And Behind Door Number One...

[Trill Stalker]

Ambrose
You Have Wone Insanity!

<sup>Although the morning was early the sun was already high in the sky and shinning brightily down on the earth. A cool breeze played with the long green tendrils of springs new growth; and dots of bright color sprinkled over the land with the heads of open flowers. In the ever shrinking shadows of the towering mountains a dark form stood glairing at all the beauty. The stallion was young though he was big, a well muscled brute with the stamina of a wild mustang and the dominance of a Andalusia. He snorted his long nose flaring and showing a bit of bright red in all the darkness. The scents around him were all new, and they excited him. Especially the ones filled with testosterone, because this horse knew that those strong spices belonged to other stallions. And he was itching for a fight, for a chance to test out the blood thirst surging hotly threw his veins.

This was Ambrose’s first time out of his birth lands; and out from the clutching wings of his father. Ambrose’s big form shivered at the thought of his father; that beast was nothing more to him then a sperm donor and his mother a vessel that allowed him to suck the life from in order for him to be born. Zarian, o how Ambrose wished he had the power to destroy that life. Everything that that stallion stood fore had no meaning, and it would be better if that being were a sweet nevermore. Gnashing his teeth together Ambrose twitched his elegant ears and shifted his dark eyes over the land. Still nothing but peace and beauty. Gag me. Ambrose smiled, that husky voice that only he could hear was back. Only if I had the capably of destroying it all. Ever since Ambrose could remember the dark form of another being always took form in his minds eye when it was least expected. Dear boy don’t you worry, in all do time darkness shale fall upon this land. That grin that had been playing at Ambrose’s dark lips turned out rite cruel. It made him horny to think of all this color in shades of black and blood.

The breeze shifted, bringing a stronger scent of stallion. It smelt new and hiked up the pulse of his beating heart. I want to feel flesh giving away between my teeth and blood running hot down my veins as well. Let us start forward and hope for a challenger young one. Ambrose followed the orders of what the dark being said, he had total trust in his word. Long legs carried the both of them out of the shadows and into the light of day.</sup>

[rayvencullen.]

SPIKE
It's a long trip alone; over sand and stone.

Indeed the spring had brought along the wonderful delights of spring; flowers, sweet sweet grass to munch on with your beloved mares, but he didn't have all that; he infact was alone. From where he stood on the slight incline he peered over his shoulder at the world behind him, he was leaving Midnight Acres since he had known he was not welcome here. He had no home, no one to share a life with. There was no reason to stay if he couldn't have someone to love and cherish, so now he turned his gaze towards the world ahead of him and pushed his limbs against the melting snow, hooves making sloshing noises beneath him as his sunkissed pelt carried him upwards, only then did he let a ringing call of goodbyes to the lands he came across and now he was to leave them, and when he leaned casually against the tree planted firmly on the top of that hill only then did he notice another soul.

Ambrose, I suppose. Son of Zarian, he thought sweetly, eying him curiously with dark blue eyes of interest and some sort of welcoming; he didn't exactly want to fight but this stallion seemed he wanted to.. and he seemed. Gay.. haha. His shoulders slumped forward as a sigh was heaved; audits fanning out aside his dome as atlantic eyes rolled upwards, a gay horse is just what he needed. Fangs gnashed together in concentration, watching the figure move about the valley below him; he looked like a hawk scanning his prey; Spike did. He shook his tressels out before a call was given forth.

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[steph]

Y A R R A M A N

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Spring had taken over all of Midnight Acres, all the darkness that was amongst the lands a few months ago had been chocked out by the signs of new life. The ground had thawed and lushes soft green grass had overtaken the sight of the suffocating snow. And all of it disgusted me. Limbs carried my pure Arabian body at a canter towards the grounds of Green Mountain. The blood ran hot through my veins I was fired up, and I wanted some action.


Tossing my head towards the sky the wind blew through my tassels pulling them till the lost there freedom and fell back down against my arched neck. My nares flared wide exposing the pink insides to the crisp air. Green Mountain was filled with the scents of stallions, no mare had ever come upon these lands and I suppose if one did she would be overwhelmed with the testosterone that filled the air. But to me the scent was heavenly. Now don’t get me wrong I loved mares but sometimes they just got to aggravating, with their bitchy attitudes and their constant you don’t own my attitudes. It was nice to just get away from all of that and have a battle with another stallion especially for an equine of my past. But yet again my reason for coming to the Mountain was not to fight; I was looking for a warrior. Granted I now had a heir and I had Radon who was an excellent warrior, I wanted to have another. Unlike most Kings I like young warriors; I wanted to be able to influence them and teach them to rule the way I would. Sort of take them under my wing. My tactics had worked wonders on the once timed Radon and I was now looking for a new prospect, one who was around his age.


I stood still for a few moments taking in all the scents and trying to find one that hinted to what I was looking for and I found one. I flared my nares and focused on the yearlings scent. He had a dark air about him but yet he was raw, perfect. Starting forward I found myself in a collected trot the mouton that this yearling was on had one of the steepest inclines showing that he liked a challenge. I already knew about this yearling’s personality and yet I had not laid eyes on him. Now that took experience and wits. The steep inline took me a mere few minutes to overcome but as I did so I picked up on the scent of another stallion. Clearly I wasn’t the only one who had taken interest in the yearling. However I would be the only one who was taking him home.


Coming to the mountains flat, my sides begin to move faster for on the mountain tips the air was thin. Tossing my forelock out of my eyes I could see the two equines up a head. The yearling that I had taken interest in was moving stealthy below the other. I stood for a moment or two without a sound, my presence to two was still unknown. Orbs watched the black yearling; I wanted to be sure that my first instinct was right. Seeing that it was I moved in and as I did so the call of the brute above rang out. Well now wasn’t this unfortunate for him, clearly he should have made his move sooner. Moving forward I walked upon the ebony equine with dominance, I wanted it to be clear that I would not take any shit he through at me. But yet again I wasn’t there to harass him either. I halted a respectable distance from the cross breed. Yarraman king of Taunting Marshes. Vocals held the usual mixture of dominance and evil. I pause to look up at the other stallion and then back to the yearling. What is your calling. It wasn’t a question it was a demeaned. I had given him my calling and if he decided not to return the courtesy… well lets just say that he wouldn’t be leaving whole.

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[Trill Stalker]

Ambrose
Fly

<sup>Ambrose hadn’t even taken two steps out of the shadows when the call of another being entered his ears. And we didn’t even have to go in search of blood. The prey came to us. The dark frame of the young stallion turned and raised it’s head, his heart was beating a mile a minute now, adrenaline surging threw his veins. “Come down, come down, from your little perch.” He let his voice slither out of his throat, so it sounded strangled yet excited at the same time. “We promise not to hurt you. We just want to play.” A smile tilted Ambrose’s crazed lips, the teeth that peaked threw were strangely pointed for a herbivore. His body shifted, head bobbing up and down, skin flinching, hooves switching weight. Calm now son, in all do time. That ever present voice soothed Ambrose when he would have shot off to meet the victim half way. Yes we wait, we wait for weakness. Ambrose was practically salivating as he watched the other stallion; O how he wanted that sweet life’s-blood sliding over his tongue, down his throat, warming his frigid soul.

The dark stallion had been so intent on his plans for eating the other equine that he hadn’t herd another being approached, but he could now sense the stallion behind him. Ambrose could tell that the beast was big and dominant. Everything he hated wrapped up in one small package. A band leader wouldn’t allow him to follow threw with his darkest desires, he knew his father never had. Ambrose swung his head to the side, his eyes were wide and dilated still from his earlier thoughts of killing the mountain stag. What is your calling. His nostrils flared taking in the pungent scent of the beast. “My name? Our name? What shale we be called by? Ambrose, Ambrose is my name but I could also be summoned by the bridge that connects me to that dark hollow. Sorrow, Sorrow you can call and I will come. We will come” Ambrose’s tail flicked nervously and so did his eyes, they rolled in there sockets. Stupid boy, shut up. No one ells must know. The darkness inside of Ambrose was mad, mad at him because he had said something. Something to make him mad. Ambrose couldn’t remember what though, he couldn’t remember what he had said.

The beast was grey almost as light as his father and it made Ambrose pull his ears back tightly against his skull. “Father, Father. You remind me of him. But yet you have something that is not him. Father, he is not here. You, Yarraman, a beast in every sense of the word. Are you like me? Like us? Do you hunger?” His ears perked up high from his head, giving him an almost funny look. “I hunger, we hunger. It burns threw our being like fire. And even when we give it what it wants it is never enough. Never!” Images of the horses that he had killed, that he had stolen life from came to the front and Ambrose let out a cackle. The sound sent some birds that had been resting flying into the air. The commotion of the fluttering caught his crazed eyes; Ambrose just seemed to close in on him self then, his heart calming and his breathing slowing. “Have you ever wished you could fly? I have, we have. It would be exhilarating to fly. We could just sore away from our problems.” This time when Ambrose lowered his head and met the Beasts eyes he was calm, no more the crazed animal of before, he had forgotten his blood hunger and it nestled somewhere deep inside him, sleeping; waiting, for another vulnerable moment.

Blood, Blood, Blood. The darkness called at first loudly but then it died to a quiet rumble. “What do you want? Why have you come? Have you found what you have been searching for?” His voice was deep and sane when he spoke.</sup>