Want to mess with a Goddess? {open}

[Diru {college life}]

A silvery vixen moved along at an easy walk, finely carved dial held high with pride. A pride that was right deserved. Pride for her position, for her strength, for her beauty, for her intelligence, for her. She was the epitome of an arabian, or at least she looked like it, until one saw the scars crossing over her entire frame. But she thought her scars beautiful, they were earned in fights, from worthy horses even though they had been beaten by the ashen mare.
Her limbs slowed from her walk. She had grown rather lonely in Rakella, her lands. Oh yes, she was a Lady, no homeless mare is this one. And right now she was seeking the company of another before she sought out more herd members. Or perhaps, come spring she would simply wander to the caves and create her own company.
The ashen minx stood calmly, orbs bright and flicking around the lands. She snorted, and one stilt flashed outwards, gouging a hole in the ground before she reared to her full-height. Her maw opened, ivories glinted dully as she called out. Wether her company should be male or female she cared little, though if she enjoyed ones company she hoped that the other would have no herd attachments. She wanted to stay in the shadows of the herd politics for now, before she made her bid for true power compared to her meager lands.

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

TOMBSTONE'S REVENGE

A beastly stallion made his way through the forest, his massive hooves picking their way over the soiled land with a liquid grace one wouldn’t expect to find in him. Feathers swarmed his black legs, black limbs that faded to white at their midpoint. Muscles rippled smoothly under that odd hide, while a black overo splash crawled across the nape of his neck, dripping eerily down his shoulder blades and fading into oblivion. The master’s neck was arched proudly, a Friesian skull held parallel to his white chest. In the center of that skull was a star, blackened by death that dripped into a small snip, while widening and twisting to cover one nostril… and in the center of that star was a hoof-print shaped scar, the reminder of his past, of his sister now long dead. Gnarled locks emerged from the stallion’s crest and tail, wavy and extending long past the natural length, while dark blue eyes peered out beneath his forelock. Those eyes, the eyes of his mother, held no emotion nor thought. They didn’t reflect the surrounding lands as they should be, but rather, how they’d look if everything were suddenly dead… for that was the way he saw the world. Lifeless, desolate, and decaying.

The Friesian crossbreed continued on his way, pondering thoughts others would be mortified to know existed. His mind was toying with the possibility that all life had left the lands, that his eyes were actually reflecting the truth and that he was the only remaining life form to tread the soil, when a scent wafted in with the breeze and tickled his senses. His ears swiveled, vainly searching for the sounds that would accompany, while his skull raised and dark blue eyes surveyed silently. His nostrils flared, further taking in the scent… the scent of a mare. A sadistic smirk crossed the mutt’s muzzle, his limbs lifting high in his breed’s natural inherited high-knee action gait as he followed his senses to the being. Emerging like fog, silently and slowly, he came to the grove in which she stood. A quizzical, almost taunting expression flashed across his features as he stood, half concealed by the shadows; watching and waiting. To be alone in such a place, especially to be alone and be a mare. My, haven‘t we got guts. His masculine vocals rang out, dripping with venom and sadistic intent. Already, his mind was beginning to weave concoctions that always ended in the lady’s worst interest. A slave, a murder… the possibility never crossed his mind that others may be acquaintances, as none had ever dared to try and earn his trust. Perhaps this would be different, or perhaps just another enemy in the making?

[Diru {college life}]

She had noted the approach of another equine thouugh it did not bother her. Had she not just called out for another to seek her out after all? She snorted softly as her dial swung atop her nicely arched boa to seek out who sought her out.
She noted that it seemed to be a white stallion with black markings. Odd, but no odder than her own beautiful silver coat with the ebony tresses. His words bothered her little. He did not know who she was so therefore he was an ignorant moron. She would educate him though.
She laughed, the sound almost like a silver bell shortly after he finished speaking. She sidled sideways, some of her scars pulling at her frame awkwardly though it never seemed to bother her. "I have no fear of any creature living in this world. I am Cathubodva, the Warrior Goddess and Lady of Rekella, why do I need to fear anyone?" She said, her tone at first one of pride but at the last segment her tone dropped and she tilted her side to the side so that her mane and forelock spilled down like a black waterfall.
Oh she knew she was a pretty mare, she never used her looks either to get anything, though if she did it was a good possibility that nothing would stand in her way. Instead though she got what she wanted through words, and if that didn't work, well, she fought and she won.
She chuckled again, wondering how old this colt was to be challenging her like he had. Well, techincally he hadn't but she found it as a challenge to her gender. It was like he was saying that mares are good for nothing. "I have given you my name so be a good boy and give me yours." She said calmly, righting her dial and she stood calmly. "Speak quickly lest I am forced to beat it out of you." She added a few moments later, one stilt pawing the ground and gouging a small hole into the dirt.
No mere mare was the silver arabian that the ivory brute wandered across. She knew exactly where her limits where, the sky, and nothing would get in her way once she set her mind to something, that's just how she was. [/size]

[».d.r.e.a.m. [ღ]]

TOMBSTONE'S REVENGE

His weight shifted between draft-like limbs, dark blue eyes gazing at the mare, studying her, and taking in her presence. She seemed so full of herself, so cocky and confident, that he couldn’t help the sadistic smirk that slid across his muzzle. His ears flicked forth then back, catching her words absent mindedly. You don‘t need to fear anyone per say, for fearing another being is rather foolish. It‘s what they‘re capable of that you should fear… or, rather, your emotions and what you imagine they could do… He mused aloud, his mind toying with the idea and testing it to see how it held. His dark blue eyes slid shut, images flashing through the lids. In front of the dark red skin that appeared black to his eyes was the image of the mare, of blood, of laughter and torment. His element. A shame, he hadn’t tasted that metallic fluid in so long, nor watched as life faded from the eyes of a victim. His own eyes flashed open once more, as if shocked to realize she was still here, standing in front of him, whilst he was under her judgment and she his scrutiny. A Goddess and a Lady? Isn‘t your plate full…

The titan’s sultry gaze remained fixed on the dove, watching her fragile build; or rather, a build that appeared fragile, yet he knew otherwise of the Arabs. Tombstone‘s Revenge. He didn’t offer any titles, his position, or his land. Pushy. The stag added, his smirk fading from his facial features. His mind was still pondering over titles, their pettiness and the way others seemed to worship them. Certainly this mare expected him to be awed by a goddess and lady, to be dying to serve her and bow down. Her shock and dismay would be amusing, if she was that type. If only he could read thoughts to listen to what she thought of the disrespectful beast… Well, Cath - and yes, I‘m going to call you Cath - I don’t see anything in a title, except one who has a home and commands others. Yet those who command others, at least in most societies, don‘t deserve that position. They‘re… unfit, and eventually lead their Alliance to destruction. Hence why we have such weak kings and queens, whom no one respects and all secretly want to destroy because they think they can do better. But, I suppose you‘re one who thinks everything‘s with the title, so I won‘t further shatter your beliefs.

[Diru {college life}]

Did this stallion really think she was that idiotic? Of course he did, he was probably the type of stallion that thought mares existed to provide foals for the likes of him. Humph. She would not degrade herself like that.
Her chocolate orbs rolled when he shortened her name. "And exactly like every being that has known me you shorten it in the same way. Creativity must be dropping in the gene pools around here." The ashen vixen spoke, tone almost mocking and yet at the same time, deadly serious.
"The title of Goddess is one that others gave me for I have never lost a fight." She said watching him. No, she did not boast of titles she fashioned for herself, merely ones that she'd earned. Nobody had challenged her for Rakella either so that meant, to her, that nobody was brave enough to face the mare.
"Doesn't help either I suppose that my dam named me after a warrior goddess." She mused, almost laughing. A name had meant everything to her dam and that herd, they'd doomed themselves when she had been named Cathubodva. Good thing she left before she did get upset with the herd too much.
Would he think that she was arrogant? She didn't care if he thought she was a wh*re. He didn't matter in her books, and so far he was dwindling downward in that matter. Perhaps a footnote indicating that he had spent some time in her presence? That seemed about right. She would probably forget him rather quickly unless he managed to make an impression on her, a favorable impression really.[/size]