Splitting Threads of Thunder - Seamus & Darcy

[Darcy B. Mueller]

The brisk sun overhead was masked by clouds. In contrast, the air around Darcy and Asper was clear and sharp. In the chilled air, their breath fogs up the clear scene around them. They are alone, on the rough, treacherous Southern Beach. It comes as no surprise. As close to the Scorpio Race as the time had begun to dawdle, all of the attention lay on the Northern Beach, where riders trained their capall's restlessly. But Darcy had decided to sneak off today, to allow herself to have a bit of fun.

And thus, she stands with her back to the sea, the ocean's waves licking up around her shoes, soaking them. She does not care one bit. Facing Asper, a curling smile toys at the edges of her pink, chapped lips. "Come and get me." She coos, just before dipping down to cup the salty water in her hand, and then toss it into the air at Asper. The ocean hits his skin, but instead of dripping like it would on anybody or anything else, it is absorbed into the dapples of his coat, as if his body craves the sea so desperately that it must suck up any part of it that it can manage. The magic of the moment radiates into the wind, pulsating gently, as Asper reacts with nothing more than a dignified snort and a few calculating flicks of his disconcerting ears. Asper whines shrilly, and kicks his front legs up in a half rears, and she is certain she can see the way in which is he careful to direct his hooves in a direction away from her.

From there, Darcy takes off, her long legs sprawling under her body with long, long strides as she runs. She is no match for Asper, obviously, but he merely keeps pace with her at her side, snorting and digging his massive hooves into the ground, jovial in his mannerisms.

She is 'crazy', she is 'insane'. She has a death wish, unmatched and unspoken.

But there are no eyes here, and for that, she is grateful. Nobody can judge her. For the moment, at least.

The wind is strong today, and for because, for once, she has worn her long hair down, it's waves are tugged in all different directions about her, like a hazy halo of sorts. Darcy's running is cut short, as she suddenly turns on her heels, and then, changes direction. Asper stops short of a stride, and wheels himself in a half circle. craning his head to stare at her as she moves, confused momentarily. "That's right big guy, you better keep up." A grin still plays over her childish face as she looks back at him.

They call the water horses evil, but Darcy just cannot bring herself to see how, because here is Asper, who, in moments like these, when they are alone, seems a lot like nothing more than a misunderstood puppy. She can still sense the predator that lies within him, but he does not bare his teeth even once towards her, nor scream fitfully.

Instead, his noises become almost like those of the island horses, whickers and soft neighs. She dares anybody to speak ill of Asper, because when they might do so, these are the moments she pictures. In a world where capall's cannot be understood, she feels a lot like it is the humans that are evil, and not the capall's at all. But maybe that is why they call her crazy.

[Séamus O'Hare]

Séamus led Zakhar down the thin, overgrown paths that paved the way gradually down to the Southern beach. It was treacherous and not fit for training with its pebbles and outcroppings of razor-sharp beach grass. There was no room on the Northern beach today and Séamus ha decided it would be best to leave before a fight started, beause he knew his stallion wouldn't have hesitated to join in.

Séamus had decide that the quietest place to go and relax would be the Southern beach. No one will be there, he thought, why would they be? It would be the perfect place for him to test out his theory: If he were to allow Zakhar time in the sea that he knew, as a Cappal Uisce, he so craved, that Zakhar would be more willing to behave for him. It was a sort of gift and reward scenario: half an hour in the surf -still on a lead rein of course, just in case Zakhar decided to make a break for it-, in return for a considerable amount of co-operation. Séamus thought it was a fair deal, he hoped that his stallion would think so too. He also had some raw meat wrapped in grease paper in his pocket as an extra bribe and he knew that Zakhar could smell it because of the occasional advances he made towards his pocket.

As they arrived on the beach Zakhar noticed that they had company before Séamus. The pale dappled stallion made a territorial squeal next to Séamus' ear that was so loud that his ears rang for moments afterwards.

(Sorry for that terrible post! I'm having a bit of writer's block)

[Darcy B. Mueller]

Before the pair of strangers even make themselves known to Darcy, she is immediately aware of the change. Everything about the atmosphere shifts. There is no longer comfort between the two, and instead, Asper has become fully predator all over again. She is only lucky that the lead rope she led him down to the beach with lies nearby. Without thinking, she bends to retrieve it, and latches it to his leather halter. She does not know what yet, but something is wrong.

Suddenly he is not at all the same. His attention falls away from her, his ears pricking forward sharply. He throws his head backs and screams out-rightly, shrill and sharp and daunting. He goes to bare his teeth and snap at the air but Darcy has already snatched hold of his halter with one hand, the other still grasping the re-attached lead rope. With all of her weight against his head, she manages to drag him down to her level.

“Asper, what is it? There’s noth-“And just then, from not too far off, she can hear the equally dominance demanding sound, obviously from another Capall. Her attention and her eyes dart in the direction of it. Around her, the wind picks up slightly, harsher now, and she is thankful, because she is sure that it does at least a little in way of diluting the two scents of the Capall’s between their distance.

Asper dances under Darcy’s hand, rough and savage. It has been a long time since he has been faced so closely to another Capall, she realizes. His hind-end worms about behind her, and his huge hooves drag circles in the gritty sand, tossing it up around them. “Shh, shh..” She tries, her voice a coo, but knows it is no good. He is too far gone, eaten up by his sudden temper and the lull of the sea as it grows in his ears. It is as if though a serene trance has been broken. Their time together had been ruined, and now, she is faced with several dire decisions.

From there, she begins to work quickly. The only thing she knows to do is to diffuse the situation. It is nothing but a chance when Darcy lets go of the hold she has on Asper's halter, holding onto only his lead rope. She moves around his front, and then to his other side, so that she can begin tying the lead rope onto his halter as makeshift reins. And then, all at once, keeping hold of the newly formed reins, she grabs for a handful of Asper’s mane, nearing his withers, and using all of her strength, she bends her knees and then jumps from the ground, clambering atop Asper’s back with a good deal of struggling from the way he squirms and twists. Her leg is nearly caught by one of his hind legs as he trashes, but she manages escape, and fulfills her goal. When she sits in the center of his bare back, she digs her heels into his sides, demanding attention, and grasping desperately as his mane, begins to egg his direction into that of circles.

He listens, but only so, and still, with each movement, his front hooves threaten to leave the ground and perhaps she feels just a smidgen too much tension in his sides to trust that he is not either calculating his escape into the ocean or his charge forward at the Capall that has decided to threaten him.

( Your post is not awful by any means, but even still, I can understand writers block. Hope you find a way through it. :c )

[Séamus O'Hare]

As he came down onto the beach, Séamus noticed the aggressive, territorial behaviour both of the Capall Uisce were displaying and it was obvious that the water horse that Zakhar had chosen to pick a fight with was also a stallion, and a much larger one at that. If there was a fight here everyone on the beach, albeit only Séamus, Zakhar and the Girl and her stallion would be in danger.

Zakhar was a stubborn beast, but when it came to squaring up to other water horses, his bark was bigger than his bite. He didn't stand a chance against the other stallion, Séamus gave Zakhar a small hiss, telling him something along the lines of 'Don't even try it.', to which Zakhar payed no mind to. The stallion still insisted on causing trouble, he keened, high-pitched and wailing, dragging his front hooves up into a half-rear.
Séamus looked at the girl and her horse, even though the other stallion was having a reaction to Zakhar's taunting, she managed to keep him more or less under control, it was admiring, and slightly foolish, he thought, to be so close and trusting of a creature that was showing such signs of agression.

Séamus pulled on the lead rein and yanked Zakhar back down onto all fours. He tugged the stallion's head down and pressed his chapped lips to his long, elaphine ears. He told Zakhar again, 'not to try it', but this time more threateningly. Zakhar still wasn't listening to him, so he took his iron cross from his jacket pocket and pressed it firmly against the stallion's skin, enough to cause indentations in the flesh. "You're embarrassing me again, Zakhar."

Once Zakhar had calmed himself, Séamus addressed the girl "I'm sorry about the trouble we've caused. Forgive me, I wasn't expecting company on this beach. You handle your stallion well." he said, attempting to make polite conversation, hoping that the young woman wouldn't bee to annoyed with him.

(I'm so sorry the reply took so long.)