[.x.] The aqua cascades in a perfect motion down the rocky precipices, crashing down with such force upon the topography it sends thousands of fine water droplets flying through the oxygen near it. The bright celestial beams down cheerfully, casting a pale golden glow upon all of the rocky exterior of the lands. The grass growns lush and sweet, attracting equines of all allegiances to wonder at this great natural spectacle. And it is through all this natural beauty another beauty emerges, her pure alabaster pelt seeming to glitter under the light. Her inquisitive, amber gaze, sweeps over the terrain, the emotions within them ever changing as she paces slowly through the lands. Slender pillars slowly come to a halt as the belle gazes into the rippling pools of water, her mind filled with memories and slivers of the past.

She has not been to this place for many years, for the memories it holds were too painful for her to relive. But now, she is fillled with a burning desire to see these lands again, to confront the past and let it go. A soft smile plays upon her ashen maw as she recognises many of the places where her and Legesain used to stand. For a moment she thinks she sees herself, younger than she is now, prancing around striking blood bay brute, smiling as the two caress each other in the silent surroundings of the waterfall. But she blinks, and shakes her beautiful cran violently, and the duo are gone, and she sees a place where love once used to flourish, but now is no more than an empty cave.

Sighing softly, Dancer walks forward into that small alcove, shaded from the intense brightness of the golden sun by the rock above her frame. Making no noise whatsoever as her flints move slowly over the rocky terrain, the feminine rests against the side of the cave, happy to stand in silence and think of her past, filled with such happiness, but then such heartbreak. [.x.]

the cool air created by the casading falls caressed the bodices of the two equines who approached. a sun-kissed femmora and a flame thrown stag. the pristine's sigh alerted them of her presence. The golden fae stepped foward, her tiara low, whickering softly to the fae. She seemed familiar some how, yet the mare could not place her. The stag on the other hand stood back, slightly in awe of the beauty of the femme before him.
the golden fae turned her tiara to the stag who accompanied her. seeing his fae, completely lost in the fae she smiled, hiding her laughter. she shook her tiara and turned back to the fae, a presence about the other fae maing her wait to be addresed.

[.x.] Dancer's keen auds catch the steady flint-falls of the advancing duo long before her orbs could lay upon them. Shifting her rump slighty to the side to avoid the fine spray of the crystalline aqua now beginning to drench her left quarter, the alabaster belle eyes the pair through her long, ivory forelock. No names for them immediately springing to mind, the Princess turns away from them, directing her gaze instead to the gently rippling pool of water at her flints. Tossing her silken banners from her beautiful visage, Dancer's thoughts turn once again to the past, wondering if Legesain has been back to the waterfall since his return to the mortal plains. Most likely not. She has heard whispers he has named some fae his queen, and no doubt Legesain is anxious to create an heir to carry on his lines, not dwell on past memories of happy times.

A soft whicker interrupts her thoughts, and, her auds tracing the source of the greeting, the ivory feminine slowly turns her tiara to one side to look upon the advancing vixen. Moving her liquid amber gaze to the brujo, she quickly averts her orbs as she sees him staring at her. She looks once again to the unknown femmora, noting the low angle the fae's cran is held, and dips her tiara gently in greeting, finding no need for words. Realising that the bruja probably knows of her identity, she resists the urge to sigh, wishing that she could just have a normal conversation with an equine. They always treated her differently when she found out she was a Princess. Well, it wasn't so much of a suprise when they did find out, one look at her and they had usually figured it out. Hopefully this 'ess hasn't figured it out yet.

She smiles in welcome to the feminine, and then in turn to the flame-thrown brujo, a soft, gentle smile that flickered upon her kissers for but a moment, completed by the friendly spark within her dazzling orbs. This gesture is nothing grand, nor overly welcoming, but the welcoming aura surrounding her should make it plain to the duo they should join her underneath the waterfall. Casting Legesain from her thoughts, determined that she shall not dwell on bad memories, instead fill these days with joy and peace, the calm before the storm that war is sure to bring. [.x.]

the golden fae stepped forward. sensing the stag had not yet moved she turned her cran sharply and glared. she reached back and nipped him hard on the chest. this finally seemed to wake the awe-struck stag and he stook his cran she stepped alongside the fae. embarrassed he would not look at the royal before him, for that was what she was. he had not bet the fae, but had heard stories of her and she was far greater that any words could portray.

the fae stepped lightly under the cascading waters and stood before their new company.
'vning. she uttered, her voice almost inaudible above the din of the water.
i hope we are not intruding...she continued, flinging her tiara in search of perhaps another equine.

[.x.] The Princess smiles once again at the fae as she takes obvious control of the czar, who still seems to be staring at her. Suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable under his gaze, as if she is betraying Hacer by allowing him to watch her like this, she attempts to ignore the feeling and returns her attentions to the sun-brushed femme nering him. Shifting her rump sideways to allow the bruja more space, she dips her tiara to her and whickers a soft greeting. Liquid amber opticals tracing the path of the brujo as he follows the femme into the small space between the waterfall and the rock shelf, Dancer tips her cerebrum to him, bending a foreleg slightly as she does so. As the masculine nears her, she notices he now doesn't seem to want to look at her anymore. Perhaps he is shy. As the belle speaks, Dancer's tapered harks flicker attentively to catch her smooth lyricals. She tosses her banners for a moment, and then parts her ivory kissers to answer the femmora in light, friendly tones.

"Evening to ye both." she says, tipping her crania to one side as she listens to the femme's next comments. Shaking her tiara lightly, she answer the belle. "Nay, nothing of the sort. I merely ventured here to admire the beauty of this place. It has always held a place special place in my heart, even when I was a little flicka." she says, a special meaning imprinted into her words about the place having a place in her heart, but of course the fae will not know that. Only her, Autumn, and of course Legesain know anything about it, unless of course Legesain has told some of his family. Most probably not.

"May I ask your cursings?" she says politely, knowing full well their answer to this will probably lead to the questions about her own identity. Oh well, 'tis the downside of being a Princess, she supposes. Turning her gaze to the crashing waterfall, she admires the wild beauty of the cascading aqua near to her. Strange, how something with such beauty can possess such power, she muses to herself, watching the droplets hammer down mercilessly onto the rocks below. Sonar attentive to any response the duo will make, Dancer sighs contentedly and gazes passively into the crystalline pools that make up the destination of the falling water, glad that, for once, she actually has some company aside from her own family. [.x.]

the golden bella sidled next to the fae and smiled softly.
i be dubbed Spirit and this be my brother Wind. she said softly nodding to the stag beside her.
he is not usually so dumfounded amound fae's i must admit.she continued with a slight whicker.


the stag looked at his sister. it was obvious to him that she had no idea who this fae was. he had returned to some sort of normality and smiled softly at his sister - laughter in his eyes and then managed as glance at the royal fae before them. he watched her for a moment and then his orbs fell on the falls before them.

[.x.] Dancer's ivory kissers curve upwards into a friendly smile as the golden fae introduces herself. Whickering gently in laughter as Spirit speaks of her brother, the Princess turns her gaze to him and, glad that he has seemed to have gotten over his initial shyness, dips her tiara slightly to him. Formalities over, the silver-white feminine leans back against the sturdy rock wall of the alcove, glad to take some of the weight off her weary pillars. Lidding her orbs briefly she opens them again as she senses the brujo turn to his sister. Watching him look at her for a moment she returns her attentions to the falls, once again admiring the beauty of the rushing aqua. Parting her kissers to speak again, she decides to try and find out where they reside, if they have met Autumn it will be interesting to know what they think of him. Allowing her vocals to loose lyricals, she speaks to the duo in her soft, gentle tones.

"I am pleased to meet ye Wind and Spirit. It is nice to have some company for a change." she says quiety, her voice audibale over the crashing song of the waterfall. "Where do ye reside? I have no fixed home at the moment, although I do spend much of my time either here or at Silverstream Mountain." she says amicably, meeting the brujo orbs with her questioning gaze. [.x.]

Wind turned to face the fae, his kind orbs smiling.
my sister and her mate reside in the orchards. and that is where i am due to live. he said softly.
though we did travel to the mountain once... he looked at his sister for confirmation, she nodded.
we were greeted by the king. He brough sad news for my sister's mate.
he said, casting his orbs over spirit, whose dead dropped in slight sorrow.

[.x.] The silver belle turns her amber oculi to meet the twinkling gaze of the czar, her audits flickering attentively to catch his vocals. Nodding her radiant tiara in acknowledgment of his vocals, she halts slighty as the stag dubbed Wind speaks of Autumn bringing bad news for Alastor. Of course, it must have been about Euphoria. Her kind pools soften slightly as she recollects how painful it was for Autumn to have to tell Alastor that, to shatter all his hopes for the future with a few words. After all, something similar has happened to him, so it must grieve him immensly to bring on another such pain. Brushing those thoughts from her cran, she returns her tender gaze to the duo, a soft smile playing playing for but a moment upon her kissers afore she parts them to allow her melodical lyrics to flew from her tuneful chords.

"She is in a better place now, away from the madness of this world." Dancer sayd simply, taking a moment to relfect on all those whom have trodden upon the sod below her very flints and have moved on, and whom are now relaxing in the eternal paradise of Blaze's lands. She does not dwell on the Cursed's, whom are most likely burning in the fires of the Shadowed God's hells. [.x.]

Like a storm the hellion broke upon the gorup silently and swiftly. The devil watched from the cover of the vegetation, watching and listening. The femmoras and the pathetic stag. Staring at Dancer as if she was the greatest thing on this damned earth. Legesain nearly laughed. Made him sick it did. Still the thought of Dancer couldn't help but make him think of a fairer femme.

The one that managed to do what only Dancer had accomplished before. She had managed to capture the beast's heart. Kasumi controlled Legesain though she might not even know it. And still, Legesain would have it no other way. Now the darks had a true queen and soon an heir as well.

Legesain walked from his cover and into the open unaraid. He stood with pride and arrogance. But hell couldn't he afford to be arrogant. He was immortal after all. He feared only one, the dark god. All others were like ants, he cared not if they lived or died. They all meant the same to him. And now the great damned soul was surrounded by pathetic lights. They probably felt pretty cocky outnumbering him. But little did they know. Well maybe Dancer would know somewhat.

He moved forward without permission or a word. Moved straight to Dancer, stopping when he was only a few centimeter away. To close for comfort. His maw moved across her flawless nape slow and seductively. It was all for show. His glance moved to the stag who was acting like a lovestruck colt. A smirk spread over his librims. Before Dancer could move, he raised his maw to her sonar.

"Now Dancer, hell isn't all that bad. After all it allows you to feel all sins, like lust."

He said in a low and husky tone. He moved away swiftly, just waiting for some kind of reaction from the wench. His gaze moved to the other wench in the area. He moved confidently to her and stood just as close, his unwanted gaze lingering on her curves.

"Who might you be? A sunkisser no doubt. A shame, a true shame."

The brute said, masking his tone in regret. A fine wretch she was. Though she was only fit for the force breeding of a dark. Lucky for her he wasn't like most dark brutes. He had the love of a belle. He needed no bastard from some disgrace of a mare. His gaze moved to the stallion but he dismissed him. He was certainly no threat. If anything a possible kill.

the brujo snorted at the demon arrival. he lowered his cran and a low growl emited from the depths of his throat. fangs bared he watched the stag knowing exactly who he was. as the devil stepped towards Spirit, Wind leapt between them, forcing the demon away from his sister.

Spirit quivered with a mixture of fear and anger at the demon's arrival. She bared her teeth in anger, though these two equines had not met - the battle ground they had shared and those memories were stil raw in the belle's mind. As he stepped towards her, she baulked back, rump pressed firmly against the rocky wall of the falls. Fear fulled her orbs. She was just about to response when Wind jumped before her. Whilst the bulk of her brother made her feel slightly safer, she could not help but feel he was intruding. Snorting slightly she watched Legesain and her brother.

(bit lame - sorry musey a bit ill at the moment! lol!)

[.x.] The amberite opticals of the ivory femmora turn to consider her surroundings as she awaits an answer from the duo afore her. As none are forthcoming, she sighs quietly and stays silent, watching the cascading aqua with a sort of passive interest. Slightly in awe of the titanic weight of the rushing water, and the seemingly unnatural grace with which it falls, a fleeting smile passes upon her kissers, full of wonder and reverence for the sight afore her. Her sonar, attentive to the tuneful calls of the many birds that make their home within this beautiful land, flicker slightly as she takes in the notes of one song in particular. She watches a brood of delicate little starlings, singing their cheery melodies to the world, suddenly evicted from their home by a ferocious band of larger winged creatures. Cawing viciously, the larger birds flap their ebon feathers in obvious dominance, and claim the patch as their own. Frowning slightly as the larger birds settle into their new territory as if nothing has happened, and the starlings flutter miserably off into the distance, it makes her wonder whether or not it is only equines that have to battle with the forces of evil. After all, why should her kind be the only ones to suffer?

Pondering this for a moment, Dancer's thoughts are abruptly brought to an end as an unnaturally chilly wind erupts through the terrain, biting at her flawless hide, and causing her to shiver slightly as she backs into the alcove for shelter. As she looks out across the waters, and the temperature of the land returns to normal, she could swear she can see the blood-bay hues of brute, ones that look uncannily like Legesain. Shaking her cerebrum slightly, sure it is her imagination playing tricks on her again, the silvery femmora opens her eyes and feels a cold pit of dread form at the bottom of her stomach as she looks upon the advancing frame of the hellion. Considering his frame, Dancer is not surprised as she notices all the differences between the Legesain she used to love, and the one that walks toward her now. His pools, once so bright and full of life, are now merely endless windows into the very depths of hell itself. His features are twisted and full of hatred, with huge amounts of arrogance etched within their form. Looking quickly to the duo next to her, she wonders if they know of the danger they are in. Merely looking into the bastards stormy pools could kill them.

As he advances, she finds that, strangely, all her initial shock of his appearance has melted away, and been replaced with a strong feeling of loathing. Whickering a soft warning to the duo behind her to keep away from him, Dancer strides toward Legesain, determined not to be cornered by the blood-drenched hessian nearing her. A soft hiss comes from her chords as he nears her, and keeps on moving nearer her, finally coming to a halt merely more than a centimetre from her own form, his maw brushing hers for a moments afore he caresses her nape in a slow and seductive manner, her skin tingling slightly as his touch washes a cold feeling all over her, as though his flesh is frozen solid. She snaps angrily at his nape, fully aware that he is immune to all weaknesses of the flesh, although her gesture is more a warning than an attack. Her nares picking up the putrid stench of his oh-so precious wench upon his flesh, she growls loudly and begins to shift away from him slightly, although her movements are halted momentarily as he speaks to her in his cold lyrics. Not troubling herself to reply to his words, the silver Princess watches warily as he moves toward Spirit, knowing full well her and Wind will be not threat at all to him. He can sweep them aside as easily as the wind picks up and manipulates the autumn leaves. Taking a few steps in his direction, she prepares herself to intervene if the situation turns nasty. Growling a soft warning to Wind as she notices how riled the brujo is becoming, she moves quickly forward at the same time Wind does, so that as the czar moves to protect his sister, Dancer moves to protect the stag. Swishing her ivory flag angrily, she glares fiercely at Legesain, the hate and disgust of a million Sacreds blazing within her fiery oculi.

"Why are you here, Legesain? she asks coldly, her vocals laced with a challenging tone as she speaks to him. He may be able to frighten the other belle, but Dancer knows him as so few do, and she knows the best way to deal with his ravings are to challenge them, for if you show any tiny flicker of fear, that it is the end of you. Tossing her banners violently from her visage, the Sacred Princess shifts her rump slightly so the brujo behind her is fully protected, waiting for Legesain's next move. [.x.]

The hellion smirked as growl was admitted from the wench's vocals. He was tempted to move closer. Scare her even more. Show how he feared no one but the gods themselves should shiver when his name graced their sonar. Instead he merely parted his dark librims to spill out curses from his maw. his oh so precious wench, damn right. That wench got farther than Dancer ever did. The wench showed him what love meant and he knew unlike others she wouldn't walk away from him.

"Remember wench, you left me to die on the battlefield. You became the whore for another and bore his damned brat."


Legesain watched as the pathetic excuse for a stag tried to come in between him in the mare. He had no reason to be upset it was not as if Legesain would do harm to the filth before him unless given reason to. An evil snarl was given in return to the stag's growl. This was a stupid one. Thinking he could dare challenge the King and live to tell about it. Legesain snapped quicklly at the stag's shoulder ready to tear flesh.

He withdrew, sure he had hit the stag. It would be almost impossible for him to miss given his abnormal speed and accuracy. He snorted and drew his crown in a sign of nobility which he deserved. Not even a light could refuse him that, it was his rightful action being a King. He looked down upon the stag like he was nothing more than dirt, which to the hellion he might as well be. He with the other lights would die anyway. It would be more of an honor for Legesain to take the time to end the bastard's life right now.

Legesain was interrupted from his thoughts of malice as the wench dove in between him in the stag. He laughed at the sight, a whore protecting a bastard. Well this was something seen rarely even with the coward lights. Then murmurs drifted up to his sonar. His librims curled up into a slight smirk and yet still a deadly snarl.

"Dancer if I remember correctly this is the free lands, meaning I can go where I damn well please. Now if you or any of your other sunkissing filth want to try and rid me of this terrain, be my guest."

He snarled in a low tone, his threat was not one to be shrugged away. The hellion was hungry from bloodshed, having been denied it for so long. He was ready for a fight he knew he would win. His glare shifed to the stallion behind Dancer. Personally Legesain wouldn't mind for that equine to be the one to go.

The wind blew feircely over the pool, catching its spray in its grasp and dropping it over the hostile equines. Spirit shivered slightly as the coldness set in on ther sun-kissed pelt. She had no desire for a blood-shed. She had seen enough to last her two life times. She raised her tiara slightly, scanning her surroundings for a way for escape, but she could see none but the one the devil blocked. She quivered slightly, turning her attention back to the other equines.
Wind snapped angrily as the demon attacked his shoulder. Neighing loudly he stamped furiously anger boiling deep within him. At the Princess' movements he stepped back, slightly taken aback by her brave, or perhaps stupid movements. Lowering his cran once more he forced Spirit further behind him and made to step forward, infront of Dancer. He pushed her gently with his mug, trying to get her to stand with Spirit behind him.

[.x.] The hellions cold gaze is returned with Dancer's loathsome one, her firey orbs blazing with hate for the brujo. Her sonar flickers slightly as he parts his damned librims and speaks to her, orbs narrowing slightly in anger as he challenges her about Hacer and Elessar. What the devil was she supposed to do, mope about forever, pining for some immature bastard who murdered her own kin? Watching silently as Legesains attentions move to the stag behind her, whom she is sure is sufficiently bemused by her actions, she eyes Legesain coldly as he raises his crown up to a higher level than theirs. One brow raised, she too throws her crown up to a regal level defiantly, reminding him that he is not the only royal standing here.. Legesain may think he above all of them, with his noble bloodlines and cocky attitude to match, but he forgets that even though it is his right to behave in such a regal manner towards them, she is bloody well allowed to behave in the same manner back. Her lines run as pure as his do - if anything happens to Autumn it will be her job to take his place as Queen. Tiara held at the same level as the hellions, she turns slightly and observes the Blessed stag behind her as he nudges her alabaster peltage with his maw, somewhat commandingly as he gestures that she should move behind him. Dancer shakes her tiara in disagreement, telling the brujo without words that the sky will have to fall atop of her before she will stand back like a helpless femme and allow Wind to face the wrath of Legesain alone. An extremely proficient warrioress she is, her strength rivaling the spawn of the devil himself, Rebel, but she knows even her and Wind's combined efforts will be no match for Legesain. After all, he is immortal now. Feeling a hot rush of anger boil deep within her as her amber opticals observe his smirk, she growls even louder, her tones rumbling from her vocals furiously.

Hearing the malice in his tones she snorts loudly in laughter, unafraid of his somewhat threatening vocals. A Sacred Princess she may be, but this bruja has a firey spirit inside her as well as the tender grace that is expected of her .Rolling her orbs slightly, she parts her kissers to answer him in her own cold, harsh tones.

"Yes Legesain, you can go where you damn well want. It's just, I was wondering why the devil such a noble bastard as yourself would want to trouble your little Cursed bones on pitiful mortals like us? Surely your precious wench wants you back at her side? she says harshly, her tones laced with malice as she glares at him fiercely. Noticing Wind seems to be becoming increasingly riled, she falls silent for a moment and watches him, shooting the occaisional glance back to Legesain, wondering how he will react to her vocals. [.x.]

Slinking quietly through the thick botany came a gright bay brujo, stepping carefully over the pebbly ground, his limp very noticable as he anxiously avoids putting pressure upon his permanantly injured hind limb. Before the great battle, he had been a jovial, frolicing and playful sort, but no more... the poor fellow's spirit was quite broken, though he always tried to carry himself with a positive, cheery air.

This place, this waterfall, is where his beloved had asked him to come, and she reluctantly had left him to follow her at his own pace. He had wanted her to have some time to herself with her brother Wind. Now he was here, and voices and scent bourne on the oxi told him he was close. Tentativly he reveiled himself, expecting only to see two equines familiar to him, but instead what he found baulked him with suprise.

spirit's nostrils flared wildly as a new scent was caught in them. recognising it instantly as it was that of her beloved she raised her cran slightly, trying to spy him without being noticed. she saw him moved awkwardly through the trees and smiled inspite of herself. the sight of him, crippled or not would always make her smile. with a snort she tried to get his attention - telling him with her orbs to get away - not to come any closer for she could not bare to lose him.
she shook her banner and turned to face the demon, her orbs empty hoping he had not yet spotted the newest arrival

Alastor catches sight of is beloved as he exits the cover of the trees and limps on, reading her body language seconds too late he ends up in the open - in sight to Spirit and the strangers about her. All of his instincts told him to turn and hide his crippled body in the shadows of the trees, but Spirit's warnings, as urgent as they were, meant that she was in danger too - and nobody was allowed to hurt his beautiful girl in any way, not while he still drew breath. Disabled or otherwise, Alastor still had enough of his spirit intact to protect his love.

With a gulp and a brave step he breaks free of the forest's protection and slowly moves in front of his gilded darling, noticing that the other mare, a stunning, proud, sleek and silvery creature, was being guarded by a chestnut stallion. Alastor recognised him instantly as Wind, Spirit's brother, and he also felt his respect for him double.

spirit's soul cried out silently when alastor stepped forward, her head calling for him to return to the shadows, yet her heart taken by his brave move for her safetly. The knowledge of the extent of the danger he was putting himself in for her only made her love him more.
As her barracade moved between her and the demon she could not help but reach out with her mug to touch her love's shoulder, thankful that he was here, breathing in his scent that was so familar, and she missed so much.

Wind snorted at the arrival of the equine. It took him a moment to recoginse the cripple and was not please by the sight of him. Wind was a typical brother in more ways that one. Not only would he risk his life for his sister, he would eternally judge those who called themselves her love. Whilst he knew Alastor was a good and kind sort he felt deep in his bone that he was not suitable for Spirit.
He crinkled his nostrils in slight disgust as Alastor limped towards them. How could he, one who could barely walk and support his own weight even hope to protect his sister? Wind eyed him angrily, his venomous thoughts distracting him from the demon before him.

Alastor felt his moment of bravery marred by the look he caught on Wind's facade; a look of disgust. The respect that he had held for him a moment ago plummeted to hit the ground.

Judgemental... jerk... He mumbles under his breath, anger boiling in his frame. Alastor knew the limitations placed upon him because of his injury, but he was not completely worthless... was he?.

Limitations... He thinks, concentrating on his pain, feeling no more than a twinging in his hind that warranted little more than a mild limp. The touch on his blade that he gets from his love stops his thoughts and lets him know that at least someone believes in and appreciates him - and it is really only her opinion, his beautiful Spirit's opinion, that matters.

I placed these 'limitations' upon myself... I am not old, I am not broken, and I will stand and fight. No limitations. He thinks in defiance of his injury, feeling the pain of it fade even more to his amazement.

Holding his cran high and looking down upon whomever it was that was bullying a pair of mares (a pathetic act indeed) he feels his spirit whole in him for the first time since before the Great Battle. Standing strong and tall he beats his foreflint upon the rock so that harsh cracks rang out as he feels his protectiveness over Spirit evolve into hatred for they who threaten her. He looks as if all the pain and humiliation of his injury has left him, to be replaced with pride and strength of heart.

For it wasn't the physicality of his injury that had held him back, for it really was little more than a dull pain nowdays, it was the mental humiliation and the feeling of restraint and uselessness that had broken his spirit and so 'crippled' him. But no longer, for now he stood free of doubt, a chivilrous knight, strength and spirit rekindled, come to protect his fair lady. He would not fall.

Behind his dam the svelte dappled colt hides, and the deep tension in the air tells him that he should remain right where he is in this thick undergrowth. The same strong instinct tells him that he should not have followed his mother here either, but he was so young that his curiosity was insatiable...

Mummy... He whispers gently from his hiding place, hoping beyond hope that she would hear his tiny voice that falls quite dead after crawling reluctantly from his darkly dappled librims. When his dam does not respond at all, he calls again,

Mother... He whispers again, but far more urgently, suprising himself with the volume of the call. Frightened, he burries himself deeper into the thicket, hoping that none of the strangers heard him. As tears press behind his optics he wishes that he had been able to quiet his curiosity, and had stayed at his father's side.

The golden bella flicked her elegant tresses off her neck, snorting slightly to blow away her forelock which tickled her deep amber orbs.
She cast her glance from her beloved towards the damnation before them and the other two equines in her presence. She too could feel the dislike reeling from her brother, but she stamped that from her mind now. This was not the time or place to be a big brother, Wind, she thought, throwing him a sharp look before resting her gentle orbs on her mate.
She saw a change in him. In the short spanse of time her orbs had left him, he had become a new equine. No longer was her crippled by the injury sustained to him pillars. He stood beyond the pain and the mental injury he had sustained. Spirit could not help but smile as he watched him and her heart melted as it had the first time she had laid sight on him. This was the stag she had loved all this time.
At his strike she threw her tiara, only just stopping a whinny echoing from her maw.

But a sudden noise turned caught her auds. Her brother's too. He turned to face her, and she narrowed her orbs, telling him silently not to turn his back to the demon. Wind snorted and faced the brute again. It was Spirit who took a tiny step sideways, towards a nearby thicket where the noise had come from. She dropped her tiara, as if to itch her foreleg and glanced through the thickness of the leaves.
She could just make out the tiny frame of a young coltine.
Spirit controlled her gasp and moved a little closer.
Stay there little one, you are safest there. she whispered, hoping her almost unauidble lyrics would reach the young one.
She knew not where he had come from or to whom he belonged, but she guessed it was the bantle of the fae Dancer. She straightened and forced a neutral look upon her facade - hoping that Legesain was not paying too much attention to her.

Orbs focused on the light whore before him, ignoring the idiot stallion next to her. He obiviously didn't get the fact that he wouldn't stand a chance against Legesain and sadly even Dancer was a better fighter than this light. So why didn't he stand back like a good little sun kisser and wait his turn to be slaughtered. His attention moved back to Dancer as her crown suddenly gained altitude. An amused smirk pressed against his librims. His mind pushed slowly into her own as he read her thoughts about royalty, holding back a laugh he slowly parted his lips to form words. His tone was harsh and cold, but calm at the same time. Like a dam schooling an unliked foal. The harsh sun filtered in through the trees, catching his chestnut coat. It made it look almost as if his frame was on fire to the normal optic. An optical illusion of sorts. However, he still felt the spray of the waterfall not far off, making the terrain humid, wet, and sticky. He shook his frame in slight annoyance.

"You forget that nothing has happened to Autumn, therefore you are not a queen. You are still a princess. So no, Dancer, you have no right to compare yourself to the responsibility of a queen or king. Compared to them, you are still merely a foal. So do not forget your place. If you are killed it will be sad, but nothing more. If your kin is killed it would start a war, that is the difference."

He said without a curse or snarl, in fact he sounded oddly calm and serious. Twas true, Dancer was not a queen and so she had not yet deserved the right to hold her cran at a queen's level. In a final statement the brute raised his crown a little higher, to show he was not just trying to upset her and his words rang true. His souless pools watched her, waiting for a response or reaction. Wondering if his words had hurt or angered. Suddenly his attention was stolen away as a newcomer stepped into veiw. Well, it was hard to sneak by Legesain without noticing. He was not just some bumbling fool. His lip curled slightly in disgust at the sight, a cripple. They must be joking. This is who was to protect the fea, her cripple mate. How sad, Legesain was unsure if he should laugh or pity them. His sonar flickered away from his skull for a second as his brain resgistered the fact that Dancer was talking to him. Glare moved to her form as words emmited from her mouth. An eyebrow made an arch at her words. With a toss of his cran he parted his lips to form words in response.

"So you are saying I shouldn't venture into free lands simply because of the fact that filth seems to appear everywhere I go?"

He said, playing the stupid act, his words sounded almost as if he was really curious and looking to her for the answer. At the word filth, his glare moved to the others standing near the princess. He rolled his optics, why don't they just go home. It's not like they are saying anything important, just arguing among themselves. His librims parted once more to answer her second question, his gaze remaining on the weaker sun kissers.

"My Queen is safe at home, caring for our heir. I did not want to risk her safety around such digusting creatures."

He spat, his gaze moving to the cripple once more as he pried into his mind. The stag looked familiar. A snort was heard as he read the thoughts of Legesain "bullying" the mares.

"I was also bullying the judgemental jerk. Besides, there's not much you can do about this ...pathetic act, can you? It's not really that pathetic, these mares are practically stags, they are stronger than you after all."

He snarled, attempting to get into the mind of this ex-warrior. He already knew one obvious weakness, all he would have to do is focus on that. Though the old bastard did look familar, where he had seen him the King could not remember though. Nares flared softly as he caught the scent of another. A young another. His gaze followed where the scent was coming from and landed upon the form of a foal. A low snarl came from his lips. What? Were they forming a herd here or something? What is with all the sun kissers coming to this one spot? This must be the only way they survive, because it seems like when one is aggravated they all coming crawling over.

[.x.] Dancer's liquid amber gaze follows that of Legesain's, toward the brujo near her. Sonar pricked attentively atop her tiara, Dancer feels a hot rush of anger boil inside her as she watches a slow smirk of amusement spread across the librims of the dark brute at Wind's brave actions, stupid as they may be. Turning her fiery orbs to him, the light Princess meets his gaze and parts her librims to form words, meant only for Wind's sonar, but more than likely drifting toward Legesain too.

"Wind, please, just get out of here. Run. And take Spirit with you. I have seen enough bloodshed by his daggers to last me a lifetime; I cannot have your deaths on my conscience too." she says quietly, hoping her lyricals would persuade Wind and Spirit to leave. He doesn't understand how powerful Legesain is - in fact, no one does. There are only a select few still living that have experience of his power, and she knows he is not one to be underestimated. However much she may loath and despise him, there is no denying that he is the most powerful being that has walked these lands for generations, with power enough to take each and every race inhabiting these lands by force, slaughtering all who stand in his way. He doesn't particularly need supporters - a small band of loyal and also disposable minions is all he needs to do his bidding. He can finish everything else off himself. Returning her attentions to Wind, Dancer awaits his quiet reply, auds straining to catch his deep vocals over the crashing of the waterfall. They are like ants to him, and she supposes she is considered the same, along with the rest of her kind. She knows that he will have no qualms in killing them, and also knows that even their best efforts will be more than useless of his desire to slaughter them is great enough. Narrowing her optics slightly as the suns rays beam brightly through the trees, and noticing the crimson glow surrounding Legesain's frame, making him look as though he is ablaze with scarlet fire, she shakes her tiara slightly, in an effort to clear her vision. Also noticing the increasing humidity of the terrain, and the fine, filmy atmosphere penetrating her fine alabaster peltage, Dancer too shakes her bodice roughly, dispersing some of the moisture to the sides of her, but still leaving her epidermis uncomfortably damp, the sense heightened by the heat radiating from the group, who are all enclosed together in a somewhat small space.

A cold, but oddly calm voice penetrates her thoughts. She turns her attentions back to Legesain, listening to his reply to her vocals attentively, staring coldly into his icy pools as he speaks. Throwing her tiara slightly, tossing her snowy white banners from her features in order to gain a clearer view of Legesain as he speaks. As the brujo finishes off his somewhat mocking speech with a dominant throw of his crania and a piercing stare toward her. Staring back into his pools, resisting the urge to look down and free herself from the uncomfortable sensation of an immortal demon seemingly gazing into her very soul. Shifting her haunches slightly to one side, completely forgetting about the equines near her, the light princess takes one step forward, parting her librims to speak in a daring tone, her orbs still fixed upon the hellion.

"Well, why don't you just kill me then, instead of spitting insults and making empty threats?" Her tones are delivered in a harsh tone, knowing full well that she is treading a very thin line between keeping on Legesain's good side, and his bad one. What she has just said is probably extremely stupid, and as time passes, and Legesain says nothing, she begins to wonder what he is thinking. Sometimes having a power such as Legesain's - the power to read minds and to control the beings around you - could prove to be extremely useful. As she awaits a response, Dancer notices that Legesain seems to have suddenly dismissed her and her previous vocals, and has now focused his attentions on another equine entering the terrain. Great - another target for Legesain. The being still hidden out of sight, the alabaster princess focuses her attentions and strains her sonar to catch the flint-falls of the approaching equine. Her auds catching the uneven rhythm of his steps, Dancer realises that the equine that she can now identify as a brujo must be either dreadfully lame, or crippled. As the bright bay comes into view, Dancer immediately recognises him as Alastor, the brave and cheery fellow she always seems to bump into during her visits to Silverstream Mountain. Knowing he is Spirits beloved, Dancer quickly turns her gaze to the femme, feeling her heart sink as the brujo hobbles slowly toward them, determination etched clearly within his orbs as he takes in the scene before him. Noticing the desperate look upon Spirits visage, and the disgusted, but also slightly amused look upon Legesain's, Dancer gives Alastor a welcoming smile as he approaches, noticing how he seems to grow in height and bulk as a braver look takes the place of the humiliation and embarrassment shown a moment ago.

As Legesain speaks, and replies to her earlier vocals, Dancer listens almost politely, careful to keep the trio behind her in her gaze, noticing how they seem to have forgotten Legesain due to the unfolding of their own saga between Wind and Alastor. Rolling her orbs slightly, she turns back to face Legesain, knowing that she cannot let her guard down, or that will be the end of them all. She knows that Alastor’s obvious physical weakness will be the focus of Legesain's attentions. That shows what a spineless bastard he really is. Picking on the faes, the foals, and the injured first, and then finishing off the stags later. Well, Dancer certainly won't let that happen to any of them without a fight. As he concludes his curses, Dancer starts responds almost immediately, trying to keep the conversation flowing so as not to allow Legesain to get distracted and start picking on the three behind her, trying to give them time to sort themselves out and remember why they are in so much danger in the first place. As he mentions filth, she notices that his gaze moves to the three behind her. She knows he is thinking exactly what she is. They have no part in this - this is between her and Legesain, not them. They are just endangering their own lives, and she knows that soon, very soon, Legesain will get bored and slaughter one of them for his own amusement.

Her cran whipping to the side as cold tones are emitted to her right, Dancer snorts loudly in laughter as Legesain speaks, unable to contain herself as he speaks. Feeling utterly repulsed as he directs his vocals in the direction of Alastor, referring to his disability. Bloody jerk. Parting her own librims to answer him, a sarcastic growl graces her tones as she addresses him in her harsh lyricals.

"I trust that is why you have removed yourself from her regal presence then?" she says coldly, referring to Legesain's description of 'disgusting creatures'. Turning her gaze to Alastor has Legesain addresses him directly; she prays that Alastor doesn't try anything stupid. An injury to one of them will surely spark off the others, and will probably lead to them all launching themselves at Legesain - something she wants to avoid if at all possible.

Glaring fiercely at Legesain, her seething thoughts of hate and anger are interrupted by the somewhat curious growl of Legesain as he advances upon a small patch of foliage at the rear of the terrain. Her alert sonar catching a small voice floating from the undergrowth, she recognises it instantly as Elessar. Feeling a sudden cold pit of fear form at the bottom of her stomach, Dancer closes her orbs briefly for a moment, wondering how it can get any worse. Distinctly hearing the word 'Mummy' coming from the bushes, this confirms her suspicions that it is indeed Elessar hiding there. Hearing the low snarl coming from Legesain in utter disbelief, Dancer coughs loudly in an attempt to make him forget about the coltine hiding in the bushes. Hardly daring to breathe, Dancer faces Legesain, all sarcasm and hate gone from her pools, only to be replaced by utter terror for the little coltine hiding in the shadows of the bushes. [.x.]

The brute continued to watch the foal, something about it pulling at his memory. Why was it familar? He snorted and took another step closer, his souless pools focusing on the brat. Surely it was not one of his race and he knew few neutral or light foals. So why did this one seem to strike a memory. His nares flared as he took in the bastard's scent as he tried to figure out if he might recognize that. Then he realized, beside the foal's own scent it reeked of his sire and dam. It was the dam he recognized. Then, by chance, the wind shifted in direction and carried Dancer's scent towards the demon as if confirming his thoughts. The bantling belonged to the light whore standing only a few feet away. Legesain's cran whipped to the side to glare at Dancer, a cruel smirk covered his maw. His expression was much like a snake that had just spotted it's prey. Prey that the snake knew all to well that it would not get away. His eyes narrowed as that knowning smirk almost mocked Dancer. He could tell easily that too late had she found out just what precious life had wandered into their group. He took a few more steps towards the bantle till he was directly in front of it, his smirk growing wider at Dancer's pathetic attempt to distract him. No his attention would not sway that easily. His cold gaze remained on the brat, as he waited for some sign of fear. Unfortunatly it was common that the innocent knew not to fear him.

The hellion smirked slightly at the foal, his gaze turned to Dancer. He watched her for a moment with his cold optics. He loved how defenseless she suddenly looked. A nice change from the stubborn side of her that was often shown. He tossed his cran slightly, his mane flying in the air for a moment before coming to rest on his shoulder once more. His harks pinned slightly as no one spoke, his brain returning to the words Dancer had muttered only moments before. Something about him killing her. Don't tempt me dearie, he thought with malice. Instead, he remained silent for a moment, just watching the group. Apparently the stag was still not listening and remained there with his family. They deserved to die, they were too stupid to save their own necks. If a dark felt threatened by someone they could not fight and win, it would have the sense to back down and leave. Not stand as if dumbfounded by the situation they were in. Disgusting. How dare these animals even compare themselves to his race. Still his cold pools drifted over to the young femme standing across from him. Suddenly he was in an old scene, did it not seem like just yesterday they had stood here confessing their undying love to each other. He hadn't appeared much younger back then, for time no longer affected him. But his eyes had said differently, they used to have a sense of innocence that most that had yet to see death had. Now they were souless and cruel. What had drawn them apart? Ah, he remembered now. Legesain had finally picked a side, leaving his precious Dancer and giving his attention to those of his race, He had been kinder back then, even befriended a female from his land. Things could have been different. But could Dancer really blame him? After all if you stand for nothing you will surely fall for anything. Just like her he had chose his path, his race was his responsibility.

The two races hated each other, they always had. Sometimes bringing destruction to the land to prove what? In the end they would always start fighting again. There was no end, no such thing as peace. So why did he fight? Because he would rather fight than live a life cowering down to someone. With this thought he tossed his cran as if mentally shaking himself. These thoughts did not help, they only made him weaker. Feeling regret, sadness, and love with something only mortals did. His thoughts returned to Dancer's previous words, realizing he had yet to reply to them. He remembered her daring tone, almost tempting her to prove he could not or would not kill her. She needed to put less faith in his actions, and stop constantly believing he wasn't the monster so many thought him to be. So easily he could take her soul, something her healing powers could not stop. However, he felt as if it would be a useless waste of time to do so. Though he would never say, that previous thought is the exact reason he had yet to kill this band of misfits. What purpose would he fufill in killing them? Nobles and royals perhaps but peasants were hardly something he was worried about.

"Because dear Dancer, I do not just create sadness; I start wars."

He drawled in an almost bored tone as his words reffered to his earlier comment about her position. His pools flickered to the other horses before returning to the princess. Without a word, he carelessly skimmed her thoughts, simply curious as to what she was thinking. He could tell she was worried she had gone too far, but still refused to back down. Typical light, would annoy you to the death then regret it did so later. Legesain did not need to read her thoughts to feel the hatred that she felt for him, at this though he tipped his cran as if he did not quite understand. So much hate for a creature that had only killed one of her relatives. Legesain disliked the lights very much but they didn't quite achieve the position of mortal enemy. Which Dancer seemed to have marked him as. After a few moments of staring and watching her vocals float to his sonar. A cold and evil, yet dangerously beautiful sound took over the silence. Yes the prince of the night was laughing. It seems Dancer's words about his queen had amused him slightly. A smirk replaced his amusement as he paused before replying, though instead of pleased his tone was cold.

"Such wit young princess, it really is a shame you lack the common sense to know when is the appropiate time and place to use it. Like one might say using it to anger the dark king when your bantle stood only feet away wouldn't be wise."

He said coldly, though his tone had yet to show anger. He was waiting for Dancer's next move before either backing off or sparking his anger. True, his revenge stood cowering beside him. Then it would only be a short run to travel to the lights terrain and seek out Dancer's mate. So why did he hesitate? Because his young mind had suddenly matured, the femme was no longer important to him. Instead of releasing his anger on her, he plotted against her kin. Now it was the light king he wanted to destroy, then his little followers soon after. No longer did Legesain care about the light wench's heart. His only desire was the land this mother had discovered so long ago.

[.x.] The femme watched in silence as Legesain surveyed the bantle with interest. Feeling her fear grow and grow, Dancer lidded her pools briefly, wondering why the devil the little coltine had followed her here in the first place. Surely Hacer was meant to be watching him? The young princeling’s curiosity was insatiable – a trait he had obviously inherited from his mother. Her thoughts turning to foalhood in general, Dancer remembered her own. Recalling all the times she used to wander off and get herself in all sorts of trouble. But never anything that put her in mortal danger.

A quiet sigh escaped her ivory kissers as memories of her and Autumn, often with their sire and dam standing close by, flooded her mind. She was so young and carefree then – as a matter of fact, they both were. And now, only a few years later, how had so much changed? It was strange how death and fear could force bantles to grow up quickly, before they were ready. One only had to look at Autumn for an example of this. He was only really still a coltine when their father was murdered. Looking up from the floor of the terrain, the alabaster vix was slightly startled to meet Legesain’s cold and unblinking gaze. As he continued to stare into her orbs, the femme knew what he was thinking. It was crossing her mind too. It all tied in with her earlier thoughts about how, in only the space of a few years, they had all changed so much. It seemed like only yesterday her and Legesain were here, proclaiming their eternal adoration to each other. Ha. Only one thing was immortal now, and it was standing right in front of her, probably thinking about how best to wreak his revenge upon her and her kin.

As the blood-drenched brujo before her fell silent for a moment, the Princess did too, recalling the reason they had gone their separate ways. Legesain had become the Dark King, and she had discovered that he was destined to murder her father. Of course, the leaders of each race always had their sights set on the leader of the other. Legesain had at first been sorrowful when he first saw the revelation – as the Shadowed prophet he could see everything that she could concerning visions. It was only after she informed him that the stag ripping out her father’s throat was actually him that everything had been ruined. Even now she could clearly remember the look in Legesain’s orbs. One firstly of surprise, and then acceptance. It was a fact of life – the two sides were never going to abide together in harmony. Not one race would be properly at peace until the other was crushed into the dust, never to step foot in the lands again. Legesain had a responsibility to his race as the rightful heir of the old King – as did Autumn. She did too – even, as Legesain had said, if she was not as important as her younger sibling. It would never have worked between them anyway. Legesain had said that alliances didn’t matter when they were together. She could not really understand why she believed him. Alliances had always mattered. They always did, and they always would. Maybe, in her heart, she knew that, but was just trying to convince herself otherwise.

Noticing the sudden change in the wind direction, feeling her tresses flutter slightly from her shoulder in response to the altering air, the vix dropped all thoughts of the past as Legesain turned to stare at her, an oddly triumphant smirk spreading across his librims. A cold feeling grew at the bottom of her stomach, knowing that he must have realised to whom the little bantle belonged. As the hellion strode forward cockily, Dancer followed him, feeling her heart pumping almost painfully in her chest. Watching cautiously as his smirk grew wider and wider, the Princess prayed that Elessar would have sense to turn and run. She could prevent Legesain pursuing the bantling for enough time for him to get away and find a safe place to hide if he did decide to run. The silence hung in the air almost uncomfortably, and, as Legesain continued to stare down at the coltine, the Sacred Princess found herself beginning to wonder why he was not doing anything. What the devil was he waiting for? Was he expecting her to rush forward and beg for his life? Well, she was certainly prepared to do that if it would save the life of her beloved little coltine, but at the moment the vix restrained herself, awaiting some kind of reaction from the hessian.

As Legesain’s gaze turned to her, she looked back at him with an almost questioning look in her orbs. She had expected something much more imposing from the brujo – and leaving little Elessar alive for a moment longer than absolutely necessary was definitely not that. She jumped slightly as Legesain tossed his cran – she was so ready for his movements that something as slight as the throw of his dial had startled her. She shook her tiara vigorously, forcing herself to pull herself together. She followed the direction of his orbs as his soulless gaze moved off her, and noticed he was staring at the group of lights by the bushes, who were squabbling amongst themselves. She doubted very much that they were aware of the goings on around them. They probably wouldn’t even notice if Legesain ripped out her throat, so engrossed were they in their discussion. For once, the femme almost found herself agreeing with the look of contempt within Legesain’s orbs. They obviously didn’t realise the danger they were in. Even if they did, why did they choose to argue amongst themselves instead of helping to see Legesain off back to his hell? Dancer knew that the brute facing her would say they deserved to die. That she did not agree with.

The blood-stained brujo suddenly fell silent. The Princess watched him intently, wondering what the devil he was thinking. Sometimes it would be extremely useful to possess a power such as Legesain’s – the power to examine another’s every thought and desire. Almost enquiring gaze placed upon him, Dancer kept her librims shut, allowing Legesain to consider whatever he is thinking about. As he shook his crown violently, the femme could only guess at whatever he was thinking about had not pleased him. His violent cran-shake reminded of the one she had done a few minutes earlier when she was forcing herself to pull herself together. Could that, perhaps, be the reason for Legesain’s? His words floated to her in a strangely menacing way – and she turned to him, dark amber gaze set upon his frame. She noted his reference to his earlier insult about her position and responded to it by allowing a faint smile to spread across her kissers, as though she was almost amused by his words. She paid particular attention to the word ‘dear’ he had so casually thrown into his curses. Once, that word would have been fitting. Now it just sounded strange. Watching his gaze flicker back to the other group of equines for a moment before returning to her, the femme flicked her banner idly, acting as though she was utterly bored by the whole situation. Well, she actually was, but there was always the slight worry in the back of her mind as to the safety of her dear coltine, probably still sheltering in the bushes a few feet to her left. The vix resisted the urge to chance a quick glance over to the foliage, for fear of Legesain catching on to her thoughts and being reminded of the bantling. She could only hope he had the common sense to get out of there while he could.

Laughter floating on the air brought Dancer back to reality, torn from her thoughts as her gaze returned to the chuckling hellion. That sound seemed to contradict with the entire image of the brute standing before her. The femme raised a brow slightly at his actions, wondering whether he was actually amused, or whether it was all just an act to lull her into a false sense of security. As he spoke, the cold undertone plain for the Princess to hear, Dancer knew what he said was true. She really shouldn’t have said that – but the reckless streak within her had taken control of her tongue and fired an insult back at Legesain. He couldn’t really blame her – just as she couldn’t keep blaming him for deserting her. Her cran was tipped slightly in acknowledgment of his words – almost agreeing with them. She knew it was stupid to keep arguing with him – for now at least. [.x.]

Enough is enough, they were getting out of this. Ignoring Wind's desire to bicker with him, the young stallion whispers to Spirit that they should leave Dancer to this herself. As if in agreement, Spirit just turns and slinks back into the cover of the trees. Wind, realising what was going on, follows her off. Alastor gives a last glance to Dancer, an imploring one, as if to say 'call me if you need help - I'll be there'. Resisting the urge to rush to the help of the bantle, knowing for sure that the evil Dark King was aware of its presence, Alastor turns on his heels and too, leaves the area.

Status: Done
Words: 113
Starring: Alastor
OOC: Yeah, just to get rid of them =P

Trembling despite himself, the little prince fought to stay silent and still. Hearing the evil hiss that was the voice of the stranger, the blood hued equine made his spine tingle uncomfortably. Thoroughly terrified at the fact that his presence was known, the tiny coltine wished with all of his fiercely beating heart that he hadn't ever left his father's side. Acting more out of panic than anything else, the prince scrambles to his small flints, scraping for footing on the rotting leaves that carpeted the thicket, but he succeeded only in slipping. Horror grips him when he feels jaws clench the top of his nape and he doesn't even have the time to cry out before he is yanked to his feet by what he quickly realises is a gentle clasp. He is released and nudged onward, back to where he had snuck in, away from the evil stranger, away from the danger. He could not turn back to look at his rescuer, and he couldn't stop of course, but just from scent and familiar warmth, the coltine knew his savior.

Thank you Daddy... He gasps out of aching lungs, forced to run faster than he had before along the winding trail through the woods. Suddenly the forest began to thin, and the colt could see light, and at the same time the nudging stopped. From behind him, Elessar heard his sire's deep, commanding voice.

You're welcome, now get out of hear. Keep running and don't stop until you find more of our kind. They'll protect you. Calls his father, the fading tones reassuring the coltine and filling him with new strength, and telling the prince that he had turned and was heading back to his dam. Elessar did as he was told. He ran.

Status: Finito
Words: 296
Starring: Elessar
OOC: Hacer is win.

Hacer couldn't do any more for his foolish son, but he knew the coltine would do as he was told, and would find protection. Dancer would be mad with him, he was supposed to keep a careful watch on their boy, and Hacer hated himself for failing her. Moments ago he had been torn, should he take Elessar to safety himself, and risk something terrible happening to Dancer while he was away? Or should he take Elessar part way and trust him to be sensible while he ran back to help his beloved? Dancer, he knew, would have wanted him to take Elessar to complete safety, but the czar was filled with fear for his love, and had decided to turn back at the forest's edge. He hoped he was doing the right thing... he hoped dearly that Elessar would find his way, he hoped his beautiful Dancer was safe. He hoped that they would come out of this as they had gone in - as three.

The heavy set stag takes the woodland obstacles in his stride, opting for the straightest route, not caring how rough it was for it was faster. The path he had rushed his son along was well worn, and easy to travel, but far to convoluting for Hacer's situation. He would cut across its winding lengths, meeting it occasionally, and brave the dangerous, wild and dense woods that offered him a quicker way to his love that he couldn't overlook. He quickens his pace as he dives off of the trail for the umpteenth time, ducking beneath thickly entwined branches that claw at his veil and slice miniscule cuts in his upper pelt. he thought nothing of them as they did little but develop little beads of crimson. He races on, leaping fallen trunks and fording a stream in which his flints slip on the smooth rocks in his haste, his fores give way beneath him and he falls forward, suffering a bruising blow to his knees. But, refusing to be stopped, he launches out of the water lithely, and keeps running. He meets the trail again, stops for only a moment to gather his bearings and to enjoy a breath of the freer air, before pushing himself into the twisted woods. He rounds a bend around a mighty tree and is faced suddenly with a tangle of brambles of which there was no fast way around. Bracing himself for little more than a second he bounds awkwardly through, opening up his canvas with a multitude of scratches and deeper gashes that dribbled or poured crimson respectively. Pain bit at him as he made the last spring out of the thorny briars, but he ignored it, his limbs flogged with the thorny brush pushing him up a steep muddy incline. Now, back on the well worn path, he was almost at the clearing where Dancer stood, his flesh having collected thorns among other things, his entire body aching and his pelt in ruins. With a determined snort he presses on, the clearing just in his sights.

Status: Done
Words: 512
Starring: Hacer
OOC: Once again, Hacer is win.

Legesain's librims curled playfully upward to show an arrogant smirk. Finally the young princess had been silence. The secret: one foolish brat. The king tossed his head slightly to relieve the muscles in his neck. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Random mortal worries had kept him awake, mostly about his mistress. He wasn't sure he could trust her anymore, there was something wrong when he looked into her pools. So lately he had been securing his future by keeping his young son close. A most promising protege. His thoughts returned to the present, he was dealing with the light wench now. She, and her kind, was up to something. So he had journeyed here in hopes of finding her and discovering exactly what the scum was plotting. Unfortunatly, a few other brainless equines had gotten into the middle of it. If they stood in the way of what he wanted he would gladly get rid of them. However, the biggest distraction to Dancer at this moment seemed to be her son. And that was a problem.

Then the other equines suddenly turned to leave. Legesain watched them coldly as they slinked away. He couldn't help but snort in amusement. These are the equines that he was to fight. A bunch of spineless wenches. He honestly could no longer understand why some darqs were so worried. He would have to make sure that all his followers not only thought but knew they would win against these sun kissers. Weakness was no longer acceptable and Legesain had no more room for it in his lands. One bastard lingered, gazing at Dancer. Legesain snapped at the buck suddenly, warning him to get moving. Then another one was suddenly near the bantle. Legesain watched the pair coldly. He would let them go, the bantle was proving to be a distraction anyway. His gaze moved to the equine helping the young, probably the foal's father. Legesain made sure the equine's face remained in his memory, he would meet this sun kisser on the battlefield.

He allowed the group to leave and waited a few moments before turning to the princess, his glare fixed coldly on her once again. Now that they were alone he could talk freely and finally get answers. He had begun to suspect she was in some way swaying some of the members of his herd. And Legesain couldn't allow that. If that was the case someone would have to pay for this. He knew Dancer was behind anything to do with lights. Sometimes she was more active in this war than her own brother, the King. It was sad really. But good practice anyway. The lights would probably need a King after the war was over thanks to Legesain. That is, if there were even any lights left once the darks finished their fun.

"Why have you been meeting with Rebel?"

The dark prince asked coldly. Anger was lost in his words, not yet would he be angered. He would at least wait until he had gotten his answer. And as for Rebel of course he had seen her go to the beach. He knew about all of his follower's comings and goings. But what had bothered him the most is that Rebel and Dancer had met and talked and yet there were no whispers of bloodshed. That seemed a bit odd to him, given the fact that the two femmes were sworn enemies. He would not accuse Rebel of anything yet, but if he found that there were indeed a traitor in his midst all who were involved would have to pay. Of course his lord would not be too pleased with this, but it would be nessesscary. The brujo's sonar suddenly pricked. In the distance he could hear someone clumsly crashing around behind them. Legesain turned so that he would face this intruder. He had enough of this interrupting nonsense. He was ready to get his answers. Therefore, he would have to just put an end to any more intruders, starting with this one. His librims curled into a snarl as the stag's form began to appear between the trees.

Status: Done
Words: 743
Starring: Legesian
OOC: Post Blue by Placebo rocks

Coat criss crossed with crimson, Hacer bursts from the foliage, landing somewhat unsteadily on the loamy terrain. He had only caught the end of the other brute's last words, hearing clearly only 'Rebel', but the light stag was sure he knew what the question had been. With a few heavy huffs to relieve his breathlessness, Hacer slowly raised his crown to observe fully he who threatened his mate. His eyes burn as they behold a marbled, blood red coat, draped over an adolescent equine frame. The bastards hue was enough to give his identity away, and as such Hacer knew instantly who he was. Legesain, the immortal Dark King himself. Though Hacer was a brave czar, and more daring again for love, he would be lying to himself if he thought in this moment that he did not fear the stallion before him. Dancer has told him much of the cruelty he has inflicted, in both his mortal and immortal life, with and without his horrible abilities. Still, Hacer was here now, and if the brute wished to kill him, he would. With more confidence than was wise at the time, Hacer tosses his crown skyward and addresses the demon before him.

Do you not know how to mind your own business, brat? Hacer snaps with his facade rather blank. The fear mangling his insides at the moment told him his words were not wise, but Hacer spoke with as much contempt as he could muster never the less. The stallion hoped that Dancer would get herself out of harms way, he hoped desperately with all of his heart. Dancer, he knew, would think of herself as without need of his protection, but, what can you say, Hacer adores her, and knows also that the Lights will always need their Princess more than they will ever need her commoner mate.

Status: Done
Words: 310
Starring: Hacer
OOC: Oh please don't kill him... =P

The dark stallion was ready for the intruder once he emerged. As if on cue the stag snapped out at the buck as he landed upon the terrain. Not a life threatening attempt, just something to rile the sun kisser up. Legesain laughed and tossed his head, showing he was through giving the bastard attention. He was here for an answer he intended to get. His gaze remained on Dancer until the stupid buck made a foolish mistake. The words seemed to echo through the forest as if a horrible reminder of the type of words that should not have been heard, especially at this moment. The blood red stallion turned slowly to glare at the pathetic brujo that had tried to stand up to him and horribly failed. "Are you confused as to whom you are speaking to or are you just that horribly unintelligent commoner?" He snarled at the stag taking a step closer. Enemies or not there was a limit and rules on how a mere equine was to address other equines of actual position.

His gaze left the colt to look at Dancer. "Tell me the name of this sun kisser that thinks he can speak to me as if he is my equal?" Legesain snarled. He did not know the bastard's name but he knew who he was. This was the pathetic attempt that Dancer made to move on. A bumbling fool that would die just to prove his sad adoration for the wench. Legesain's proof of why the lights could not be allowed to live alongside greater and stronger equines.

Hacer did not shift his position as Legesain advanced, but he did smirk in satisfaction at the rise he managed to obtain from him. Tilting his head downwards to protect his throat, Hacer laughs bitterly towards the stag.

I know precisely who you are, and I would have addressed you with the necessary respect - if I had thought you'd deserved it. He scorns the other, still more impetuous than is prudent in such a situation. Hacer had always been smart mouthed and quick witted, and he almost couldn't help himself. And I don't speak to you as an equal, I speak as your better - last I figured, the scum that rots beneath the earth that would be your equal can't, in fact, talk. I doubt it'd waste it's time with you if it could. He continues to mock, now taking his own steps towards the bloody bronc, his dark pools livid and his frame tensed, ready for the attack he knew would be soon coming upon him.

Status: Finished
Words: 169 (it's only short...)
Starring: Hacer
OOC: Legesain's mean =P

Never before had Dancer feared for another as much as she did at that moment. The breath caught in her throat; her heart leapt almost painfully against her ribs as Legesain became more and more aware of her little Elessar. Yet it seemed he would not attack. For now at least. The princess swallowed and forced her fearful gaze back to Legesain. She could not understand why he had not killed Elessar on the spot - after all, he was an easy target. Her eyes traced his perfect coat, every part of which she knew so well. His legs, back, neck; for the tiniest moment, as the waterfall crashed behind her and the sun suddenly broke through the clouds above, it was all not true.

Legesain had never killed her father. He was young, and so was she. Innocent, that was she then. Oblivious to all things dark and evil, yet, little did she know then of course, the stallion who made her life worth living was actually the one who would destroy it all. Her dear Autumn was still a prince; her father and mother ruling almost flawlessly. What had happened? The answer came when the princess' eyes met his. They were empty of all emotion, save for evil, and anger. Hot, blazing anger. That was what had changed, and, as she stood there, in a place so reminiscent to the both of them, she knew that she needed to remind herself of that. Suddenly Legesain's voice broke through her self-imposed silence. So he knew of her and Rebel. Well, that was of little surprise, for his 'gift', so called, stripped every secret from the mind of his victim, unwilling or not. A fine power to have. Dancer turned her gaze donwards as she considered the best way to answer him. Strangely enough, although now that she was alone with him, the princess did not feel fear. Legesain had made no mention of Elessar, and for the moment, she deemed it safe to turn her attention, full and undivided, to the king.

"As I understand, the Gods do not yet deem it a crime to meet with one of another alliance. Dancer spoke slowly, simply. She would not dress up her words for Legesain, and she hoped that by her actions he would see that she meant no malice in what she had said. Judging by Legesain's words, it seemed like he wanted answers, and to tell the truth, so did she.

"But you do not mean that do you?"She asked, returning her gaze to his own soulless one yet again. "What you really mean to ask is: why do I bear no mark or blemish from this meeting?"

"What goes on between Rebel and I is buisness between us alone. If you really wish to know, I trust that you can find it out without much trouble. Her last sentence was meant in no way to be accusing; she truthfully and literally meant what she said. There was no way in which her thoughts could be hidden from the king; yet, knowing this, she still would not betray the warrioress by word. After agreeing to help her, it was wrong.

A moment later, a stallion burst through the trees. It took a moment for the princess to realise that it was Hacer. Her heart sunk as his disrespectful words seemed to spark some anger within Legesain, and hoping, with all her heart that this meeting would not come to blows, she spoke.

"Hacer, Legesain. Legesain, Hacer. Now the formalities are over..." she said, turning her gaze to Legesain. "I ask you to consider what good it would do to harm him." Dancer hoped to buy Hacer and herself some much needed time, and for now, all she could do was wait. The rest was up to Legesain.

status; Finished
words; 640
starring; Moonlight Dancer
ooc; Bascially, Dancer wants answers. She's starting to realise that she never really got over Legesain; I hope you can see the small hint of attraction in my postie?

The brute's sonars pricked and caught the bastard's words. He stepped forward once again until he was only inches away. His cran was held high and his gaze casted downwards to look at the sun kisser. He had no desire to protect himself he was immortal after all. "Well stag, your arrogance is plain for you make the first mistake of believing anyone cares for what you think. In fact, once this war is over no one will even know you existed." The dark king spat, his threatening promise was voiced in low tones. "And if it is the ones under the earth that be my equal, then you need not worry. You too shall be my equal soon enough." His librims curled upward to reveal pearls, as his jaws snapped in anticipation. Legesain's skin quivered, eager to fight and eager to kill. Legesain could hear the princess' words in the background but he paid them no mind. He was focused on the bastard he would be tearing apart only moments from now. It was lights like him that knew nothing of respect that made Legesain all the more eager to just kill them all. The darks may be bad but at least they knew when to shut their mouth. His sonar caught Dancer's final words. He turned slightly to look at her. "No gain whatsoever from killing him. But there is also no gain in letting him live. If anything it will be one less light for my kind to slaughter." Legesain snarled. His attention returned to the sun kisser. His nape shot out all of a sudden, aiming a violent bite towards the other's nape.

The ashen stallion could not help but notice his love's lack of concern. For a moment his distressed mind ponders the reason, and it takes one short look at the approaching Legesain to give him a good theory. The bloody hued stallion who was soon to be his combatant, was his Dancer's previous beloved. Or at least that's what she had told him. For the first time since they had declared their love, Hacer began to doubt Dancer's word and the faithfulness of her heart. When he thinks about it further, on her behaviours, how she looked at and spoke towards him, his theory began to make more sense. Hacer had been so lovestruck that he hadn't seen the deception, the unrequited love, that was right before his eyes. But now he saw clearly, saw everything for what it must be, saw it all for how it was. With sadness in his pale aqua pools he turns to gaze at his beloved, his feelings of hurt and betrayal etched deeply on his handsome visage. He looks into her pools for a moment, searching for guilt, untruth or regret, but he has not the time to search deeply before his gaze is beckoned back to Legesain by the sound of approaching hoof falls, a loud crunching of fine gravel.

Hacer turns back to see the bloodied bastard stop, so close to him that the czar could feel the demon's hot breath. There he stood for Dancer, so close to death because she is so close to his heart, and she did not care. He needed to take the chance to speak his mind to her, now, in case he never had the chance again. So carefully he cocks his cran to look over his shoulder, his pale pools on her dark ones again.

"See what hold you have on my heart, dear Dancer? But I'm just a decieved commoner, aren't I? A poor sap who you'll see die with indifference, and yet I'll fight for you anyway... I love you..." He whicker's to her in hurried tones, all bitter but for the last several words. He had loved her, fathered her bantle and he didn't even have her complete love in return. So he went on and uttered those which may be his last words to her, "Whose side are you on Princess? Who would you rather see fall?" He nickers softly, his song mellow and morose, before he reluctantly breaks gaze with her to give his attention to the threat that was Legesain once again. He imagined that if he ever lived to hear her answer to that question, he would probably have not wanted to know.

For a stallion who was so romantic, who held the very concept of love so dearly as a way of life, this situation was beyond anything he could bare with an ounce of calm. Hacer could feel his anger rising, a heated prickling feeling spreading across his pelt as his blood begins to boil. Suddnely he could not stand Legesain's proximity and so he half rears to swerve around him, to begin his assault and spill the toxic lines of his foe. For now this was not just a battle of Light and Dark, it was, for the sweet hearted stag, so much more. It was now for him, a battle for a Princess, for a completely faithful heart, and nothing could inspire Hacer more than that.

It is in this moment, with his fores still in the air and his head twisted to pass over his enemies that Hacer just catches the sight of Legesain's crown flying at him. With a shocking jolt of pain, wresting a scream from Hacer's lungs, the jaws of Legesain clamp the soft hide beneath the curve of his cheek - only just missing his throat. Hacer for a moment thinks himself lucky, for a clamp on his jugular and the inevitable severing of it would have been fatal, but he realises that he is still in danger. He quickly drops his fores to the ground again, feeling his flesh tear a bit in the demon's grip as he moved, but he knew that if he just stood there Legesain would adjust his bite and rip out his throat. So without hesitation Hacer swiftly drops his crown and twists his nape towards his blade to break the bastard's tight grip, his librims loosing another curse as Hacer feels his canvas open. Hacer knew not how bad the wound was, for he could not see it, but he could feel his crimson soul quickly seeping a warm trail down his nape and chest. As swiftly as he had dropped it, Hacer flicks his cran upwards again, aiming to bash the fragile underside and jaw of an unexpecting Legesain's crown. He steadies his long, muscular limbs beneath him and takes hasty steps backwards to a safer distance. Now steadied and standing ready for the immortal's no doubt fierce onslaught, Hacer's frame tingled with pain, with fear and with a manic sort of excitement. His nares are filled with each breath with the metallic scent of his own spilling blood, that now dripped from his chest on to the coarse ground, the sweat of the tensed broncs and the sweeter aromas of their surrounds. Legesain had suprised Hacer with his last attack, Hacer had not been prepared, and Legesain was a fool if he thought the proud stallion would allow him such an easy blow again.

Status: Done
Words: 914
Starring: Hacer Segrado
OOC: I forbid you to take his soul Aalaya! Vito on soul taking! That'd be no fun and you know it =P I'm having too much fun RPing Hacer, who I never really liked until now, and at least he can be a rare challenge for Legesain *grin*