Hiding [in the Dark Cave] (Isis)

[Nevaeh]

Nevaeh
Beyond the Shyness


My battered legs had kept running faster and faster my legs were so sore and tired, but I was not stopping not anywhere not anywhere near that horrible place, I really which I hadn’t gone down there, but I had to keep my promise to my queen. light tanned colored hooves crossed the border and onto some sandy place, my ice blue orbs then looked around at the beautiful land I shook my head lightly causing my chestnut and white mane to swish either side of my neck, letting it get tangled together to match the rest of my battered body.

I then saw what I was looking for, a dark place to hide. Slowing my pace down to a nice two beat trot over towards a lovely dark cave area, walking into the dark black, I then lowered my battered chestnut and white pinto mustang body towards the ground. I turned my crown to look at the wound he had just given me on my stomach, That is going to hurt later, letting out a sigh after I had heard that. He isn’t getting involved this time!

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[`* isis]

•_••^•• i s i s •^••_••

r u s s i a n r o u l e t t e i s n o t t h e s a m e w i t h o u t a g u n

the light filtered down the canopy of bare branches with a kind of etheral grace, casting a spiders web of blackened shadows that criss-crossed the ground in a brilliant display of interwoven ebony ribbons. through these shadows drifted an equine with ebon and pearl splashes to match those of the shadows and the bare ground, seemingly floating upon the ghost of a breeze that whistled quietly through the deplorably empty limbs of the sleeping tree like an earthbound goddess. adding to the illusion were the profuse feathering that obscured the hard, shiny horn of her hooves in their abundance, giving the impression of flying rather than merely walking. this graceful being had no destination, and her wandering was out of habit rather than of boredom, for this aimless, habitual roaming was a central part of the gypsy vanner mare, the very thing that had lead isis to the delosate lands of midnight acres. her dark mocha orbs raked across the land in front of her, taking in the bare trees whose branches seemed to reach out of the earth and toward the sky like skeletal hands from the underworld, the small shrubs that dotted the vast expanse of terrain as regularly as if someone had planted their roots into the moist soil, and the undulating, equally wild and bleak hills that stretched out before her, almost endless in its area like the universe itself. a hit of gold -bright against the monotones of brown, grey and black that colored the rest of the geography- caught her attention, her auds flicking forward with interest as she pondered, for an impossibly short moment, whether or not to investigate this vestige of color that didn't fit in with its surrouding grey-scale landscape.

a spike of curiousity drove her pinions faster and her pace increased from a lazy trot to an energetic canter. her lungs expanded like bellows to feed the want for oxygen that pulsed in her chest, the air swirling into her chest cavity with surprising speed along with the various scents that it carried. a new scent, that of a mare, alerted isis to the presence of another, her nared flaring reflexively to catch more of the smell, to trace it to its source. her legs sped up of their own accord, veering off course to follow the scent. almost immediately, the terrain morhped into that of sandy beaches, and the sound of waves lapping at the shor hungrily reached her pricked ears on the tendrils of the wind. so this had been that blotch of gold among the greys of the dead forest. hoofprints, thrown into greater relief by the sinking sun's golden rays, were evident in the ripples of the sand. she followed the prints, a curous glint deep in her optics, to the gaping mouth of a cave, wherein stood the battered mare whose scent had lead isis to this place.

surprised as she was, she hurtled to a stop, her knees suddenly locking on sight. the wounds that marked the small mare's bodice screamed of danger, and the metallic scent of blood mixed with grimy sea air, turned her stomach into frightened flips. though she was not a coward, isis was naturally cautious of the mare, even though this new mare was so much smaller than her own 16.3 hand, well-muscled frame. her eyes widened sporadically, and her head tilted to one side as her mocha orbs searched for the inflicter of the mare's grevious scars. after a long moment, her search found nothing, and isis found the courage to step toward the alien mare. her vocals rumbled thoughtfully in greeting, and she nodded curtly once, before her sizeable maw parted to allow the words, already formed , out.

hullo. strange to see someone else here; i was under the impression that i was alone here on this stretch of beach. i'm isis; may i know your calling?




a complete waste of time
face the music keeper of the stars - john micheal montgomery
eat your six hundred and fifty lying words

[Nevaeh]

Nevaeh
Beyond the Shyness
Half battered chestnut auds flicked backwards hearing hooves coming into the dark cave. Ice blue orbs then looking towards a very tall ebony and ivory painted fae. I turned my short 15.3 body around some that my rump was nearly touching the back of the cave wall. I listened to the strange mare’s vocals, I was trying not to show that I was scared of taller horses but I knew one thing I was bad at was covering up my emotions. I’m going to do a better job this time at being a mum, but if only I had done it with Renegade shaking my crown sadly as my chestnut and ivory mane made a swish sound either side of my battered neck.
Lifting my white bald face up and off the cave ground, while my very light pink pale maw opened and my sweet but also nervous vocals came out, Hello Isis. I’m Nevaeh, but I’m sometimes know as Nev or Nevvy

I kept my distance a little way from the large tall Gypsy Vanner mare, I just so nervous and scared at this very moment in time, I just wanted to keep myself hidden away from everything in this world. It is true that I do love hearing the waves crashing against the rocks, and being on the sand. It was a beautiful place for some peace and quiet and get away from everything in my life.

[/color]

[`* isis]

•_••^•• i s i s •^••_••

r u s s i a n r o u l e t t e i s n o t t h e s a m e w i t h o u t a g u n

the roar of the waves reached her auds on the ghost of the breeze that tousled her tresses into a wildly tangled cascade. also floating to her constantly swishing ears were the softly spoken words uttered from the chestnut and pearl mare that stood before isis's large frame. she seemed nervous, and the small mare backed away from isis until her rump bumped with a soft thud into the rocky wall of the large wet cave. isis's face softened considerably at this, worried, and slightly guilty, that her appearance had caused this little mare's distress. her nares flared gently, and she lowered her head in a small bob of apology, a flitting of concern in her mocha optics that she kept locked on the other mare's dainty, blood-splotched frame.

hello isis. i'm nevaeh, but i'm sometimes know as nev or nevvy, the mare, whom isis know knew to be nevaeh, said in a sweet, trilling voice, though under the friendly tone of her words, isis detected a faint shimmering of nervousness; the mare's body language was clear enough to display the fact that isis had made her uncomfortable, or, to say boldly, even scared. though isis herself was a very gentle and loving creature, she could not imagine for the world what could have ruined nevaeh's trust and security in her own kind. the way she seemed to disown, even shun, the presence and company of other equines in general spoke volumes of what the little mare had been through in the years of her life. And it didn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. . . unless this particular scientist was uncharacteristically stupid.

it was strange that this mare was scared, not because of the grievous wounds that marked her small chestnut and white body with ghastly red gashes, or of isis's appearance, but rather merely the presence of another horse. even if isis had not been such an immense mare in her size, or in the obvious power that her heavily muscled frame alluded to, if the newcomer had simply been a smaller, weaker horse, undoubtedly nevaeh would have been equally as frightened as she was of isis's presence; the fear in her deep brown eyes attested to that. she had clearly been scared out of her wits by something or other, probably by the same being that had ravaged her appearance so. worry tinged the depths of the huge gypsy's orbs as she thought of the possibilities. So many possibilities that merely isis's mind would not have been able to encapsulate all the plausible ways nevaeh had been wronged in a single sentence. Perhaps a speech would have been of the appropriate length to summarize the suffering and fear and neglect so evident on nevaeh's sculpted face, but anything less than a prodigious monologue would not have been able to come near the true resolution of nevaeh's emotions, so plainly displayed on her face that they may well have been written in black sharpie upon her soft coat for the obviousness with which the popped out even to an unobservant eye.

i am terribly sorry to have taken you so unawares; i hope there is something i can to do better your state? she said, her vocals issuing forth from her parted maw with a soft, carrying tone, an expression of concern on her ebon and pearl painted face, feeling a sliver of guilt to have caused such a lovely mare's fear. She felt very responsible for nevaeh's discomfort, and so felt that it was her duty to at least attempt to alleviate her distress.

a complete waste of time
face the music something in your mouth - nickelback
eat your six hundred lying words

[Nevaeh]

Nevaeh
Beyond the Shyness



Hearing the large ebony and ivory painted fae’s vocals. More talking going on I started to feel a little bit more relaxed I knew that it was not this large fae know as Isis fault, I could not help being scared of other horses taller then me. It did not matter if that horse was a fae or a brute. Letting my left chestnut colored aud prick forward catching her words. I did have to admit I was liking the company of another horse, true it would taken me a long time to trust another horse in my life. Shaking my crown lightly which caused my chestnut and ivory painted mane lightly hit either side of my neck, but inside the cave it echoed a bit louder then normal. Opening my very pale pink maw
It isn’t you fault Isis. The thing I would like most of all was if all dark stallions, were killed.

Stepping away from the back of the cave so that my rump was not touching the wall any longer. Ice blue orbs looked at Isis, showing that she need help in keeping something a secret from a dark stallion she did not want to see again, no matter what. I don’t wanted to see that good for nothing git.

I gave a light sigh but it was mainly to myself then to Isis, turning my white bald face around to itch the right hand side of my belly, then my ice blue orbs then caught sight of the new wound that was on my tummy, in a few months time I knew that would hurt, but I knew I was hopfully get it right this time around. He isn’t getting anywhere near the foal when it is born.

[`* isis]

•_••^•• i s i s •^••_••

r u s s i a n r o u l e t t e i s n o t t h e s a m e w i t h o u t a g u n

the other mare adjacent to isis's languid large for took a step forward, out of the shadow-cloaked rear wall of the cave; now she was a good 3 feet closer to the gypsy she was currently conversing with. she was slowly beginning to trust isis, and, for that, isis felt mildly better. It isn’t you fault Isis. The thing I would like most of all was if all dark stallions, were killed. she nodded in agreement with nevaeh's chorus of words; isis, too, felt that the dark equines of midnight acres ought to have been annihilated years ago. they bred like rats in a wet, smelly underground hole, spreading the evil aura that was already taking over parts of the terra with its bleak, hate-filled presence. the comparison to rats was an apt one; for both rats and evil equines had similar attributes. both were infestations that needed to be stopped. both were vile, hateful creatures that deserved to live about as much as any other noxious, lethal and corrupted villain out there. but both were also powerful beyond belief; both had the potential t destroy everything. the lights of midnight acres were in grave danger, with their darker counterparts multiplying with staggering rapidity, with enough numbers to easily obliterate the good horses. that was something isis did not want; for, as surely as the sun set, she knew she would fight to the death for her freedom, and for the freedom of the others like her.

you're not alone in that wish, isis sighed, shaking her cranium sadly, i'm sure the other lights of this place share the sentiment. . . maybe, some day, we will finally be rid of the scum forever. but that achievement will come with a heavy cost. . . but, alas, i don't think we need to worry about that just yet. . . she trailed off into silence, her brow wrinkling slightly in concentration. as isis glanced over haphazardly at nevaeh, she caught the look in the icy orbs of the other mare; it was a look of desperation, one of imploring want. she was momentarily bewildered; what was it that nevaeh wanted? that she wanted, needed something, almost more than her want for survival was blatantly obvious. no words left the pale pink maw of the painted chestnut and ivory lady in the cave, yet the meaning she conveyed with her expressive frosted optics was enough for isis to get the message.

she needed something, badly, from isis. but what was it? isis could not make heads or tails of the wish, but, as nevaeh reached over to scratch as itch on her abdomen, isis noticed a slight bump in the regular curve of nevaeh's bodice. two and two clicked together as soon as she laid eyes on the irregular bulge. but could she help her with that? now isis herself had never been the motherly type; she found foals to be simply too annoying and evil and demanding to ever entertain the notion of having one. whether she thought that foals were evil because she's only ever met dark foals, or because she simply chose not to investigate the matter any further was anyone's guess. but she did not know if she had the maternal instinct to help this mare, who was in obvious need. it's not to say that isis had any experience, or role-models, to look up to for the raising of a little one; her own parents' brand of 'parenting' was blatantly lacking in tact, or anything else needed for raising a gentle, loving foal, for that matter. had everything gone right with their daughter, isis would not have grown up to be the gentle giant that she was. she would have been a darker shade of neutral, fighting alongside the rest of her siblings for the good of her father's herd. had salistra's wishes came true, isis's kindly thoughts would have been replaced with the want to kill, the instinct to hate everything, and everyone, as an enemy. but of course, none of that had ever happened. rather than following the example her parents made, isis was repulsed by it. she grew up remarkably fast, and ran away from the oppression her parents exercised on her free will, and became the kindly soul that stood before nevaeh now, with a transparent honesty layered in the depths of her mocha optics. what is it you need, nevaeh?


a complete waste of time
face the music gotta be somebody - nickelback
eat your seven hundred and thirty nine lying words

[Nevaeh]

Nevaeh
listening to the large fae’s vocals, sighing quietly to herself as Nevaeh scratched an itch on her shoulder. When she had finished having a scratch, her beautiful ice blue orbs looked at Isis. Then opening her light pale pink colored maw while her sweet vocals came flowing out, Well I know you my not want to do this, but the stallion who’s foal it is I don’t want that stallion to see the foal no matter what happens to me. So I would like help in keeping the foal quiet when it is born.

Mucles underneath her skin moved her forward and she then walked out of the cave. It was now a lot more noticeable that this painted mustang fae had been though a lot in her life, there were some old scars and a new one right on her tummy which would hurt her in that far away time. Blue orbs looking out towards the sea. In a way she wished she had not came here, but in another way she does. Nevaeh wished she were not as easily tricked to follow the first horse she saw.

((ooc: oops I thought I posted it. Silly me))

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[`* isis]

•_••^•• i s i s •^••_••

r u s s i a n r o u l e t t e i s n o t t h e s a m e w i t h o u t a g u n

nevaeh busied herself with scratching an itch on her shoulder, contemplating isis's words, and the meaning behind those words; after a few moments of silence between the two mares, nevaeh looked over toward the gypsy vanner mare with curious ice blue orbs. Well I know you my not want to do this, but the stallion who’s foal it is I don’t want that stallion to see the foal no matter what happens to me. So I would like help in keeping the foal quiet when it is born.

isis nodded in a agreement; that much she could do for nevaeh. the painted mare seemed to hesitate for a second, seeming to deliberate something that isis could not work out, then took a few tentative steps out of the darkness-shrouded cave where she had been a few minutes before. isis also turned to face the roiled sea, mesmerized by the boiling icy water that flailing against the sand with surprising force in great white capped waves that reared into existence from the midst of the vast ocean that stretched in endless cyan undulations toward the horizon, where the sun was beginning to set from a halo of clouds that floated in the sky. it was not an awkward silence, but rather a contemplative, companionable silence which allowed each mare to reflect, for a too short moment, on things rather thought than said out loud, on the various aspects of the complicated path that they each followed separately, the same path that had lead isis to the stricken and injured nevaeh. was it merely fate, or a fluke by which the ebon and ivory steed had found the much smaller painted lady by the sea? isis would have liked to think as such, but there had to be more to their meeting than a simple coincidence and the insatiable curiosity that drove her to investigate every unknown thing to cross her path.

isis was of the strong belief that there was more to life's successes and failure than mere mortal decisions. there had to be a bigger picture out there, something else that affected each equine's destiny and fate; isis's own mother, salistra, had also believed in this theory, and thus named her only daughter after what she had heard of egyptian mythology, overheard from a discussion of the two-legged creatures that had tried -futilely- to capture the fiery black and white mare. of course, had salistra known that her little isis would grow up to be such a filthy light, she probably wouldn't have bothered naming her after a goddess. but isis was returned to the present by the roar of the waves and the thought to answer nevaeh's request; it would be rather rude not to. of course; i will do my best to help you. . . if you don't mind my asking, whose foal is it? it would probably be a foal by one of the numerous dark stallions of midnight acres. there was something different about this land, now that isis had begun paying more attention to everything.

there seemed to be a new feeling about the terra; about the recesses of the land, seeming to float on an invisible wind that was neither noticed nor felt, but was obviously blowing about the geography, came a dark foreboding that reached out to touch the languid forms of nevaeh and isis standing before the vast ocean from the heavens above. it was a feeling of dread, something that she knew was not well, an inkling of a bad feeling that brought with it an aura of hate. or was it something more than hate? loathing, perhaps, combined with a vicious intent to harm. it seemed to call out to isis, warning her of something. in the pit of her stomach, there was a shivering intuition, but of what? isis knew almost nothing of midnight acres, but when she had first come here, this angry aura had certainly not been here. what had changed? she would have liked to ask nevaeh if she felt the same thing, but she did not want to disturb her; she seemed to be contemplating something as isis was.

a complete waste of time
face the music let it be christmas - alan jackson
eat your six hundred and ninety three lying words

[Nevaeh]

Nevaeh
Into the Shyness

It took this chestnut and ivory painted fae a little while to answer Isis question, because her ice blue orbs where watching the waves crashing against the rocks. Then as she felt the sea hit her light colored hooves. As a little bit of cool sea water touched her chestnut painted crown, it brought the short mustang back into the world of reality. Turning her crown toward the ebony and ivory Gypsy Vanner fae, giving a little sigh and gave a little deep breathe in, before she spoke. Opening her very pale pink maw opened and her sort of sweet vocals came out, Well the father to the foal, is the dark stallion know as Chaos. when she mention his name her left hind leg stomp on the ground, sending up a little bit of sand. Then her chestnut auds flicked back when the sand hit her new wound. Sorry about that, I let my mood get the better of me, when I talk about him.

[/color]

[`* isis]

•_••^•• i s i s •^••_••

r u s s i a n r o u l e t t e i s n o t t h e s a m e w i t h o u t a g u n

there was a shared moment of thoughtful silence, while isis's chorus of words faded into nothingness with the passage of time; only the echo of them in her mind remained. almost every thing else seemed to cooperate with the want for quiet. no seagulls graced the skies above, and their scratchy squawks did not rent the air with their resonance. even the sea ceased its heaving, subduing the crashing of the waves over rocks to the whispered lapping of calm water over weathered, smooth stones. not even the wind howled. all was completely silent, save for the rhythmic breathing of the two femmes and the occasional swish of isis's lengthy tail dislodging an annoying fly from its perch on her splashed rump. not that the painted gypsy minded the pleasant lack of sound; on the contrary, she found it quite peaceful, glad to have finally found a companion that shared her silence rather than a constantly chattering fae. those particular verbose equines usually rubbed isis the wrong way. but nevaeh also seemed to be inclined to silence rather than conversation. whether because of the nature of the question isis asked, or just because she didn't have much to say she did not now, but it was a peaceful, restful change from the incessant chatter most others showered the quiet isis with.

Well the father to the foal is the dark stallion know as Chaos. Sorry about that, I let my mood get the better of me, when I talk about him. nevaeh apologized shortly after her hind leg stomped the ground with surprising force, considering that the paint mare was rather gruesomely injured. only a few short feet apart, isis could feel the ground vibrate from the force of the other mare's angry reaction to the stallion's name. certainly, the name did not ring a bell in isis's mind, but then again, she'd been here barely two months, and, fortunately, had the luck not to run into the various evil equines that dominated the region. but his name was warning enough, and isis, though she knew not of the exploits and injuries instilled by the wicked stallion fathering the growing foal inside nevaeh, but she understood her reaction. it was only natural.

it's fine, nevaeh. i understand completely; his name tells me enough about what little civility and empathy the brute has, if he possesses any at all. believe me, i've had enough run-ins with darker stallions to know their typical demeanor. i will do everything in my power to shield the little babe from the evil monster, isis reassured her companion, glancing over at nevaeh, her fervent, transparent mocha eyes full of evident truth and promise. if the gypsy fae could have some small effect on the foal's outcome, to protect it from the dark, evil future that was the product of having a monster for a father, then her life would have meaning. to prevent the darkness of chaos from taking root in yet another of many equines was a worthwhile cause, was it not? isis had the power to help nevaeh. and she would.


a complete waste of time
face the music forever and always - taylor swift
eat your pathetically brief five hundred and fifteen lying words

[Nevaeh]

Nevaeh

Lifting her chestnut and white painted crown up and looked towards the sky’s as it began to darken. Nevaeh did not want to leave Isis all alone, but she knew she had to get to Moonglade before it went to dark and the darks came out. Beautiful light blue orbs turned back towards Isis. Chestnut auds flicked forward while listening to the tall gypspy vanner fae. The short mustang fae was not as nervous as she was, this short fae was very relaxed, then after a little bit of more silent’s which this paint fae liked more then anything plus it gave time for her to think of how to say what she was going to say. After another minute or so, her pale pink maw opened while her vocals sweet kind vocals came out, Well Isis, I’m afraid I will have to go back to my home, but I will give you this warning though, it is never to be caught out a alone in the dark, cause that is when the darks come out. Isis since you are new there is also a war coming soon, so if I were you, I would look for a home quickly friend. her vocals where mixed with sweetness and a little bit of warning.

[/color]

[`* isis]

•_••^•• i s i s •^••_••

r u s s i a n r o u l e t t e i s n o t t h e s a m e w i t h o u t a g u n

the sky was darkening quickly, as the sun plummeted toward the horizon with surprising speed, sucking the color of the vista away as the golden light dwindled, and, eventually, vanished altogether. the clouds, previously their neutral fluffy cotton white, were now a flaming assortment of pinks, purples, and reds. the light from the dying sun setting the stringy haze on fire with a brilliancy only matched by the sun's golden light itself; the beauty of the scenic seascape was double, the calm surface of the endless ocean mirroring the panorama that greeting the mocha optics of the gypsy vanner mare, standing on the sandy shore, gazing longingly into the sailor sunset. her companion glanced up at the darkening midnight sky, seeming to search for words among the constellations of stars that were now just popping into relief as the setting sun leached the golden color from the usually sea-blue sky, leaving it a deep velvety purple. of course, the stars gave nothing away, pleasantly winking down with their eternal light. it was a perfectly still sight; no movement marred the sunset, save for the lazy circling of the seagulls -black against the fiery red of the sky- as they spiraled lazily earthward with unexpected fluidity, strangely quiet.

Well Isis, I’m afraid I will have to go back to my home, but I will give you this warning though, it is never to be caught out a alone in the dark, cause that is when the darks come out. Isis since you are new there is also a war coming soon, so if I were you, I would look for a home quickly friend, nevaeh said, her softly spoken vocals laced with a cautious tone; her words didn't seem to disrupt the quietness of the scene, rather seeming as if they belonged in that setting, merely completing an already perfect backdrop. of course, isis snapped her wandering attention back to the copper painted fae standing off to her right, who was also gazing at the locale before them, appropriately silent and still. isis had not realized how all her movements had ceased; she was unaware that her muscles locked themselves into place of their own accord, so it took a moment for her to regain control of her movements to twist her large sculpted cranium in the direction of nevaeh's somnolent statue. all the nervousness seemed to have drained out of her small, stocky form as time passed; she seemed much more comfortable with isis's presence than merely an hour ago. well, it could have been only minutes or seconds, hours or days, in isis's mind. the passage of time was no longer of importance to the mare; time could have ceased in that very moment, and she would not have likely noticed. but as inevitably as fall's earthy oranges and browns froze into winter's starkly beautiful blacks and whites, time passed.

her long mule-like auds swivelled sideways to catch the remains of nev's words, glancing at the other mare, a faint smile on her lips. friends. thank you; i think i will be heading back to the waterfall after, but if i don’t find a home in time. . . it will be on the battlefield. may the winds of fate blow us together again, soon, my friend, she said, reaching out to gently nuzzle novae’s uninjured shoulder with her velveteen muzzle.

a complete waste of time
face the music love story - taylor swift
eat your five hundred and fifty one lying words