i'm just c o n t a g i o u s

[[ nobody ]]

>> The task that you are currently weighing, considering, attemping may be considered by those without enthusiasm --or at least a tad of hopefulness-- a fool's errand. To throw oneself before a mare, unabashed, unprotected by even a sheer defense would seem, if not impossible for those prouder ones then surely at least daunting. Claiming mares was nealy always an act of patience, of careful workings, of putting one's best stride forward, although rest assured, dear stags, those lovely ladies wish to be carted home just as much as you'd like to have them. Where you stand looking impressive, they stand looking demure, lurking about and turning only their prettiest faces up to the sunlight, assuring themselves that you will of course find them endlessly charming. They try to appear just as you want them: so delicate, so sweet, so little purpose.

Usually.

>> She walked through the nighttime film, slipping without care from bague shadow to vague shadow, caressed almost gently by the numbing fingers of nighttime dew. A stumble here, a broken curse there (the mare's language was foul) as she stumbled through the dark, muttering some ungodly oath and damning the lack of light as much as her own faulty footing. Through the coarse fingers of moonlight, which were apt to highlight the brightest of hues, one could see the firey red of of roan, bristled coat and how it quivered jaggedly with abrupt and startling shadows as she moved, those black appaloosa eyes indistinct as they wandered over the slippery dark, picking from its depths the path that appeared least likely to send her tumbling to her death (this was the case of course in her mind, a trip on these gentle hills wouldn't harm a babe) and plodded on with resiliance if not enthusiasm.

>>Ears pinned, she filed past the dark shapes of sleeping mares who housed themselves quietly in the dark plain, huddled in small rings for either warmth or protection though Ague seemed little worried about either of those things as she plodded straight into the belly-high stream that splayed out before her, unmindful of the freezing fingers the wet used to latch onto her barrel, her chest. The cold was uncomfortable, but not unbearable to she lingered in the lazy progress of the water, dipping her mottle mug to drink deeply for several mouthfuls, her auds flicking carelessly about.

>>That done, Ague figured it might be a good idea to remove herself from the cold water, but truthfull couldn't work up the motivation to do so and stood in the stream's center, her tail longing to be tugged down the current with the passing debris lingering at an almost comical angle as its tip was pushed with the water's movement and away from the stocky mare's hind. Ague's head was held lazily, thick boa parallel to the horizon as dark eyes flicked idly through the gloom towards the eastern sky and awaited the rosy crest of morning.

why don't you blow me a kiss before she goes

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[Roxie]

Don't you dare [ F R E T ] ♥

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--> Most think poorly when the though of a testostrone driven beast pop unwillingly into their brain pan. Vague images of them rippling younglings limb form limb, raping and seducing those who mean little to them. Or at least, that was what came to mind when you thought of a sin brujo. Perhaps this has some truth to it, but not in his case. No, no. Paradox enjoyed those things as past times, but recently became rather bored with the short time effect of fun they laid upon another. Sure, enjoy it while it lasts, but once it is over with, what do you have to say for yourself, hm? Absolutley nothing. So im my dear, devious brutes mind, more staged, and complex things began to hatch. Perhaps life had a new meaning for him, but it was a meaning he understood all the more better, and made him seem all the more wiser. Oh no doubt that he was a smart one before his new era was born, but now, his notoriety has changed. A thicker skull, and heaveir brain lays past the mask that covers his true self. Don't say you don't have one, for we all do. Each and everyone of us has a part to is that is fake. Our identity is never truley shown, for there are things we fear to tell others. Things we don't even dare admit to ourselves. If these things fell in the hands of another, chaos would be the first thing to start a chain reaction to this simple slip up. And so each and every one of us has a mask. His used in a bit of a different context, but none the less, it is, yes, a mask.

xXx

Unmatchable hues tinted the skies with a certain lust. Shadows cast eerie looks upon the lands of claiming as the demon set fourth to find his first victom, or in this case, his first hunter. Perhaps this whole theroy of the she devil's being the real huntresses would be labeled the truth. But how was he to know for certain? Only a few simple tests would tell. Iron flints cracked the thin layer of lithosphere that gathered around him with every movement. Smirk creased his ashen plush with a slight tint, giving off his eerie look as usual. Moon washed and patterned virle hauled by stocky appendages, which turned the atmosphere, kicking up his plumage that cascaded endlessly like a waterfall down his hinds, and towards his hocks. Probiscious stayed plastered fourth, not missing a sound. The almost inaudable murmer of curses, and huffs were alerted to him. Hello. Occuli straned for the simplest sight of where the gruff whisperes exerted from. Mopey shilouet quickly caught his attention. Bored facial expression quickly lit up, excited by his new find. Complete looks; unkown, persona; unkown. He would leave those small details to be his goals. Things to learn about this one. Paper thins flared as her scent tinted the breeze, carried to him on this day. Interesting. Appendages carried stocky buld towards the silver linning of the other, dome co.cked slightly, brow rasing with interest. Smug grin still plastered upon his mug as he continued fourth. His discovery seemed to be a decent one. For the time being that is.

xXx

Autumn sense hung thickly in the atosphere as the colors of leaves began to change. No longer did they rein with an emerald brilliance, but hues of crimson, orange, russet, and yellow dotted the frondescence with a firey sense. As the crip winds coated his moon washed virle in a cloak of shivers, the leaves danced like burning flames. Grullo brujo did not let the abstract pitches take away his concentration and goal. As more was seen of this beauty, her curves being veiwed and taken in by he, thoughts simmering in the back of his mind, he quickly approached, not wanting to have to wait any longer. Coy smirk stayed still, hiding his ivory enamels behind a wall of epidermis. He had no proper art, nor skill to taming seductresses, but the walls he built up in life allowed him to be immune to such things. Numb his heart was, and so it would stay. Appendeages danced as he came to an abrubt halt before the nymph. Dome raised as he looked throughly at her. One last pause before his verse was spoken.
"'Lo poppet. Shall we not make this as hard as some seem to think it should be, and start off with a simple inquiry? What is it that I should call you essa, besides my little pet? A name perhaps, unless it is you do not have one."
A flame began to flicker deep within the stallion, egnited by the curiosity that filled him about this one. She did not show herself off to the world, to been seen, and loved by all. A thing he respected greatly, but lest he forget that curiosity killed the cat. And so the flame within him could eather be fed to by she, or blown out, with the simple reply to his first question.

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