Faster then my Bullet (Kova)

[nala]

Zira.
It means I hate you.

The mare could have spat nails at her herd mates, she had just absolutely boiled over onto them when they confronted her about the exiled stallion she still thought about. It was a crime, but a meaningless one to the desert dwellers; many could have easily done much worse then this flaxen beast.

"How dare you speak his name!" Her father's (who was not many years older then herself) voice pounded in her head as she continued to limp through a trot, getting away from her life. Her worthless, loathed life. Her shoulder was still bleeding from the beating she was forced to take, her tyrant father hitting her over and over again before the king came in to chase her away.

And that flea-bitten excuse for a dame had just watched. Just as all the times before, she stood behind him and watched. Wretch. Venom spewed from her soul as she continued through the pain, whispering curses to the wind.

She would find Kovarik, she would tell him what they had done. She would join him. The bastard child would have no choice in the matter. They were both exiled from their birth place, both living with only the earth and the sky. He had no choice, she chose to think of him. Silently she stopped in the sand, lifting her head to the sky before bending her neck to lick her wounds. They wouldn't pay, she would... he would. Just as quickly as she had stopped, she started up again, letting the blood drip slowly down her leg.

ooc: eh. ish good... i listened to this

[Xenan]

Hatred. It filled every inch of the scarred, ashen dark bay brute every second of everyday. Sure maybe he didn’t always have a reason, as others may think, but no one could ever understand him. And that was exactly the sort of thing that pissed him off more. But no one cared and he couldn’t care less anyway. Someone trying to get to know him would mean they must delve into his mind and his past, and he hated when others tried to get inside him. He had killed a small number of souls for just such a crime. This whole world Kovarik lived in was a cruel place, unforgiving, so why should he not be more cruel? More unforgiving? The stallion bobbed his head at his own reasoning as he currently galloped across the desert of Shahir. He knew another stallion resided here, claiming the title of “king”, but Kova dared him to say something to his face. He would be delighted in engaging someone in a fight this day, for he would never bow to another‘s wishes. He would die first. He’d only planned to pass through anyway, not as if he was truly a threat unless provoked. A chilled wind from the north blew over the sand mounds and cliff sides in the distance. The coolness of it was welcome against the stag’s dark skin, his pelt coated with a sheen of sweat. He’d lost track of how long he’d been running at full speed. All he knew was that he had every intention of entering this new land he’d heard called Equorum and exploring its reaches. As though he’d had a death wish- and perhaps he had- he’d laughed maniacally almost the whole trek to the borders, for his original homeland lay just north from this desert and he’d had to cross through it just to get where he was now. Evil smirk of satisfaction on his face, the other part of him wished he had bumped into his father who lived there under entitlement of ‘king’ as well. ”King!” Kova spat to the wind, too bothered to shoot out one of his typical humorless chuckles. If only he’d come across his father while he was there.. If only.

It had been four years since he’d been exiled. Outcast. Banished from his father’s herd. He’d been a mere two year old and had tried vehemently to kill the wretched beast who’d planted the seed that spawned him. From very young ages, he hated his sire. Hated pretty much everything, right from the start. He’d never engaged in the foolishness called play as the other little weakling brats had. The only time he’d ever joined in was to show the others the real way to fight and take what they desired. He’d taken first blood when only a weanling at around seven months old. That’s when he’d gotten his first beating as well. Not only was it bad enough that they’d already hated him for being different, now they hated him for nearly killing one of the other little whelps. Not his fault they had bred a wimpy little creature. So he had never been asked to play again, and his first rage of bloodlust nearly drowned such a young colt with the desire to murder his father in cold blood. Upon aging another year and a half, Kov couldn’t wait any longer. He’d attacked his sire with everything he’d had, and failed. Repeatedly. With every attempt, the dark bay bastard had only grown angrier and more determined to carry out his death sentence. The first few times, when his father pinned him to the ground, he proudly displayed his strength and taunted Kova with it. However, the more he tried, the more annoyed his father got, especially that last time when he’d just almost had the brute beat. Sick of the constant threat to his life and greatly insulted that his son would not be appreciative of the life he’d granted him time and again, finally he chased the hellion straight out of his turf.

Afterward, Kov had been nevertheless glad to leave home, even with his scars. He had it in his mind that as he’d been only a two year old, others would see the imperfections in his dark bay pelt as intimidating or repelling. He’d been mostly accurate, though there had been few among the four years he’d been alone that had thought it was because he was a loser in fights and therefore weak. Dark and deep chuckle sounded between measured breathing as he galloped swiftly and had his black lips curving upward as he remembered just how wrong he made them realize they were. Yes, he had lost the battles, and therefore the war, with his sire, but there were other stallions- and even mares- that he came across and made short work of. That was the next thing with Kovarik; death had no affect on him, whether he unleashed it or was threatened by it. If he thought honestly, which he always did with himself, he would welcome death if it came by the blow of a competent foe. The ashen tinged beast respected strength, even if he didn’t show it, for he always would rather it be shown before it would be believed. There were black scars on him from more than just other equines, too, from episodes where none were found and he’d had to seek out different types of victims. A time or two, Kov had confronted a pack of wild dogs, and in one particular instance, there had been six of them against himself. He’d walked away victorious even then, though he harbored a crescent-shaped scar on the gaskin of his left hind leg from where one had latched onto his flesh. He had relished in the pain, but satisfied only when he’d wrapped his jaws around the middle of the mutt’s spine and threw him to the ground before landing a deathly blow to its head. The other experience that was even more of a favorite to him was when he’d found a cougar lurking at the base of a mountain. From that, he’d walked away with the three claw marks slanted downward across his left shoulder, and a scar clean-cut right over his right eye. The black orb itself remained luckily undamaged, but Kova loved the way it looked every time he passed a body of reflective water. Every one of the healed wounds was like a trophy for him, tallies of moments that hadn’t killed him but made him stronger.


With a burst of energy, even after running for so long, the brujo suddenly leapt forth, chin tucked to his breast with nape arched. As he landed, he bounded forward a few steps shaking his head and twisting his body in a wild way before kicking his hind legs up to strike the air behind him. The motions pleased him greatly, releasing pent-up rage, and then he resumed along some invisible path in the sand at a more collected canter. Eyes deep and black like an abyss scanned the generally flat terrain surrounding him. Kovarik wanted something, and though he wasn’t sure what it was, he grew embittered when he didn’t see it. He didn’t see much of anything around for that matter, and that only served to foul him up more. Pounding the sand beneath him with unnecessary force as he loped across the desert, he almost screamed in frustration. And then it was there with a gust of cold wind from the northern regions; the scent of blood and a mare. What luck he had, and before he’d gotten to completely lose his temper! With a shrill whinny announcing his presence in case she hadn’t heard his approach, Kova made his way to her quickly.

Soon as she’d entered his devilishly dark gaze, he snorted and slowed to a trot that would have appeared handsome and graceful on a nicer, less-scarred steed. Sides glossy and heaving with his exertion, he studied his prize as he drew nearer and then began a different motion as he rounded her in a wide circle. Muscles rippled and flowed as he appeared to trot in slow motion, dancing the passage, as he inspected every inch and corner of the stocky fae, from the bird-catcher spots marring a dark red pelt to the creamy-colored mane and tail, and to the bloody gash on her shoulder he‘d seen her doctoring on his approach. ”You.” He said by way of greeting, and after completing two rounds, he came to a graceful stop in front of her face, black eyes following the stripe down her nose. ”Where do I know you from?” He’d said this before thinking about it, just as he’d registered that he had in fact seen her before. His breaths were coming more even now, his conditioning of himself allowing for long runs like the one he’d just endured without much of an effect on his overall being. Head tilting just a bit, black forelock floating over the scarred eye, he racked his brain for the answer. Surely she’d come out with more scars if he’d gotten hold of her in the recent years. But no, he thought, for he would have remembered claiming this beaut as his victim. Of that, he was certain. No, it went back farther than that… And then he remembered. She’d been much lankier then, and much less beautiful, but he’d noticed her along with the rest of the herd where he’d been outcast from. ”Ah, I take it Da gave that to you. He said rather than asked, his masculine voice deep and without inflection. He snorted and tossed his head then, teeth baring with memories and the fact that he’d claimed any sort of relation to that fool otherwise known as his father. Deep, dark eyes swam with some wild emotion as he then asked. ”Pray tell, what did you do to make daddy dearest exile you as well?” Emphasis on the strained endearment nearly bit out as a snarl from him before he waited to see what kind of response he would get from this female he recognized, but could not remember the name of. She hadn’t been of much importance to him four years ago, but my how times did change things. A statement well proven by the many scars upon his frame.

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[nala]

Zira.
It means I hate you.

[/size][/i]

At first she didn't notice him, listening to the beat of her own muffled steps rather then the ones thudding towards her. She didn't smell him, for he was downwind. She did, however, notice his dark frame slinking across the horizon of the blue blue sky. He was a good 50 yards away at this point, and although he was blurry, his mirage and the thought of Kovarik pricked at her mind. You bloody bastard. She spoke softly, inaudible to anyone but herself. You lucky wench. The thought tickled her being, causing her mind to give out a shrill laugh.

You.

What a greeting. She scoffed slightly watching him circle with her head held higher then any comfortable position. He stopped awfully close for a stranger of four years; four whole years he left her there to be beaten. You don't remember my name do you? You sheepish dimwit. I loved you, I was banished for you. Her feet had been planted securely in the sand, but now, as he continued to babble about his abusive father, she loosened her grip on the earth.

Its all about you! All about you, Prince Kova. She remembered their childhood, remembered how the mares didn't want their children to play with him. Her father was his father's second in command. Her mother wasn't accepted by the herd mare's, the queen being her only "friend". She remembered his psychotic outbursts; she remembered his gentle breath after a beating.

You left me you bastard! She exploded, charging towards him. Kova didn't scare her. Kova wouldn't hurt her. Or was she testing fate, committing suicide. Before he could make the decision, Zira veered away, merely clipping him on the shoulder and smearing her blood onto his dark hide. In response to her own action she screamed out in pain as her wound throbbed. You left me with them. It wasn't a whimper; Zira wasn't weak, but this was a call of angered desperation. I was banished for speaking your name. And you, another hateful glance hit him full on. You don't even remember my name. She hoped to make a point, but it was almost no use trying to penetrate his thick skull.

[Xenan]

They say “Freak”
When you’re singled out
The Red
It filters through

Sooty dark bay brute watched the flaxen chessy like a predator eyes his prey, shoulders rolling as he raised one foreleg and then the other as though dancing in place. His black eyes, dark and cold, bore down into her own brown stare. Kova was well aware of how she was reacting to him as he’d circled her and came round to face her. His response to her scoff was to rudely snort right back at her. He almost saw it as a game, and was pleased with how he’d come back. Grinning sardonically at her as she stood and glared at him and seemed to grow restless. He paid no mind, however, only admiring the way her muscles bunched under her speckled pelt with her motions. Mmm.. He thought to himself. Yes, fine prize indeed. Thick black tail, raised high even while standing there at the moment, swatted at an itch on his side as he tilted his head again to study the mare. Yes, he remembered her now, but damned if he couldn’t remember her name. He could have snorted again, however, at how important the world seemed to think a name was, and how important he thought they were. Pointless, really. What did he care what name had been given to her trite little ass? Hell, all he really cared about was her ass itself. He chuckled then, unable to keep it from escaping at the direction his thoughts had gone. No, he thought, she’d be a fun one to play with before he decided how hard he’d have his way with her. But, oh, would it be sweet.

”You left me you bastard!” She yelled at him, just before she lunged at him and veered off at the last moment, only smearing her blood upon his blackish shoulder. He suddenly looked as though slapped. Just that quick his mood went dark. Curling his neck to peer at the crimson life liquid painted now on his shoulder, his gaze slowly slid back to the mare, demeanor suddenly full of menace. But then she screamed and it brought a humorless grin back to his lips. Foolish. And then she was spitting more hate-filled words at him and he snorted. Was this supposed to mean something to him? Growing irritated, he snarled his retort. ”Perhaps you forget. I didn’t leave, I was cast out, you tool.” His tones were so deep they rumbled out through his chest and echoed the coldness in his eyes. Suddenly he did remember her name, and just in time. No longer thinking, he said. ”I cannot be held accountable for your mistakes, Zira. Could have left on your own.” Never once did he raise his voice- he didn’t need to. The benevolence undertone in his civil and deceptively calm voice would be enough to send shivers up any weakling’s spine. He bared his teeth at her, ears pinned. ”Four years is a long time to suddenly give a shit, wench. Perhaps if you made yourself more important to me, I'd remember your name faster.” Kova’s haunches twitched just a millisecond before he lashed out with his hinds, hooves like daggers with no real target in the sky. And then he was prancing around her again, remembering back all those years when he was younger. Focused as he’d been on his goal, he’d never truly paid her mind, but she was there in his memory regardless. She’d been the daughter of his despicable sire’s second-in-command. Zira’s big, brown eyes had been the only pair he’d seen with concern in them after he’d been beat or when he’d been standing alone as a foal as the others frolicked like love-sick puppies. He remembered hating every bit of the pity he believed she’d harbored. He didn’t need it! He needed his father dead, but that hadn’t happened. Instead he’d been beaten and banished finally after enough times of threatening the ‘king’. Nares flared, he blew a heavy breath and rounded her barely touched frame. One gash on her shoulder was pathetic in comparison to what he’d endured. With a snarl, he spoke again. ”Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, baby? Funny. No one but you did that for me. Pity is not something I welcome. You'd do well to remember that.” Stamping his left hind firmly into the sand as he halted again, but beside her this time. ”I could do worse to you, you know.” He whispered viciously, eyeing the mark on her shoulder with teeth bared.


So lay down
The threat is real
When his sight
Goes Red again

VOICE: Jeremy Irons as Scar w/ britsh accent
LYRICS: The Red by Chevelle
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[nala]

Zira

It means I hate you.[/right]

Pity!? She hissed. You're that vain? You think I pity you? Kova, please for the love of nature get off of your pedestal. Her anger flared in not only her heart but her eyes as well. Damn you. The Chestnuts ears pinned to her skull as she watched him look down to her. How dare you act like your father. She knew what he was thinking, how he was looking at her. He would not have his way with her this way; perhaps she had loved him once, but if this was who he was there was no way in hell she would bare him a foal. Yet still his obvious hunger hung thickly in the air between them.

You look at me with the hate spawned of your father, and all I can think of is how weak. She knew she was treading on ice, thin cracking ice. She realized the anger he harbored would be expressed in any way possible soon, yet Zira continued with her own disgust and anger. I'm the only one who gave a shit about you. I gave a shit all four of these years you spent out here, roaming alone and most likely ruining young fillies lives in your angry flares. Their was no question in his mind he had sired bastards in his four lonely or not so lonely years; just by the way he stood now she was disgusted at the thought of how many. As for making myself more important to you, your fucking majesty, you're right. I'm a peasant girl aren't I, only useful when you want me to be? She may be bitter but the taste of her anger on the way out was just too sweet to stop. Nice to know I'm the only one who really does give a shit.

ooc: BITTER xDDD I'm kinda scared she's gonna be so angry at him he'll beat her and she wont want him! D: haha we gotta figure out how to fix this a bit xDDD <3 he's so awesome! You play him well. I just dont want either of them to back down “out of character-ly” but this is intense xDD

[Xenan]

The bay brute had been standing next to her when she’d started wailing on him. At the mention of him putting himself on a pedastal, though, he snarled in anger, whipping his rear end around so that he faced her with his face very close to hers. ”Pedastal?! Really Zira, you must not know me at all. What pedastal could I possibly stand on as a worthless outcast!” He snorted, his tones harsh and his words biting. Her brown gaze glared daggers at him, but his own narrowed eyes were emphasized by the scar running cleanly over the right one as he glared right back. And then she’d compared him to his father. Kovarik reared up then, screaming in cold rage. His curse rang loud from him, where as before he hadn’t raised his voice. ”You dare compare me to that miserable oaf?! That fucking sorry excuse for horse flesh?!” When he landed, his hooves struck the sand hard, but not hard enough to satisfy his anger. Kova wanted to hit something, bad but the only thing around close enough he could do damage to was Zira herself. He bared his teeth to her, red hazing his vision. But he couldn’t bring himself to strike her. If he had, then he really would be no better to her than his sire, and now he had something to prove. She was speaking again, but the words only just barely registered. She was comparing him again to the foul, loathsome beast, and called him weak. ”Oh Zira, you’re sadly mistaken. Perhaps I hadn’t been able to kill that mangy bastard then, but I’m anything but weak now.” His tone then was soft with barely contained rage, and he had a hard time actually seeing her now through the red fury nearly blinding him. Never, would Kova allow a bitch like her to talk to him this way. Never! By now, he’d have already had her bloody and beaten under the onslaught of his daggers called hooves. Still, he could not strike her, could not bring himself to lay even one blow to her. And it pissed him off.

Trying to put a cap on all this unleashed rage, Kova backed up two small steps from her, tossing his head and sending dust flying from his black mane. She wasn’t done though, apparently, and spoke again of how much she’d supposedly ‘cared’. He snorted and tucked his chin to his breastplate as he threw his forebody into a fierce half-rear, his forelegs piercing the air just in front of the flaxen liver chestnut fae. Thoughts didn’t get a chance to ponder what she said before he responded with vicious clarity. ”Then why didn’t you leave?!” He was screaming, but he could not seem to bring his temper down enough to calm his voice. “Why didn’t you come find me?! If you cared so damned much, why wait four fucking years to get your ass banished before you did?” Somehow, through his shouts and vicious snarls, there was hurt laying behind his words. The ashen dark bay brute couldn’t process anymore. He couldn’t understand why the hell she would claim to care if she’d waited so long. He couldn’t think why she would be reacting this way if she hadn’t cared, either. None of it made any sense! And why did he care?! He should be putting her in her place, showing her just how powerful he was! She’d added on one last statement after she’d spoken, but his tone far outweighed hers, and now he couldn’t care what it was she’d said. He was angry enough. Ears laying flat, a snarl escaping with every exhale, he suddenly snapped his jaws at her face, but really only managed to give a rough nudge of his muzzle to the side of hers before he just-as-suddenly turned from her to release his lividness in the only other way he could without lashing out at her. With a series of grunts, he bucked and reared like the wild bronco he was, striking the ground and the air behind him in rapid-fire succession and didn’t stop until sweat again glistened on his dark, sooty pelt and his lungs burned from the energy-draining actions. Coming to a stop at last, he stood with his back facing her front, his head lowered to just a few feet above the ground. It took him a moment to realize his limbs were shaking, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he was suddenly surprised by the feeling of a warm drop of liquid traveling from the inside corner of his scarred right eye, down his nose and into the corner of his black lips. It was salty to the taste and completely befuddled the scarred brute as to what it was. He snorted and gave his skull a light shake before realizing another drop was sliding down the other side. ”What’s happening to me?” He whispered, momentarily forgetting the mare that still stood behind him. Kova suddenly felt as though he'd been beaten, the strange feeling a bitter reminder of his past, and for the moment the stallion had no clue what to think of it.

OOC: amg, wow I love it! xD definitely bitter and intense bahahah. And thank you! lol I can't wait to see how she reacts to the odd twist at the end. Actually got him to show some emotion, which he has NO clue what teh hell they are xDD
VOICE: Jeremy Irons as Scar w/ british accent
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[nala]

Zira

As if slapped, Zira's stature became completely rigid when Kova snapped at her, landing his muzzle roughly on her cheek before backing away. She couldn't believe he'd touched her in such a manor, couldn't believe he'd even thought of attacking her. They seemed to be completely different people, from completely different worlds. They seemed as if they had never met, had never shared the memories they had shared. Am I the only one that cares, that remembers? The flaxen mare entertained the horrible idea. Was she?

A sudden silence jolted her back to reality. Kova had stopped his inevitable tantrum; a tantrum that was easily blocked out by Zira. The silence was what scared the mare. Kova? She whispered, more then likely audible to only herself. His head hung surprisingly low to the sand, his tail showing no life. Kova? Horrible sights of scars and blood triggered a deep sorrow within Zira as she quietly approached him from behind. She made it known she was near, circling into his view as she came up to his side.

“What’s happening to me?”

She could see his face now, filled with horror and confusion. She hadn't ever blamed him for the certain distinct ways he acted out. She would hold him accountable but never blame. Clearly the emotions that had flanked her life were nearly too much for each of them alone. A lonely tear ran down Zira's face as she watched him suffer silently. Visions of the past were brought to life.

It doesn't matter where we've been, or how long it took us to get here. A brave statement to an obviously hurting stallion, yet Zira knew the truth. Kova, I'm here now. Doesn't that matter; shouldn't it count for something? She added silently, not wanting to go too far just yet. Kova? Her nose wandered in to the perimeter of his face, lingering over his scared eye for a few moments. I did miss you. She emphasized the statement in her head, proving to herself what this meant to her. He was still warm to the touch.

[Xenan]

He hated that he was shaking. He hated that he couldn’t make it stop. He hated the tears that now left a cleaner trail over his dusty face. But most of all, he hated that he couldn’t make sense of all the thoughts and emotions swirling inside him like a wild dust storm. The madness all blew together, mixing and growing rapidly out of control, and Kovarik hated it. The dark bay brute inhaled sharply as he stood there, completely motionless except for the blinking of his lids over black eyes and the expansion of his ribcage as he breathed. Momentarily and near-completely lost in himself, he hardly noticed when Zira stepped up beside him; hadn’t heard when she whispered from behind him as his ears lay flat against his neck. Slowly, the red haze faded from his vision and he could make out the grains of sand beneath him. Even slower, the world around him came back into focus. The turbulent waves of thoughts and feelings were only just beginning to mitigate when her words broke through and could actually be comprehended by him. What she’d stated pissed him off, but for the moment he could not muster the words in his mind to spit back at her. The unspoken thought screamed ‘Maybe doesn’t matter to you! You weren’t here when I needed you most.’ Though the beast was unable to make sense of it, for as quickly as the thought had formed it was sucked into the haze in his mind along with the rest of the madness swarming there. With his skull unmoving from its low and downward-tilted position, he shifted only his eye to look at her, the epitome of darkness and emptiness reflected in its depths.

“Kova, I’m here now.“ The trembling finally ceased at that moment as the stallion’s entire body, riddled with nothing but muscles, tensed in.. anger? Defeat? He couldn’t be sure anymore. No one, ever, in the world had ever called him that. Except her. A memory then shoved through the turmoil within him, back to the day when he’d been a young bastard, beaten down to the ground and forced to bear the humiliation that the king had bestowed upon him. As he watched the despicable being returning to his cozy place in the middle of the herd which had paid him no mind, he couldn’t have felt any lower than the dirt he’d been thrown upon. But one pair of rich, brown eyes had drawn his attention from a short distance. Zira’s eyes, which had welled up with light tears at the sight of him. ”Kova..” She’d whispered to him, but was forced by her own sire to turn the other way, back to the herd as well. And away from him. Such an incident was exactly the thing that had sparked his raging flame back to life and had him trying again and again to achieve the goal he’d set for himself. Kovarik hated that he’d never gotten to see that loathsome beast dead before his own hooves, but such was not what he focused on now. He was brought back to the present when she spoke the nickname softly, again, to him before reaching in to touch the scar running over his eye. The brute flinched, wanting to pull away from the kind touch, but finding it impossible. So he only closed his eyes for a moment and allowed it, even reveled in it.

But as quick as lightning, flashes of hate-filled memories shown behind closed lids and he jerked his head back up and away from her touch, eyes going wide and ears flattening once again. Front left hoof lifted only to strike the sand roughly once more. Black tail flicked behind him so hard that it whipped his own flank with a resounding snap like that of a whip. But finally, thereafter, the clouds finally dissipated in his mind and the liver chestnut mare came back into focus, and he brought his ears forward again slowly. Suddenly, he felt the need to apologize to her. Somehow he felt he’d hurt her in some way, but didn’t know how to make it right. Didn’t know what exactly was right. All he knew was that he hurt inside and wanted a more outer pain to help alleviate it. To make him stronger. He wanted her to hit him, bite him, something, but didn’t know how to ask or demand it. The stallion stepped back only a couple paces, then. Without thought, the scarred brute angled his hind end away from her before taking one slow step forward and then another, ears back but not planted, and lowered his head. He stopped when his forehead planted firmly against the side of Zira’s neck and then left it there. ”Monster.” He mumbled without even realizing he’d spoken aloud, without any reasoning as to why he’d just called himself such. She probably wouldn’t even understand what he’d said, but he was lost in thought, eyes closed as though he’d fall asleep. A muscle twitched over the left shoulder where a mountain cat had forever imprinted its claw marks into his skin. He breathed in her scent slowly before sighing it out, content to be lost for the moment.

OOC: Coping with things xD ..crazy boy <3
VOICE: Jeremy Irons as Scar w/ british accent
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[nala]

Zira.
It means I hate you.

You are a monster when you act like this. She told him shrugging his head off of her. It wasn't that she didn't like his affection when it was given, more that she didn't trust it quite yet. She turned to face the smoky colored brute, looking once more directly at his scar.

She was determined, no that she had his attention, to change the subject to something more productive from her standpoint.

So how are the wives? She joked half scoffing as she said it. She wanted to know how many there were and if any of them were important. If she was to make any decisions about Kovarik, she needed to know this much.

I take it there may be a few. This tone was slightly more serious, taking a step into the dangerous lands of random angry spurts. She was confident now that he wouldn't strike her, although she wouldn't have asked him to just to make sure.

ooc: short but eh, shes making a point. -possessive-

[Xenan]

Kova stood in peaceful silence that only lasted for a single moment before Zira shrugged him off. Dancing to the side, he snarled at her. He now realized he'd been being affectionate with her, even was reaching out to her, and she pushed him away. Ears flattened and the red slowly entered his vision again as he kept his teeth bared at her. Too much in his life, he'd been shoved away, cast out, from those he should have been adored by. Sure, he'd damn well asked for most of the world to hate him. What did he care? But standing there looking at Zira, he couldn't help but feel anger and frustration, even a mixture of shame and disappointment, that she would reject him. He wanted to lash out at her, but alas, could still not force himself to strike this particular mare. Whether he'd like to admit it or not, she meant something to him.

When she turned to face him then, he tossed his head high and shook himself in an attempt to rid himself of some of the dust coating his already ashen bay pelt. He snorted when some of the bits of sand clouded around his nostrils. Kovarik could see the scorn in her eyes, and it had him shifting his gaze to the right, not wanting to see it. His ears were still pinned, but his lips no longer pulled back, when she spoke again. Wives? What the hell did that mean?! Lids narrowing over pitch-black eyes, he met her gaze, attempting to read through the light reflecting off the lovely shade of brown he saw there. When she spoke again, he still didn't quite understand, but he didn't like what he suspected she was inferring. "Are you accusing me of something, dear Zira?" His words left in a deep rumbling snarl, and he slowly began to walk a circle around her. He should show her how much of a monster he truly was, but hell's flaming depths take him, he couldn't bring himself to physically harm her. Ears up now, he suddenly had an idea. If she wanted to be near him, if she wanted to think she really cared, she would need to accept him; give him what he needed. "If you mean to curse me more with that silly show of anger in your eyes for pleasing myself with.." How to make her understand? "whatever means I could find throughout the years, you should quit now." He was passing her rump and coming up the other side. Such a sexy morsel she was. Unable to stop himself, he reached his neck out to scrape his teeth in a rough-but-not-vicious little bite over the skin of her uninjured shoulder. Tasty. But when he returned again to angle his body to face her once more, the look in her eyes had him angry all over again. Suddenly a simple statement burst from him, without prior thought before speaking. "I've not claimed anything for myself in my life! Except the occasional pleasures, of course.. There's no crime in that, so you'd do best to wipe that judgmental sneer off your face, wench!" As if he should care how she was looking at him! With a heavy grunt of displeasure, and a snarl still curling his lips back, he turned his back on her and walked a few short paces away. "You don't like it? Do something about it." These words came out in a tone very low and civil, with the underlying current of a challenge present. He longed for her to bite him. Kick him. Shove him. How gloriously sexy that would be! Kova wondered, though, if she would ever be willing to give him what he truly needed. Why he wondered such was lost on him.

OOC: xDD
VOICE: Jeremy Irons as Scar w/ british accent
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[nala]

Zira.
It means I hate you.

As he scraped his teeth over her opposite shoulder, it was all she could do not to snap at his face. She wasn't a violent mare, but she wasn't about to take this shit. Would you really like me to do something about it? If she was fuming, he was on fire. That was the way it always was.

He wasn't facing her any longer, his tail twitching a few yards in front of her face. Fine. She huffed lightly flicking her tail harshly against her own hide. I will. And with that she turned and began to walk away. She didn't glance back at him, and although her ears were back it was because she was ticked off, not because she was listening for him. A part of her was afraid he wouldn't follow, wouldn't care she was walking away, and yet the anger fueled her onward limping.

I'm doing something about it. Ass. She hissed under her breath.

ooc: xDDD ZIRA ANGRY, ZIRA SMASH.

[Xenan]

He could tell she was getting angrier. When he bit her, he braced himself for her to lash out at him somehow.. But it didn't happen. Disappointed, he'd turned his back to her. He didn't like whatever had come over Zira... Mostly because she wasn't giving him what he wanted, what he needed. When he flicked his tail again, it whipped hard at his side, earning a light sting from the whiplash. He listened to her words, and nodded his answer, whether or not she could see it. But then he heard her footfall as she turned and the sounds grew further away. Snorting frustration, he turned a couple steps so that he could watch her walk off. Limping. He did a half rear, just so that he could powerfully stomp both hooves back down into the sand. Leaving wasn't exactly what he'd meant by 'do something about it.' But fine; she wanted to leave all pissy and limping? Fine. She heard her little snarl as she called him an ass, whether she'd meant him to hear it or not. "Just now figuring that out?" He said this low to where she could only hear if she really wanted to, but it would be difficult. Good. That she was leaving. He realized she wouldn't give him what he desired, so he'd just have to go find temporary relief. He'd likely deal with her later, he was sure. Kova wasn't ready to completely drop the subject in his mind that she'd festered feelings inside him that he didn't quite know how to cope with. It was her fault. So she should help him with it. Not that he would admit to needing help. "Ta ta, my dear." With a shake of his head, he bunched his muscles, straightened his body, and shoved off the sandy turf in the opposite direction of the liver chestnut mare. He grunted as he thrust quickly into a swift gallop, sure to leave more dust in his trail.

OOC: bah... he IS an ass xD
VOICE: Jeremy Irons as Scar w/ british accent
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