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 Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 2:01 pm
 There had been eleven stallions following her out along the best lead this morning. Around noon, a heated disagreement had turned to blows between them. She had warned these same two about in-fighting before, especially around perilous areas such as clifftops. Disobedience had its consequences: only nine had left her to find grazing for the evening.
Clytaemnestra stopped in the shade of a tree, taking the weight off her protesting hind leg with a sigh. They would have been good stallions, the two she'd lost, if they hadn't been such belligerent fools. Doubtless they would have equally silly mares back home who would weep for the loss of them. Quietly she would enjoy breaking the news to the herd - in conjunction with the fact that she had not personally executed them, it would seem to the weaker minded that nature itself did the Commandante's bidding. As for the brighter Nequus among them...well, they would have yet another good reason to feel that she knew best. Fear was a useful tool indeed.
She flexed the muscles around the old injury with an experimental air, gingerly setting her hoof down again and testing it. It twinged. She winced, resting it again and allowing herself a moment of self-pity. Damned thing never had healed properly. Probably never would, either.
Not particularly worried by her solitude, she allowed herself to drift into a peaceful state of meditation. It had been a long and somewhat fruitless day, but she was damned if she was going to let herself be miserable about it. There had been worse days in her lifetime than this. Much, much worse.
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Posted: Sat Mar 24, 2007 3:47 pm
 Storm was getting much better at being a seer. When she'd first began, her skill was considered high, not bone-breaking on every level, but she was a natural, so to speak. Not that she'd had much choice in the matter, the change came without want. She'd chosen to persue seerdom out of ignorance, but it was finally beginning to pay off.
As of yet, long distance communication kept her at bay, and she could not go digging into the meanings of things in peoples minds. For now, only surface thoughts were open to her, and she could send thoughts to a very few. Lucius and Melantho, to be exact. Scratch that, Lucius and Sereva, she must remember the name she gave for the mare.
Even now the memory sent the golden's teeth grinding. She did not appreciate the leap her heart made, or the overwhelming sense of energy that suddenly overwhelmed her brain. Whether it was a bit of Sereva still clinging to her bones and toying with her mind in poetry, or if real feelings had start to form, Storm wished not to find out. Control was something she simply could not lose.
A distinct movements sent all thoughts from her mind, for the time being. There, only moments away lay that horse she'd warned herself to keep from.
Clytaemnestra.
In the end, her curiousity had won her over, and she found herself listening to the whispers of the wind, getting no sleep as she lay awake catching those that spoke. For a long time, there had been nothing, then she'd catch conversations, and sometimes thoughts. She'd been thrown of course, but quickly jumped back on track again.
Now she was soaking up the knowledge of another from a small distance. It was faint, and only the most aggravated of feelings could be picked up, but it was enough for Storm to know it was the one she searched for, and what the mare thought of herself. It was interesting, to say the least.
Unfurling her white wings she leapt lightly from the cliff-top on which she'd been standing, stirring the air to stay aloft. She stayed above on the thermals for a time, content to watch, before she dropped, to the earth a good distance away. She made sure she was visible to the mare, and then went out of sight.
If Clytaemnestra was intrigued, she would follow Storm to where she met the earth, and if she was not, Storm would take the honors of indroduction herself.
Head lowered, ears towards the ground she listened for the mental stir in the air. There did not seem to be many creatures about, perhaps Clytaemnestra was more well known than Storm had previously imagined.
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Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 11:03 am
The rush of air overhead was enough to catch Clytaemnestra's attention. Raising her head, the Commandante caught sight of a gilded Nequus soaring past - an unfamiliar shadow was cast briefly across the ground before it swooped out of sight. She frowned. What had that been? Some form of crossbreed, surely, for though the wings were Reya-Aeri the build was far too light for either. She might have passed it off as a malnourished Reya if it had not been for the tail. Hairs. Not a normal Reya, if Reya it was.
Curiosity piqued, she gave her injured leg one last stretch and trotted leisurely in the direction the shape had flown. It would be landing soon - and there, there it was, touching down gossamer-lightly upon the grass. A mare. A crossbreed - Ichsa horn, Reya wings, Jala feathers lingering here and there. Clytaemnestra was impressed, though only mildly so: in her experience, half-blooded Nequus seldom came out looking so good.
"Good evening," she said in a low, calm voice, approaching in a manner that did not at all disguise her permanent limp. She did not feel at all threatened by such a slight creature, and had no desire to keep up any pretence. "Take care where you graze, stranger; my soldiers are not the most disciplined of stallions, and a form as fine as yours will doubtless catch their eyes if you stray too close to them."
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Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 5:07 pm
Storm's eyes sparkled as the other's approached. Clearly her legend had not yet reached the ears of some, one of these being Clytaemnestra. Her interest was sparked further by the relaxed demeanor the other provided.
Storm had thought her beauty had washed with the feathers of her birthplace, but clearly she had been wrong. First Sereva, now this Nestra giving her a warning. Perhaps she had an advantage over the world yet. Catching her thoughts, she scolded herself for so quickly drifting back to her old ways. She could read minds now - she had all the power she needed.
Slight though she may have been, she was still tall and well muscled, and felt to reason to fear the stallions. Perhaps it was something left from her youth that promoted foolishness and hard-heated challenge. She'd have battled them to the death in her younger years, just to prove a point - but now she could use wits instead, and fleeing could be seen as a ploy instead of cowardice.
"I'll take the warning," she said, throwing over her camouflage, taking the time to assess the other before her, lightly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The limp would give Storm an advantage if a fight occured, but the many years of relaxation left her sorely out of practice. Storm didn't think any fights would occur in this day and age.
"Tell me," she asked softly, her eyes shifting in and out of vision. "How did the two stallions die exactly, Clytaemnestra?"
It shouldn't be too long for the nerves to shift, for clearly, Storm was fearful, but she told herself in some way she was protecting Sereva.
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 2:01 pm
Having a total stranger know her name was not surprising. What caused Clytaemnestra to stop in her tracks was the mention of the two deaths: had this half-breed seen the bodies? Even if she had, surely a newcomer could not have known that the dead stallions had been under her command. Perhaps she was just guessing. It made little odds, though.
"...There is something uncommon about you, stranger," she said, slowly and levelly. "I do not know how you stumbled upon the fact that I lost two of my company today, and nor do I care to know. My answer is this: they fell from the cliff edge, there, by the coast." A gesture with a single muscular tail. "If you have seen the bodies, you will realise that the impact killed them both at once. As to why they died...that is simple. Had they obeyed my orders and stayed back from the edge - instead of scuffling there like colts over some matter of foolish pride - they would now be grazing with their company, alive and well. As it was, their duel was too much for the weak ground. The very earth crumbled beneath their hooves."
She remembered standing some distance away, hearing the rumble, calling uselessly to them, catching the tail of a third stallion in her teeth to prevent him charging after them when they fell. It was a brave thing to think of rescuing a friend at the risk of one's own life, but a foolish impulse to fling oneself into such a hopeless situation.
"They were still fighting as they fell to their deaths," she finished solemnly. "Such is the reward of the belligerent and proud."
Like Melantho, her mind added silently, and she winced imperceptibly. Perhaps she wouldn't go that far - the black mare was a little arrogant, a little given to hitting first and asking questions later, but not so stupid as to fight at a cliff edge. Or so she hoped. Despite that she had orders to kill Melantho if she would not return to the herd, Clytaemnestra genuinely wished for her former protege's survival.
She hoped it would never come to a toss-up between duty and feeling. That, she knew, could only end badly.
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 4:14 pm
Storm bit her tongue, pretending it was a guesture of apprehension rather than an attempt not to burst out laughing. The minds of others were so fruitful that it almost brought tears to her face. This one not as quick to realize as many, but it allowed Storm to compose herself once again. Perhaps the Reya had not noticed the golden's usage of her name, or thought that everyone knew of something. Afterall, with Sereva shouting it about, how could anyone not?
For Melantho's sake, Storm now refered to her only as Sereva in mind and in words. She was certain that after a time she would forget the previous name of the black. She knew full well that she was not the only seer to walk the earth, and as long as she believed that the black's name was Sereva and only looked at her on rare occassions, Storm could consider the mare safe. If there ever was another seer, no doubt Clytaemnestra would take full advantage of the situation, promising whatever greeds she could to harvest what lay in that mind.
Storm clucked and shook her head, "Please, its Storm. No need to stay strangers, for strangers don't know a thing of one another. I, uncanny though it is, am a stranger to no one." She liked her little twist, and thought Sereva might place it better, but she shouldn't be thinking about the black, for she had to remain distant as much as possible.
She recalled the flashing image now, soaking a bit to dramitically into the mind of Nestra. It caused her to stumble back a few feet. The reflexes on Clytaemnestra must have been amazing to act so quick. If there was a fight between them, Clytaemnestra would certainly win, injury or not, and that was a belief Storm was willing to stick with for the time being. She tried to cover it up, but it was clear something invisible had distrupted her balance, and though it might be passed as insanity, most would see it for what it was.
She grinned. "I guess the secrets out?" Not that she had been trying very hard to keep it in.
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 4:41 pm
The flinch, the stumble back, just at the moment of a particularly sharp thought, was enough to make Clytaemnestra catch on. Well, well. A Seer. So why had she needed to ask any questions? Why not take the information from the source without so much as a by-your-leave? That way there would be no need to reveal her talent, and the hidden advantage would have remained with the half-breed. Surely that much was obvious. The Commandante returned the grin, feeling as though she were in the presence of a neophyte. "Out?" she echoed, her tone half way to laughter. "And how! Rather careless of you to reveal your seerdom, Miss Storm, I must say - how would it be if I had some talent for concealing my thoughts, and began to bewilder you once I knew what you were? And given you are a Seer, and must know who and what I am, you are remarkably trusting to think that I will not...or simply remarkably confident that I cannot."
She couldn't, of course. It is remarkably difficult not to think about pink Jalas when someone tells you not to do so - and likewise difficult to keep from thinking about something you do not wish a Seer to know. Clytaemnestra's usual tactic was to keep sensitive information from fools who might stumble upon such creatures. Clearly this would be useless at this point, and, had she been superstitious, the Commandante would have thanked her lucky stars she had nothing to hide.
"Have you seen her, then?" she asked, knowing she need not name the black mare she sought. "The sooner I find her the better - she will be far safer back with the herd. Her father is no fool, but he can be manipulated if one plays to his weaknesses. Perhaps I ought to have taught her that before he began to think of finding her a partner."
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 4:56 pm
"Why yes, it was rather careless of me, now wasn't it?" Storm replied with a grin, clearly not impressed with Nestra's blatent statements. Had she wished to stay hidden, it would be something easily done.
"Besides, there is nothing about you I wish to learn, and not everyone is highly adept in keeping their thoughts at bay. Someone is bound to slip." She paused. "We're a superstitious lot, you see, and just the thought of someone prying into your mind is enough to make most Nequus quiver." It certainly made her ancy to think that there were other, more powerful seers in the world, perhaps watching her every move and laughing at her poor skills in the matter. She gritted her teeth and took a mental scan, but could find nothing, not that her range was particularily far.
Seen who? was the answer Storm desperately wanted to give. Whatever she told the mare, she'd have to do it quickly or any answer could be seen as a lie.
"I'm not so sure she's inclined to be with the herd," Storm answered, her face darkening. "She's a free spirit and whether she's under the control her father or not, the mere thought of pretending to be would, no doubt, break her." Or, at least, that was what Storm had seen. Youthful ignorance, yes, it was true, but Storm would have thought the same way.
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 6:23 pm
Was Storm attempting to mock her? Unmoved, Clytaemnestra looked the golden Seer in the eye as she spoke. "You will find me singularly difficult to frighten," she said coldly, "and equally difficult to dissuade from my task. What Melantho wants must submit to what she needs, and what she needs is guidance. She is young, brash, quick to anger, slow to think ahead, lacks experience. If the world is only unkind to her, she will be fortunate indeed. Back in the herd she is safer, and her father cannot rule forever. All Nequus must learn patience."
She herself had been no exception. How long had she followed orders, tried to prove herself among the stallions, before the herd leader had noticed her and promoted her to officer? How many nights had she endured the taunting of the soldiers, all for a limp and a battle scar they could not see? Patience had paid off for her - she had seen her vengeance taken tenfold for their thoughtless words.
"Her father is a born dictator," she continued, "and often a heartless brute. To him, she is nothing but a problem. He sent me forth to solve her. I do not see things his way, and nor will I be forced to do so. Black coat or no black coat, ill temper or no ill temper, with or without that smart-mouthed pet of hers, she is not just an issue to be handled. She was my protege, my first and only true student among endless ranks of subordinates. I have invested too much in her life to let her be dealt with in the manner her father wishes!"
The memory rose unbidden to the front of her mind, but when she caught sight of it the Commandante dragged it further into focus - Casa Tiner, night, moonlight barely visible through the blanket of cloud, a tiny voice sobbing out pitiful cries of despair - she gritted her teeth - cold snowdrifts around her legs, the wind howling in her ears - she shivered - and there, a small black face, tear-streaked and terrified, the whites of its eyes clearly showing - and a filly's trembling body pressed close to hers all the hard way back down the slopes. Melantho had been foolish then, lost in her helpless grief. Was it any wonder that she should think her foolish now, absorbed as she must be in her self-righteous anger?
"She has so much potential, Storm," the patched Reya said quietly, her calm tones returning as she opened her eyes. "So much potential. I was her protector once, and I must be that again. Must be. I will not stand by and see her so easily trampled into nothing, either by undeserved cruelty..." And here, as she offered the alternative, she gave Storm a meaningful look. "...or by ill-timed kindness."
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2007 3:50 pm
"I highly doubt my interest lies in frightening you," Storm said, and the next statement left her fuming. Storm often got angry, warning others to stay away, but most of the time it took a great deal of pushing to get her there. If they stayed their distance and kept their respect, all was normal.
Her ears were now pinned with Nestra's words, teeth gritting together. She didn't need to be preached to, and certainly by another. How Melantho had ever fallen spell to such a Nequus, she could not know, but it didn't sound like the black was the only brash one around here.
"It sounds to me," Storm said cooly, regaining her composure. "That you long for the past, and for a child once to weak to take care of herself. You need to let go, Nestra, and stop chasing someone else's dreams." Perhaps Storm was speaking to much for Sereva, but to her, the only fool among them was this mare in front of her, trying to dictate anothers life.
If death comes to someone to foolish to see it, so be it.
"Never the less, if I see her again, I'll tell her, but it is up to her to make that descision, for you are, at the moment, a worse figure than her father," Storm finished decidely, turning her body to go, back to the skies, and hopefully towards wherever Sereva was. This was nasty business, and reading minds or no, Storm wasn't sure about Clytaemnestra, she was a dangerous breed.
Sometimes you can love too much.
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 10:29 am
Oh, now this was pushing it. The Commandante pinned her ears back, but her gaze, though chill, was level and calm. "Don't get familiar with me, Storm," she warned. "And don't you dare take that condescending tone. You know too little of this matter, mind-reading or no, to make any measured judgement. Herd-born children let loose too soon die. I've seen it more times than I care to recount."
Images of lone Nequus battered to death by rival herds flickered through her mind. Too many, and too many like Melantho in body and years. All were too young or too old to defend themselves, and all would have been spared if they had stayed with the herd.
Shaking the images off, the patched Reya continued. "I don't know if you know how old she is - I should say how old she isn't. In our herd, she's not considered old enough to be entertaining stallions. Her father rushed to find her some other master, not much caring how well or badly it went for her. If I'd known what he'd been planning I'd've stopped him."
Letting the herd leader have so much control over his daughter had been a slip on her part, but it was one she wasn't afraid to admit to.
"If Melantho is still alive," she said firmly, "she's survived on a mixture of good lessons half-learned and sheer dumb luck. As far as I'm concerned she's not ready for this kind of escapade, and until I see any evidence to the contrary I'll continue as I am. Anyone who tries to prevent me will be treated as an enemy. My enemies - and I hope this is crystal clear - do not tend to live long."
With that, she turned and walked away at a steady pace. "You've come out well for a half-breed, Storm," she called back over her shoulder. "Don't turn into my problem, there's a good girl. I'd hate to have to solve you."
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Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2007 5:13 pm
No one called her good girl and got away with it, it was simply not something that she did.
"Oh my dear Clytaemnestra, I will make sure your life is a living hell," she whispered between her teeth, pumping her wings and preparing to take the air. Nestra certainly couldn't be found guilty, but her stallions would be all to weak to the world, and Storm had one thing that she didn't think Nestra did at that moment. Sereva's favor.
Storm wanted to laugh it all off, but she simply couldn't, and so she'd watch her back, and plot ways to make the end of Nestra. Forge alliances, mark fear through seerdom, whatever it took.
She would tell Sereva exactly what Nestra had said, and if the black changed her ways, power to the Commandante, but Storm doubted she would, and if that was the case, she would be Sereva's heard, and Nestra could damn well go ******** herself in the corner of some cliff.
She remembered now why she hated most Nequus. They were all blery fools. ******** them all.
With an angry snort she broke into a gallop, streaming by Clytaemnestra and taking to the air, on a search for something to take out her anger.
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