[p]carry[e][r]on[y][t][o]home[n]

[Soul Music]

she's walking

Each hoof beat was like a crack of thunder. The wind whipped around the chestnut stallion's mane as he walked through the dark terrain. His ears were pricked up, listening for any sound except the thrash of the wind. Above that there was nothing. Except the smell. The smell of another stallion, as sharp as the smell of a storm coming. Yet the handsome chestnut who walked through the lands that weren't his own had no care for this other stallion. No doubt he would arrive in due course. A stranger stallion in ones land was not one to leave alone. He wouldn't leave it to chance.

Peryton shook back his long silken forlock. His flame brown bodice shone in the light as he tossed up his head, snorting when his front hooves landed from the half-rear. He was a wanderer, a stranger to each land. He wasn't welcomed in most land and didn't like to stay in most for too long. He came, he disrupted, he left. His wake was like a destruction trail, yet none were traced. He'd been blessed with the muscles for a fight. He could beat horses in a cross country or a flat race. He was a runner by nature, a runner by physical experience. He was just a runner. He didn't care what they thought. He looked after his own. Mahogany eyes glittered as the stallion broke into a elegant canter, covering ground with his long legs even if he wasn't using any effort.

and he's walking behind

[Mayaka]

He continiue to observe his lands with a sort of dark pride. His banner flicked in the air killing pests that landed on his pelt . The wind picked up and he caught an unnerving scent . The scent if another brute . A dark snort came from his mouth as he reared his front daggers sailing through the air as he turned quickly , his daggers landed in the dune with
a thud as he made his way toward the scent . His muscles rippled under his lean but dangerous frame and he propelled through the sand like it was solid ground. The white stockings on his legs making a deafening contrast to the obsidian sands through which he was now traveling through. He caught sight of the brute , and his impatience sent him forward . He soon caught up to the brute , his orbs analyzing him as he spoke in a dark hiss
,"and who are you to be venturing in my lands , brute ,". His thorns bent back slightly in irritation as they continiued to listen for others that would dare intrude on his lands.

[Soul Music]

Peryton caught the sound of approching hooves and he lazily turned his head in thier direction. Dark eyes watched the approching brute, leaning back on three pillars as the forth was balanced on the tip. He turned fully to watched the stockinged stag approch. He was a large animal, about the same size as Peryton himself, although it was obvious he was the leader of the lands. Peryton's ears flicked back and forth, usually having one forward and one back to listen to any other sound that was out there. However, there were three horses in the land now. Himself, the stag and his slave girl. The reason he'd come.

His question was blunt and the one Peryton had been expecting.
"I come only to give you something. I only wish to pay some respect to another brute. I offer you a slave."
The slave was a pretty little thing he'd taken from her herd when she was only young. She was a good little thing when asked to do work, yet could react and had a tounge to match her annoyance. She'd taken a good few lashes at him in his time and she definatly had spirit. It was his...gift to Nicholae. He glanced behind him to where his shadow met that of the pretty black mare with the bright green eyes watched him with disgust.