm or deny the answers. Don't ask us for help. Don't take too much time. If you take too long or if we see you do not know, we'll move on. Don't ask for a do-over.." To which she quoted and rolled her eyes, seeming to have been used to this request happening more times than she would have liked. "...or for more time. We'll tell you when the exam is done. There is water beside you in that canteen, and if you need to go to the bathroom, go now. If not, don't ask till the exam is over. If you have a finkle flea in your ear telling you the answers, we are in our right to remove that ear and you will fail the exam also. Do you understand?"
Despite her thick accent, he nodded.
"I said do you understand?" She stressed, and he nodded again and added. "Yes."
"Then we will begin.." ........................................... Hours later, Calder left the tent feeling on edge and exhausted. He wanted a nap...or a hard drink.......or a shovel to the head. He didn't know how many times he was slowly going through a answer and was cut short, or if he got one name wrong or repeated a name more than once, and what was the name of the lucky net of Degalin's third son?!!! He hadnt' read that ANYWHERE! By the end of the exam, he had no idea if he was passing or failing miserably, but now he just wanted to cry out loud that it was over. His brain was putty, his mouth dry, and he was sure he had just proven to some top ranking kelpies that he was an utter moron.
It took enough strength to just cross the river to the main island where his parents were waiting, and when he found them resting in the field with many other kelpies, he walked over, knelt down, and buried his face into his mother's shoulder. She scooped him up and stroked his back. "There. There. I'm sure it went fine."
"My head hurts." He whined, to which his father rose up from beside him. "I'll go get you a pint. You are old enough to deserve it now, especially now. Though that's your limit."
"Bring me a glass too!" Ailsa called, and Finley smiled. "Well, it's going to be a party for sure!" And he trotted off to go fetch them their drinks.
"Now, now. Come on. It's over. Just breathe and relax. You did your best, and now it's in their hands. Come. Sit with us and rest a bit." Calder's head was turned in his mother's rough hands, and he turned to sit next to her, watching the flooded river move beyond them. He had tried. He had tried his hardest, and it was the end results that worried him the most. Trying wasn't good enough. He wasn't bright. He wasn't smart. He wasn't strong. He knew that from being in school and the many battles he was in,and while those had been important to him, this was up there. Very up there.
His father returned with three mugs heavy with the smell of musky alfalfa and handed his son a overflowing cup. "Now don't get too sloshed. We're only giving you one, because it's a special time and you need it." A smile crossed his father's face before he nuzzled his son again, and Calder noticed that it seemed his parents had already had a few cups already. "My little boil is growing up." He tapped hsi cup against that of his son's and his mother followed suit. "To what may come."
"To what may come!" His father cheered, and drank deeply from his cup, his mother following soon after.
"...to what may come." And Calder took a sip of his drink. It's wasn't as sweet as he thought. ........................................... After the food, the dancing, the lazy resting in the grass, the day was growing long. His parents left to spend time together as he went to walk on his own, being mindful where he trotted of course. It was rather dangerous for him to talk alone if he passed someone higher in the clan who didn't like him, but he kept to the outskirts. Tired and worn, worried and sick of it, he wished the day would be over or maybe that he had another pint of that alfalfa wine. It had certainly killed a a hour in a happy buzz that had lingered for a bit and made him forget, but now all the festivities were dying down for the evening. Recharging for the morning. A few mares were singing softly to a tune of the diddle, tapping their hooves on the ground as they leaned on each other, slipping fruit into each other's mouthes and laughing.
Smiling, he passed by, leaving the harmony of the soft music behind him to go to the farther banks and decided maybe it was time to turn in early.
In the dark, away from the bon fires and lanterns, the black waters of Devon rolls past, fat with rain. Overhead, the clouds rolled, indecisive as to pour or pass by. His kind certainly wouldn't mind a heavy downpour and it would no way postpone any dancing come morning.
His ears pivoted when he heard the sound of hoof-falls and turned to see a black figure move along the bank to him. Tall and well built, with glossy black hair that caught the torchlight. Stallion. Natural habit caused his eyes to shoot down, and he remained still, waiting for the other to pass.
But they didn't.
In his line of sight, he noticed the hooves stop before him, and cautious, he looked up and froze.
Strong build. Full kilt and tartan drapped across his chest, with a white tunic shirt. He wore a leather collar about his neck of old rawhide intricately woven with a green jewel at it's center. His earrings of sea-foam green drops hung from his ears. Murchadh. One of the lead stallions of their group. His very presence around him made Calder's head sink into his shoulders like a turtle.
"Calder." His voice rolled smoothly, and he quickly nodded, but didn't speak.
"I've spoken with the historians about your exam."
Wait?! He was delivering his verdict?! Oh no. This was bad. If he failed, was he going to be escorted off the island??!!! He held his breath, heart hammering against his chest like waves crashing against a cliff.
"You won't pass."
His eyes shot up and he gapped. "...but....but....I learned everything. I.........I tried so hard. I really did! I didn't stack or anything and I read the books all during the scho-"
Murchadh rose his hand and Calder clamped his mouth shut as if the stallion was a wizard and summoned a spell. Instead, it was simple respect and fear. Not FEAR fear, but simple fear from authority.
"That isn't your wrong place. They weighed other things about your position. By tomorrow, they will all be in agreement. From what I heard, they have had that decision for some time and are merely making a show of taking this long."
Calder wrapped his arms about his chest, feeling sick to his stomach. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the heavy taste of failure crawling in his insides and burning like a hot coal.
"I didnt' come here to tell you this. You can still get into this clan, but only with assistance."
"Wait?" Calder looked up. "How do I do that? They won't talk to me dad." As a kelpie, the mares handled the mares and fillies and the stallions handled the stallions and colts. Since his father was not of this clan, Calder had no representative, and he was just of age right now. He could only speak for himself, and if they were already decided on him, then what?
"I have a proposition for you. I do not want you to leave this clan. I knew your mother. You know that much. We grew up together like all of us that year. My sister was in the same harem as her. It was a terrible event that your mother was nearly forced out, and instead pushed off. I don't wish for her to leave entirely."
Murchadh came closer to where he stood, an imposing figure of black waves over crystal blue eyes. "You are of age, and by tomorrow, you will be rejected from this clan officially. With my word in your favor, and my vouch that you are worth keeping here, you could pass. That is, unless you accept the terms that as I vouch for you, that I see to it that you do not go against my word of being worth keeping in this clan by being raised in my care."
Calder looked about, rather unsure of what exactly was going on. Murchadh, a lead stallion in their clan, was going to talk on his behalf? He ....wasn't drunk, was he?
It seemed the older kelpie noticed his confusion and clarified. "If I give them my word, I want you join my harem."
Harem? His legs went weak and buckled stiff under him, nearly making him drop. "Ha-harem?" He was drunk! There was no way in hell that this was going on.
Murchadh seemed unphased, and continued on his easy, relaxed paced.
"Don't get me mistaken. I'm not doing this out of pity." His blue eyes looked him over, from scuffed hooves to his mangled, stick-riddled hair. Reaching out, he tugged at one, watching the hair effortlessly untangle itself as if it begged to be freed from the debris.
"You have inherited your mother's good looks. It was a blessing from the river you came out of your pumpkin with her side showing and not his. You look just as she did when she was a young filly." He smiled, turning the stick about in his fingers as he examined it and then looked back at the boil, eyes clouded with nostalgia. "...but you lack a lot of what made her grand. Despite that, your very appearance is an asset to you. If you ever bothered to clean it up, you would become one of the better stallion in our group and rise in our clan ranks. All you need to do is learn how to better harness you haunting appearance and control the natural talents of our kind. Sadly, I blame your parents for letting you run amuck and make a mess of yourself. I hope you will learn more under my guidance."
Calder wished to step away, but turning his back on Murchadh would have been a great insult, and he stayed put, as a proper colt of his rank should. Still, he gritted his teeth at having his parents insulted, and felt uneasy about how the older kelpie regarded him as he remembered his mother from the past. It only reminded him of how many years he was his senior. While Calder liked older men, he felt uneasy around him.
"Not only that, but even if you manage to get into the Clan by passing on your own, you wouldn't last long. You are not fully protected. Someone will notice your potential as I have and will find a way to make you look as if you were breaking a rule or doing some grave mistake against them. To get you out of the way or simply to make sure you didn't start a harem of your own and start challenging them. With your build, it wouldn't take any effort to take you by the neck and shake you until it snaps. You may look strong in the hoof, but you're body is but a twig. Sadly, you didn't get your mother's stronger build."
He dropped the stick and went back to fully regarding the boil. "...and at some point, I won't be the only one after you. Anyone of even the lowest rank could make a bid on having you in their harem, and I can assure you that they will not be as great as offer as mine or treat you as kindly for your...questionable background. I'm not going to beg for this. It's more a service to you than to me. I leave my offer at your hooves. I'll come back in a few hours to hear what you have to say. After that, I'll leave it to the judges to talk about your acceptance. You can decide what I tell them or if I don't bother speaking with them at all. I'll see you later this evening, at this spot. Think about it." And with that, Murchadh flicked his tail and passed by, his thick, glossy hooves barely making a sound as he walked by and in no time, with his long legs and longer strides, was gone.
*Lead Mares and Lead Stallions that dictate matters in each clan.
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Posted: Tue Jul 05, 2011 11:22 am
Chapter 3:
I Dos and I Won'ts There was no way he could think about resting, and he debated even going back to camp to see his parents, worried that they would instantly know something was amiss. At some points he could hide a lot about what he was feeling, but there were also times his feelings were out in the open, waving flags and tooting a kazoo. He hoped he was pulling off the former when he arrived back, pressing a fake smile as he walked in. His mother was arranging the blanket to rest on, more for comfort than for necessity, and brushed off a few slugs who took to the nice, knitted fabric that was still soggy form the morning rain. "It's going to rain again tonight. I had to move our things up on that low branch in case the water came in and washed our things down stream."
They all looked up with a degree of uncertainty, neither one of them liking having to keep their stuff up for anything. Trees. Certainly not a a kelpie's friend. Still, at least they could all reach it.
Rising, Ailsa moved to her son and took his hand. "They are going to release the runic floresce soon." For once, his mother's usual soft yet firm features broke into a ghoulish smile and Calder sighed. "You act like you're 5. Even I'm too old for the release."
"Oh, come now. It's the best part of the festival." She said, dismissing her son's frown as she looked to her husband. "Are you coming?"
"I think I might have to call it a early night." He laughed weakly, touching his head and looking a little ill. Too much wine. It happened every year, and every year Calder was stuck walking with his mother and watching the release of a bunch of flashy guppies.
His mother waved her hand, huffing as she grabbed Calder's wrist in a iron grip and started to drag him off to the river bank, not allowing anyone else to bail on her. "Let us hope you can hold your liquor better than your father else you'll be floored next year." She told him, moving towards the bank and looking around for a good spot. A few lanterns dotted the edge where a few kelpies came to watch, but most were in the dark. He didn't know why his mother bothered scouting for a spot. They were farther away from the other bands and wouldn't have the best view in the end.
Still, she found them a nice patch of clover and settled them down, pulling her son beside her. He felt too guilty to object or put up much of a fight, and sat, watching the inky water move by as he combed his hands through his tail.
A harem....
He didn't think that he would be judged on anything other than his test results, but it made sense. It wasnt' surprising that they would use the excuse of poor grades to keep him out officially, and in turn would keep the rest of his family from returning to meetings. His mother came of course, but he always wondered if someone was just waiting to see if she would leave her father and find another band. Of course anyone could challenger her and try to convince her that way, but there was an asset in his mother being spirited and thick in the legs. No one could top her! It was the reason why it had been so upsetting when she didn't go with someone just as strong and stayed with his father. No one thought much of his dad, but it had been love.
love.
Calder bit his lower lip. He so wanted to be in the clan. He loved it, and he knew it would make his mother proud. Their small family would have a easier time with two Clan members, and he'd prove to them that he deserved to be here. Yet, at the expense of being in a harem. It wasn't...unnatural. Most of his kind either stayed in their family band until they found someone they liked or their parents decided for them, or were proposed to and taken into a harem. It wasn't even strange to take someone his age. At his age, it was all about protection to be in a harem. Instead of everyone fighting on trying to get to one future mate, you had a stronger kelpie who watched over them, protected them, made sure they survived till they were able to grow up, become of age, and go to the pumpkin patch to expand their clan. It also kept all the rowdy, younger kelpies from killing each other with fighting. You saved that for these festivals. Made challenges for taking in available members into your own harem or you fought for one that was already in one. Nothing was really permanent, but with Murchadh, being one of the stronger, Calder pretty much knew anyone dumb enough to challenge him wouldn't win. He would say with him for a while, and if he became of age in that time....................
It was either be with Murchadh or be kicked out of his clan.
HIs eyes moved to his mother, who was watching the water. "Mo-"
"It's starting." She whispered, pointing her chin towards the river.
Turning, he looked up and noticed the small, blue lights in the water as baskets of runic floresce were released into the Devon, their electric-blue fins illuminating the waves as they moved about. Lights in the ripples that glowed and dimmed.
"This is my favorite part..." She whispered, and he looked to the water, and listened to the water as the little lights danced in the dark.
He felt his heart twist to think that his mother would be alone next year to watch it. She never liked watching the runic floresce release on her own. She always wanted someone. It was the only time his mother ever seemed needy for someone that it almost made her seem like a little kid. These festivals always brightened her mood, despite how sour the expressions she got when they went to the table to eat. Despite the fact that, if anyone knew what she brought to eat at the pot luck, they would knock it over on purpose or not touch it at all. Even when she barely got a chance to talk to her siblings, and of course only the few that would want to talk to her. Her brothers chattered from time to time, came for visits, but Calder didn't know his relatives all that much. She talked about them, and he wondered if she wished that he could meet and talk to them on his own.
Ever since he was little, he wished they could all merge into a bigger band and be close to many kelpies.
If he was with Murchadh, they'd come to the festivals, and he'd ask to stay with his parents. That way he could sit with her when they released the runic floresce. It wouldn't be like it was here and now, but at least they could still enjoy it together. Murchadh would let him do that, right?
He moved closer to her, nuzzling against her side, and they watched the lights together, quietly, until the last of the little fish drifted down the river, in the dark.
"Come. It's late." She whispered, and they got up, and walked back to camp together. Calder found a spot beside his father, and didn't bother to shift, instead laying on his side. His dad had passed out and was still in humanoid form, and Calder watched as he laid on his back, breathing heavy with his mouth wide open. His mother picked the other side and curled her hand around her husband. It was quiet, and Calder felt he could sleep here, and preserve this moment forever.
He tried. He tried to dedicate the full picture to memory as he watched them, took in their familiar scent of what he grew up with. Overhead, the clouds rolled, and the first drops of rain started to come down.
It was pouring by the time he got up and headed back to the bank at the expected our. Calder almost didn't see him in the dark curtain of rain, but found him standing there, a small floresce in his hand, flapping. The eclectic blue glow danced in the stallion's frost eyes.
"Did you think about it?" Despite the hard rain, his deep voice came out loud and clear.
"Can't I have more time?" Calder asked, moving closer, not carrying well.
"Make a decision. You don't need any more time." He looked over to him, and tossed the fish in the water, watching it swim away. It was good luck to catch one. He wondered what wish the kelpie had made, or if he was the type to wish for anything, to have anything to wish for, or even if he believed in childish superstitious like lucky fish.
"I...I'll do it. I'll be in your harem is you put in a good word for me. I want to be in the clan!"
At first he wondered if the stallion heard him, and was about to repeat, before the older kelpie turned to him. "Good. I'll talk to them."
He turned, and didn't say anything more. Calder watched him go, and looked out to see the tiny light of the little fish dive deep into the water....and his heart sank with it.
........................................... By mid morning, the rain had stopped, and Calder swam with his parents for an early breakfast. Groggy, he only ate down a handful of greens and half a glass of cattail juice. His parents said very little to him and chalked his quietness and lack of sleep to nervousness instead of the guilt and worry of what today may bring. On one hoof, he was very relieved to have someone as high ranking as Murchadh take an interest in him, and any other time, he would have been been happy to have such a great recommendation. To have caught the eye and felt worthy enough to keep in the clan was a blessing, but it was the price of it that bothered him the most. He hadn't really put much consideration into the future as after what he'd do once he got into the clan. He vaguely felt he'd be in a bachelor band until he was able to claim someone for his very own. To fall in love, just like his parents, and have a little pond of his own. Of course, falling in love with someone in a harem hadn't been out of the question, but that was the qualifier. Love. Even as sudden as this, it lacked all the romance he read about and signed many a time over in daydreams. While most would find any kelpie very attractive, Murchadh lacked a lot of what Calder even liked. Older, yes, but maybe a touch too old. He didn't have any horns, which really dropped down points, and wasn't exotic in any way. Not only that, but Calder wasn't even the first in his harem, and would be a added on addition. To be in a harem was traditional, expected, and even at his age, not unheard of. It was ho-hum in joining one, being protected under someone, and once he was of age and felt ready and able, would help their clan by bringing a young one of his own.
It was probably the first time Calder's tail didn't dance at the prospect of a child, and he didn't even have the heart to come up with any names for this future child. The idea of it didn't appeal to him at all.
Much like Murchadh. He could respect and fear him, but as far as that went, the stallion was bland to all the other creatures Calder noticed and smiled slyly at in the halls of Amityville.
What troubled him was that while he made this agreement, he didn't want his parents to know or anyone for that matter. He had been half tempted to play up his sickness and ask his parents to take him home immediately. He even entertained the idea of leaving with his family and ignoring whatever verdict that may come, somewhat hoping that Murchadh had given his good word at helping him get into the clan, and yet didn't have the energy to chase after him to claim him.
However, he knew that if that happened, the stallion could wait till next year or the year after that, or even come after him and work out a proposal out of season. It was been rather improper, but someone of his rank could get away with it. It also troubled him to think that if he escaped and came back the next year since why would he even want to be in the clan if he didn't attend festivals and gatherings of importance, that the older stallion would find some way to get him back. If he could give his good word to get him in, he could serious damage him position by getting him kicked out, and ruin his mothers to get her banished too!
"Don't chew your lip, hun. It ruins your features." His father scolded, making him look up and swallow, before looking back at his plate and resuming his thoughts.
If he got into the clan after the verdict was made, and then declined Murchadh's proposal to be in his harem, he wouldn't have anything to say against it. It wasn't like Murchadh could say he only gave his good word to get Calder in the clan to then snag him. It would hurt his reputation, but it could do even more damage that Calder made such an agreement, and while Murchadh might get a slap on the wrist, he would get booted into the river.
Ohh, he really screwed this up!
He felt a hand against his shoulder and looked up with wide eyes at his father, who smiled and pointed ahead. Turning, his heard nearly dropped down to his hooves at the sight of the judge mare, the one with the sharp features giving out the exam, who approached them, and there, elbow in elbow, was Muchadh.
"Good morning, Ailsa." The mare nodded to his mother and looked to his father and just gave a nod. Finley smiled and nodded back, taking no offense. Used to it.
"Rhona. Your looking positively pale this morning." His mother smiled, and the mare nodded back.
"No need for buttering up. I've had enough of that this early in the day." She looked to the three of them.
His mother smiled and glanced at the stallion beside her. "Murchadh. As hauntingly gorgeous as always. I see you're letting your mane grow out."
Mrchadh smiled, brushing his long, silk black hair over his shoulder. "For the time." He said, his voice somber and not at all chipper. Simple, to the point, and deep. A little too deep for their kind, Calder thought, where most of their voices were rather on the fence in terms of gender.
Knowing what they were waiting for, Rhona wasted no time. "I came to come and speak with you. It seemed that after much deliberation, that we're happy to receive Calder into this clan. Calder..." He froze when addressed, and sank a bit in his seat. "....we hope to see you improve our clan and do little to make us regret that decision."
He nodded, and already felt he was regretting a lot, glancing at the stallion beside her.
Nodding once more, she turned and headed off, no doubt happy to now be able to get a pint for herself now that judging was over. To Calder's disappointment, the stallion didn't go with her.
Calder stared at him, wanting to slink under the table and crawl off back to camp. Instead, his mother, being proper, noticed and continued. "The weather has been nice for this time of year. Wet to the core. I was hoping for flooding. Maybe taking out a few trees. Cause a few mudslides. Maybe destroy a few bridges."
"We can only hope, but it seems promising." Murchadh kept his attention on Calder, glancing to his mother only when he needed to respond.
She seemed to notice, and slowly continued. "At least it didn't keep us from coming here on time.I would have hated for Calder to miss his exam. He can finally relax."
"Ah, yes. Now that everything is settled. Well, just about." Murchadh said, and looked with more purpose at Calder, who was wondering if he could fake a heart attack. Maybe after he had been buried for some time, he could come back and head home without notice.
His mother seemed to be more confused, and watched as the stallion moved over to her son, who was gripping the table edge a tad too tightly. NOW? HE WAS - HOW WAS HE WANTING TO DO THIS NOW??!!!
He JUST got accepted! He wasn't even waiting till the end of the festival!!
Murchadh offered his hand. "Calder."
And in unison, his parents both looked to Murchadh, to his offered hand, and to him. If question marks could appear, they would have.
"Mom....Dad...I...." How did he explain this? That he just up and wanted to be in a harem in the short time he was here without expression no previous desires to do so?
Murchadh noticed the fiddling and moved forward before he took Calder's hand. "Ailsa. Finley. If you'll excuse us."
And with that, he scooped Calder up and threw him over his shoulder. Calder had just enough time to see his parents gape so wide that you could have stuffed a cat in and still have room, before he was turned about and was heading away.
"I ...and you just did that......and didn't even say a thing...!!!" He pressed his hands up against the stallion's broad back and tried to get a good angle to see his face. It didn't exactly work.
"You were going to dally. I'm not waiting around all day, especially for your parents to make a fuss and protest. They have no say in this. You're of age. Your mother has no fillies to worry about. Your dad is not in the clan to represent you. You are in charge of your own decisions by default. As such, you decided. I'm not waiting for you to sputter."
"I wasn't sputtering! I was trying to break it to them!"
"You had all night to do that. I gave you time. It was your bad choice in not telling them sooner."
"I didn't think you'd...you'd just come right now!"
"I don't like waiting." Murchadh nodded at a few passing kelpies who were pausing to stare and see who exactly he was claiming. Flushing, Calder actually noticed that he really WAS being openly claimed and dropped his grip to press his face into the stallion's back. Oh geez. He forgot about this part! EVERYONE was staring!!!
Then again, that was the entire point. You had to show off and make your claim publically and openly. The more witnesses, the better. No shame.
As least not for Murchadh who seemed unaffected by the entire display.
"Show your face. You agreed to this. Own up to your decisions. Stop being a child." the tone made Calder's ears go back and he looked up just to glare. Murchadh glanced over his shoulder to look at him. "Better." He stated, and continued walking.
When Calder imagined this trip around the islands, thrown over some broad shoulder, this was NOT what he had in mind, and he only kept his head up for as much as it took to get a slight glance at him, and felt dizzy from all the blood rushing to his head from the angle and from embarrassment.
"Are we done yet?" Calder whined, twisting some of the fabric of the stallion's shirt as he tried to get his attention.
"Almost. As many members as possible have to see if you they want to challenge me for your claim. I don't want to be seen as a coward or half hearted on my own decision. Be quiet and just look up in case anyone wants to approach."
Calder knew was much, but groaned a bit hearing it. "No one is going to do that." Not only could Murchadh kick anyone's arse if they tried, but it wasn't like anyone was lining up for him.
"Sometimes someone will want something just because it's being taken off the shelf. I dont' want anyone bothering me later." the simple, matter-of-fact way it was said, in which Murchadh seemed to say everything, greatly bothered Calder. Flat and too the point. A business-like monotone that was soft, smooth, but still lacking in tact. It was hard to think of such a nice voice being something you wanted to hear little of.
But no one challenged the stallion on the claim and aside from a few cat calls and mutters, they were done.
On a more secluded bank, Murchadh set Calder down and started to reach into his sporran. Then, kneeling, he pulled out a anklet. "Did you bring much with you?" He asked, reaching over to take a hold of one of Calder's legs.
"No...not really. Wh-what are you doing?" It was a rhetorical question. He very well knew what was happening.
"Your band." He said, and clasped the chain on the boil's leg. "It's only proper." He rose up, and Calder stared at his leg. A chain, to show he was claimed. He turned it to notice the little heart charm. It would have been cute had it come from anyone else, but it must made him feel like a little kid instead. Then again, that was the point. Fitting for someone his age. It would go to a metal loop or clasp when he was much older. The chain was just a holder that said he was in a harem already and was under said protection. In short - back off or face the consequences!
"You'll come with me at the end of the festival. I'll let you sleep with your family, but don't waste your time like you did before."
His head shot up. "That soon? But..I wanted.....I thought I'd have more time."
"For what? You're my ward now. You've had enough time with your parents and your in my band now. Not theirs. If you have anything important at home, I'll send for them. I don't like making too many trips. You can head back home with us."
This was all too quick. He had wanted to just rest after all this mess and go home. He didn't want to leave someplace else. He...he never lived anywhere other than his home and Amityville, and Amityville was really new to him still.
Amityville!
"But I just turned of age. I was going to go on a trip now that I'm allowed. I promised a few friends of mine I'd visit them. I don't want to be a liar."
Murchadh looked at him, expression unmoving and thought about this. "Well talk about it when we are back at my home. Till them, worry about speaking with your parents. If you want, you can sleep with my band when you are ready. Don't take too long. I don't want to keep fetching you for things that you should settle on your own."
With that, he turned and headed away. Done. Just like that.
Calder looked back down at his leg, lifting it up to watch the little heart dangle. "A ball and chain would have been better." He huffed.
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Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 10:05 pm
Chapter 4:
Standing On Your Own The Herd:
Murchadh (Head Stallion - Lead)
Fenella- (Head Mare)
Campbell - (Son of Fenella)
Taggart - (Daughter of Fenella)
MIeriel - (Eldest Mare)
Lachlan - (Stallion)
Mairi - (Daughter of Lachlan)
Greer- (Claimed Stallion - Lost HisSon)
Calder (Claimed Stallion)
Caiter - pure - (Filly - Daughter of Lachlan)
Glen (Filly - Child of Lachlan)
Bruis (Colt - Child of Fenella)
2 children (Unnamed)
A New Band
It was late evening when the festival finished. The leftover food was dumped into the river or collected in napkins and hidden in baskets for the trip back. The music was now a lazy, midafternoon hum as more and more members of the band departed to their own bands, gathering up their new colts and fillies, and helping to pack up. The tents were taken down, and decorations were given away as souvenirs to whoever wanted them, mostly given to small scarlings who darted with tassels and little cut horses tied on their arms. The booze had long since been lapped up, and the barrels were being placed on a raft, set to be cleaned and refilled for the next season. A few bands had already left, and a few more were staying till morning, wary of night travel. It was a sweet, wet morning, carrying the smell of spiced leaves and murky water. A errant basket floated down the river, and Calder watched it pass by on the icy waves of the Devon as he strapped on his belongings.
A warm kiss pressed his brow, and he was nuzzled on both sides. It was the last, no seriously the last one, but maybe just one more, touch, brush, hug, nuzzle, sad smile, proud gleam, conflicting emotions on a parent's face that had happened since he returned back from that walk with the anklet. His parents would return home and unlike his time at Amityville, would know their son was not coming back at the end of the term. They raised him, and he was grown now to be with someone else. As much as he wanted to hold onto their hands and not move, he had made this decision. Crying, whining, and showing he wasn't absolute in that choice would only cause them to feel something was amiss, cause a commotion, and show what deals and lies he had made to get into the clan.
He was a liar, and he had tricked them all. Only he and Murchadh knew that now.
But it was for the best, as he told himself. He could wear his clan colors and make his parents happy, proud, and hopefully opened a larger window of acceptance. He never liked being alone, but he knew that his parents probably didn't like it either.
With one last hug to break his ribs with and a promise to write often, he headed away, moving slowly as he headed to where he knew where Murchadh's campground was. The ground was flooded, the grass sopping wet as he moved through deep puddles and past trampled patches in fields. They were raised to not leave trash aside from what would be washed away and dissolved in a heavy rain. Food was fine, but cloth or paper was collected. You didn't leave trails. With the rain, the signs of their time here would be flattened down by thick droplets and then brushed by fall winds and the drier season.
Murchudh's band was far larger than what he expected, as most bands didn't go beyond 12 members. Most ranged to a nice 6-8, but Murchadh had done well and his band showed it, expanding to a whopping 14 members, Calder now included. Despite being in the festival, he was tolerated and in no way IN a group of any type. Not even the few kelpies with one hoof out of the clan thought themselves low enough to bother with someone who had been outcasted not by choice or principle, but by another's ruling. They at least had enough clan pride left in them to regard his family as such.
He watched them, a group mingled between humanoid and a few already shifted into horse form and working to hitch a small wagon, blankets and other belongings already set atop. Several small children, too young to walk any great distsance, sat and found comfort tangled close to each other. Boils or Ghouls, fillies or colts, it was hard to tell their gender, baby-faced and having short, white hair that spilled about their face and shoulders, smelling like fresh pumpkins. The mares were close by, watching and ordering what needed to be done, and Murchadh watched, looking out, about, and on alert for any signs of trouble. As he did this, he helped wrangle in the smaller children and check to see that their packs were secure before letting them jump and buck about some more, frolicking in the puddles and whipping their manes about. It seemed one had caught a large toad and was thrashing it's muzzle about as it tried to eat it without the other children, who were much older than the recent newborns, tried to claim a leg for themselves.
Being ever alert, they noticed him before he spotted them, and he wished their sense of hearing was more dulled and allowed him to debate on the border of their group for some time. Murchadh took notice, but resumed him duties. "Boil. Come here." Called out a silver-haired mare, her eyes vibrant violet as she regarded him. Head mare. He knew what kelpies to avoid of high rank, and she had been one. Fenella, and the lead of this group. Murchadh might have made a claim, but Fenella had a strong say in what was tolerated in the band as the top dictator of the group. If she rejected Calder, he could go back to his parents, but with a great degree of shame from being unwanted by her.
He moved, ears down and steps cautious as he glanced about the large number of other kelpies. There were so many of them! "What are you carrying?" She asked, looking at his bag.
"Some clothes, some supplies." He muttered, feeling like sinking into the dirt as she moved over and opened his pack, looking through his belongings. "Hmm. These are all rags. Why are you carrying them?"
Calder kept himself from frowning. "They're mine."
"If you want to carry scraps, then you'll carry some blankets as well. Taggart, put some blankets up when he drops on fours. We need to adjust the weight." She looked back at the cart, moving over to toss a blanket over the scarlings and then placing some cargo about them. "Be careful as you move, Lachlan. We can't have them rolling out and getting trampled." She called to the mare being hitched to the cart who shook her head to try and shake off a persistent dragonfly.
Taggart, a sturdy stallion boil that made Calder a tad weak in the knees, shared the same violet eyes as his mother, and with a bored expression, walked over with some knitted blankets. "Well." He said with a deep, monotone voice.
"Ah...Oh. Right." Calder shifted, landing on his fours and feeling embarrassed to be around a boil with full black hair. Not even bothering to give two flicks of his tail, he dumped the blankets on his back, checked to see they would stay on, and then walked away, shouting ahead. "GLEN! BRUIS! CAITER! We're heading out! Swallow it or spit it out and tell your friends goodbye." He shouted, as much as any older brother might, and went to shoulder his own pack. After some more shouting and wrangling of small children, everyone was soon on all fours and shouldering their own packs. Fenella took the lead, looking back and making sure the rest surrounded the cart, and Calder looked about before he felt a nudge against his flank.
"Near the children in the back. Let the mares watch you." Murchadh said, his eyes ghostly white and body deep, oil black as he took the rear.
"With the kids?" Calder said, surprised that he was even being pushed on the young colts and fillies. If he was old enough for this Jackin anklet, then why couldn't he watching with he rest of the elder kelpies. "You'll be watching the children from behind with us." He turned his head to a black stallion close beside them, who was looking at the ground and being quiet, long, twisted hair and small braids hanging down from his face, partially hiding a vacant expression. If Eyeore was around, he might have turned in the towel.
Relieved to at least be with the other mares, he joined in formation, and with a last check to make sure everything was picked up and everything accounted for, not to mention a few hard nips to Bruis for biting his sister's hair, they set off.
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Greer's Mourning
They walked for several days in quiet, and Calder spoke little. The children talked, but eyed him every once in a while. they couldn't fall back to talk, and as duty dictated, they all had their place and their responsibility. The young ones in the center, elderly close by, Lead mares up front, and stallions in back, alert and on the watch. All points were covered, and the purpose of the herd, to protect by numbers and the collection of many eyes, many ears, and if necessary, many hooves and teeth. The closest person he had near him was Greer, a somber-faced stallion who hadn't looked up once since starting. Murchadh wasn't much of a talker, not that Calder WANTED to talk to him, and the rest of the mares ahead of him were nothing but rear ends and flicking tails. Taggart had been listening to his eyepod until Murchadh noticed a hour in and nearly ripped his ear off for it. It was now in his pack and the older boil was moody, making Calder smile to know that someone else hated the lead stallion.
Their breaks were short, and the children were given, at certain points, a chance to take turns resting in the cart with the smaller scarlings. It was times like this, under the heavy weight of wet blankets and his pack, that he wished he was younger. While he was used to traveling, he was usually talking to keep his mind occupied and this trail was less familiar to him, making him more alert and paranoid. It was with great relief that hours laters, they came to a halt and he breathed out. "Finally." He was ready for another break, though Murchudh seemed very alarmed they were stopping. With a grunt, he nudged Greer. "Watch the back." He told him, and moved ahead to meet with Fenella who came moving beside them. Easing ahead a bit, Calder craned his neck to listen.
"Probably the heavier rainfall this year that shoved them this far."
"We can go further ahead."
"The current is quicker there. We have a cart this time with scarlings. We'll take this way. I don't want to make a detour.Greer..." Murchadh sighed, looking troubled. "...will understand."
Turning, Murchudh walked back, looking at Greer and moving close to brush his cheek against the other stallion and whisper into hsi ear. The noise that came out was as if a sudden pain had stabbed the stallion in his stomach, and he leaned back, head up, ears down, and eyes closed. "Noo. Noo." He whined, the long, drawn out noise of a horse in pain.
"Greer. Greer. Greer. Listen to me. Listen." He moved closer to him, and coraled the stallion to keep from backing up too far. "We're walking past. Stay to the outer side. There is no need for you to look. We have to cross. You understand. Come. I'll be behind you. Calder. Stay beside Greer." He ordered, making the smaller stallion jerk to attention.
"Uh...Okay." Rather unsure, he moved up to Greer who seemed to be shaking a gnat out of his head that wouldn't leave him be. The mares were already moving, the wooden wheels of the cart squeeking as it moved up towards a branch of the Devon. It wasn't swift or deep here, but the large rocks and boulders created pools all about before rising up to make a rock bridge for them. Luckily it was wide enough to let the cart cross, but the gaps allowed water to pass over freely. It was the smell first that he took notice. Not the soft, ripe smell of pumpkins that made him think of newborn scarlings, but of rotten, heated pumpkins left to the extremes to fume in the open.
Calder's ears went back and his shoulders hunched as he looked up ahead. Small bits of pumpkin flesh floated in the water. Unhatched kelpies. Calder turned to look at Greer, noticing him close his eyes and shake his head, before looking back at the river. Every year, the pumpkins were placed in the flooded pools around the Devon on soft banks of smooth pebbles and sand, and watched over. And every year, they hatched from their pumpkins. The parents could only watch over them when they were in their shell, but once they got out, they were on their own until they could step out of the pond and onto the shore. Some only got out partially, dragging themselves in the wrong direction, and that's when the current took them.
They moved slowly, the children amazed as the floating chunks of heavy pumpkin bits floating under the water, barely visible and yet holding pale, strange shapes too far away, too hidden in the deep pools, to notice. Small fish darted about, eating the orange flesh. The clacks of hooves and the wobbling cart was the only sounds as they walked, the river licking by their heels. Calder kept his head down, but then noticed a small piece of pumpkin lodged in the rocks. He tried not to notice it, and looked over to Greer who had gone quiet, eyes wide and wet. They passed, and didn't say anything till nightfall.
At camp, they found a spot between some trees and flatterened the grass before settling down, only tossing aside their packs and still on fours, making a circle. Little scarlings against the mares, with the young children in the center, guarded. Greer just slightly outside the other stallions, close enough to keep Murchudh from yelling at him at the dangers of being too far out, but alone. Calder looked to the groups. He didn't know the mares, having yet to talk to them, and Taggart had only blowed through his nose roughly when he eased near him.
No one talked, and he sat alone, curling in and sighing. As much as he wanted to be in a big herd, he felt more alone. He threw a blanket over his back, enjoying the cold dampness, but found it impossible to rest. The trees rustled. A few frogs croaked. Something shrieked in the background, and a few twigs snapped. Typical background noises but all of them remained in half sleep, never truly resting heavily while still traveling. Eyes heavy but brain full, he watched Greer. His large eyes hadn't closed, and they glistened in the light of the orange moon. It reminded him of the river, and Calder rose his head up. Murchudh was a ways off, standing and watching as he took his post to watch over everyone for his watch.
Rising, Calder glanced up to see that the Lead Stallion took notice, of course, but when he noticed him moving towards the other stallion, turned his attention away. The young kelplie trotted close by, head low as he approached. While Greer had not made any sigh of aggression, he didn't look very right in the head either. "Greer.....right?" He asked, trying to show his rank by keeping his eyes down and whispering as to not wake anyone.
The stallion slowly rose his head, looking up. He said nothing.
"Can I lay beside you?" He asked, looking to the vacant spot beside the stallion's large, black body. Calder had already noticed how massive the stallion was, with thick, massive legs and many hands taller than he was. The stallion looked to the spot beside him as if judging if it was able to even hold another creature, and then looked to him as if he had just noticed him as being real and not a figment, and nodded.
Easing beside him, he leaned on his front legs before bending down and laying beside the stallion, not too close but no less than a foot away. Greer watched him settle before looking back to the spot of grass in front of him. It tore at Calder to see him look that way.
"I'm sorry....about what happened." Of course Calder hadn't heard how or what, but even he could make an educated guess.
"I've never had a child. You'd think I'd be used to it now, since nothing has changed." Calder was startled to hear him, but turned his ears to listen. The man's voice was deeper than most, a trait that most kelpies would see as a downside considering they excelled better in fear gathering when their voice was neutral. To Calder, it as refreshing if not pleasant on the ears. Deep, hot, and warm, like dark tea.
"But holding that pumpkin, that child, for a year. To see just a glimpse of it as it broke out, it made me excited and happy.......and then......." Greer stopped, lowering his head and letting hsi hair fall. It was awkward, but he watched the stallion shake, still coming to terms. For someone physically strong to be wrecked to such a state, Calder knew that it must have taken many kelpies to hold the father back from jumping into the river to save it's child. That alone would have not been allowed. That alone would have gotten him and the child forced out. The river had made it's decision. If someone saved it and went against it, then the child would have been forced out to starve. Either way, it wouldn't have made it.
"I heard....that when I was born, that some of the Leads wants to take me and snap my neck...because of my dad." Calder whispered back. He didn't know how it would make him feel happier. It was just something he wanted to share.
Greer looked back up, face glistening wet as he looked to the boil. "I do not wish a loss of a child on anyone. Not even your mother. I hope that when you are of age, that it never happens." To which he looked at the anklet still visible on Calder's leg. The stallion turned his head back to regard the grass once more, and Calder settled in a little closer. He had always wanted children. It was a duty that all kelpies were encouraged to do. Their numbers were growing smaller, but he would have wished that their traditions would have changed a bit to be more merciful. To let all their scarlings live and not have such tests before they were fully born. He worried now, about what he would do if that happened to him.
A heavy weight rested on his back, and he turned to see Greer's head resting atop it. "Rest boil." The stallion ordered, and Calder nodded, tucking his head in and closing his eyes. He doubted he'd get much sleep.
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