The Pure One (Voltair/open)

[nala]

Nyra.

This wasn't where she was supposed to be, a stallions realm, yet the white mare held her own in the territory. She disliked the free lands, but she disliked the kingdoms more. They were all lead by dimwitted softies. None were pure in mind and body, or at least none that the white coated mare had met. She enjoyed playing with their honest minds as they fantasized about her; she loved to watch them as they told her that they only wanted "safety to their families", only wanted "children to care for". The thoughts disgusted her.

Children where for mare's who were worthy of breeding, not just any flea bitten mare. Children were to be taught, to grow learning the true right from wrong. They were to be brought up learning their place, first at the top of the chain then dropping immediately to the bottom as soon as their weak hearts could bear it without breaking. Nyra didn't condone breaking the young lives, but she would make sure they knew who was in charge and what their parents were, just as her father had brought her up.

This night the mare's lusts were not those of children, and loyalty. She was seeking fresh blood, fresh obedience. Her ghostly figure moved about the tree's seeking the right one, not just anyone. She didn't know who he was yet... but it was a safe bet the best pick would be from this territory, young and unaffected by the dwindling ways of this world. They would be pure, though not as pure as she.

ooc: open for anyone looking at this plot. I posted it in the main plot thread as well. Plus I know she wanted to meet Voltair Im still figuring her out.

[Thoxic]

Normally she would never visit those lands, but in an act made purely out of a gut feeling, she was here today. She didn't like to dwell on a kings land like this, not alone. She knew that the chances to survive a fight with one of the king was slim, even though she had actually killed a stallion not long ago. She had a terrible rumor amongst the soft hearted horses of this land, some of them at least, just because she rarely gave respect to anyone, and often got others to either fear her, or respect her. Rarely she became friends with those she respected, but she was a mare who spoke her mind and not often cared about what others thought about it. So far she respected a very few, her father was one of them, although she had never met him, but just his reputation made her feel respect.

Voltair. It was from him she had gotten most of her coat. She was a shiny black with chestnut markings, but the black was dominant, slang with her gold-flecked black eyes. A scar on her neck, partially hidden in the mane, told about her fights, along with other scarrings, not showing under her coat. She had lots of experience, even if she was young, and that made her understand maybe more than others in her age. Vanira was one sharp lady, wise not to jump into fight, but she would never fear a fight, even if it meant her death.

She shook her head and the long black forelock partially covered the chestnut blaze and the white spots. She was elegantly built, a true hotblood, and she looked delicate were she was walking across the meadows, but under that skin you could see the sleek, strong muscles moving, no weak little helpless mare here, no.

[Toaster]

It wasn’t often that such a stallion would have a day off. Every day was usually spent storming across lands, getting everything done before the attack on his homeland. That attack was a long ways off, however, and he found himself relatively exhausted after years of planning. You would of never known it by looking at him, though. The pitch black brute was the perfect picture of health and strength, his large frame muscled yet lean.

In the beginning, most would of never suspected such a stallion to gain the reputation he had. He was built more for speed than for combat. That didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous, though. He was tall at eighteen hands, and easily intimidated the unlucky ones that got on his bad side. And a reputation like his wasn’t always gained from starting fights all the time. Voltair may have been skilled in battle, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that fighting gained you everything. It took more than that.

Some may of called him weak for taking even a short breather, but Voltair did not care for their opinions. They were all worthless and clueless, even his allies. They were just there for him to use and throw away when he felt he was done with them, anyways. In his opinion, those that constantly threw their weight around were strong, but they lacked any mental capacity to see that completely and utterly exhausting ones self always led to downfall.

It was because of all this that the brute didn’t seem to give a crap when two individual mares appeared on separate horizons. Often, he would have been all over that. But, today, he couldn’t be bothered to give the others a second glance. Instead, he simply stood his ground, eyes half closed as if he was paying them absolutely no mind at all. However, he kept his ears focused on every single thing around him. One could never be to careful.

NOTES: ehhh i don like this post of mine.
WORD COUNT: idk
MUSE: eh
VOICE: mark strong as lord blackwood

[nala]

Nyra.

To be honest, Nyra payed no attention to the mare on the horizon. She couldn't come straight out and be displeased with a mare for being in the wrong territory; she was there herself. But the thoughts of disgust slowly began to creep up her neck and into her mind as she scanned over the dark female. With the typical luck of the draw, this was likely to be the only equine she would encounter this day, and this irritated the white mare.

A light huff escaped her lungs as she continued to survey her surroundings, standing on a slight hill with the shadowy trees to her back. She noticed him in the distance; the "him" wasn't exactly for sure, but based on his black silhouette against the sun she thought it was a safe bet. He was slightly farther off then the mare, and he didn't seem to acknowledge either of them. But nonetheless, there he stood.

She started with a walk, aiming herself slightly away from the mare, avoiding contact, yet getting from point a to point b. Her voice, airy and light, called out to him and him alone, making at least light contact with his ears. She began to gallop, allowing her mane and tail to billow out behind her and also further avoiding the intercept of a young black mare. She didn't know its intent but she was not about to allow her plans to be ruined over something as simple minded as such.

occ: fail. BUT the mood music although its not exactly Nyra. xD