wicked men tell wicked lies

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

A soft breath left him in frustration at her words, but he said nothing. He could not please her. It was as if she tried to react in the most unexpected way every time he made a move. Addy felt dumb that had not simply come to expect this by now. She was not going to change. He was okay with that. He was okay with his eternal ability to forgive, even when it hurt him.

“Mmm,” was the only reply that came for a long while, her body brushing against his. Often, he wondered if he was mistaking her closeness for mild affection. Would she come so close if she was as deterred by him as she acted? Maybe if she was trying to use him… get something from him. That did not make sense either, however, as Aderalle had nothing to his name but this land - and she had land of her own previously. Really, she was moving down in rank and power by accepting his company. It seemed silly, but he would not try to convince her otherwise. She was his favorite here.

Her head met his back, then left it. She wandered off. His head lowered to graze, as well. It seemed to be his only responsibility here! To get fat. Well, besides quelling tantrums and being kingly. He chewed the blades slowly, not entirely interested in the repetitiveness of the task. A step moved him forward, black strands of tail battered his hindquarters. A snort, ears flickered back. The ripping of grass and the grinding of teeth seemed the only sound about them.

The strands of her tail struck him, his gaze shifted up, head raised half-erect on his low slung neck. He wandered a bit away in the small space, then turned back toward her, nibbling momentarily at the top of her shoulder as he came up beside. Black muzzle rubbed against her neck for a moment, mussing the mane that lay there gently, before it returned to its previously assigned task of annihilating the tender shoots of spring. It seemed safer when they did not speak. Someone always got fussy when too many words got in the mix.

end.

[WaT]

Her skin twitched slightly at his unexpected touches. What did this mean? To allow him to procreate? No, it seemed just something of endearment or just a touch. No need to jump the gun just yet. Still she stepped forward pulling the grass and chewing them thoughtfully. The girl wanted to say something but nothing came to mind. Her gaze occasionally met with his body until finally she turned around, swallowed her cud and brushed herself against him in return. She stayed close to him occasionally slapping her tail against his shoulder.

What was she doing? Well it was spring that sometimes got to her. Taking a few steps forward Salma continued pulling a few stems here and there. For now she was full and content. "so....have you thought about.....um....foals?" she said quietly. She felt weird asking any other stallion might be all over the subject but then he was younger and perhaps new to this.

Turning around she nibbled at his withers before resting her head against his shoulder. "I mean there is no rush...just....it's spring" She said softly. Gently she rubbed her chin against his withers resting it there. She wasn't really sure how else to put it other than try hinting more. There was no real rush though, it had just turned spring so she could wait. It was all she seemed to do. There wasn't much to do other than walk forward a few steps and continue picking at the grass.

^{ooc; i seem to be museless for salma >.<}

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

It seemed important to him to establish some sort of bond. Only if she cared for him and felt cared for would it be feasible for him to expect trust or respect. Somehow announcing himself the big bad dictator pony seemed unreasonable and, quite frankly, laughable. Aderalle was gaining health, true, but he was neither big nor bad… and was honestly only little more than a pony in stature. He thought that his best chances would lie in a slow, non-forceful operation with little demanded of her. She would not meet his demands, anyway. She had too much fight. The green beast was at peace with that fact. He continued to graze without worry.

Eventually he did stop eating when she began to move about, his head lifting to watch her until he was reassured by her proximity that she was not running off yet again. The locks of her tail struck him. A snort was managed, softly, thoughtfully. Again, the thick neck upon his shoulders lowered halfway in rest, muscles writhing in the motion under his slick green pelt, the weight of his body shifted to press into her side when a black, cloven hoof was pointed in relief of soreness. Lazy days were a source of great joy to him, the calmness of this darkened place spawning many.

She moved and he regained his erect posture, lowering his head to nibble at an itch that pestered his foreleg. He did not expect her words, but did not react with strangeness or shock. In a simple manner, posture was regained and his skull was turned about to look at her, his thick forelock blocking the vision of one of the large brown eyes that set there. Foals. He sucked on his tongue a moment in thought, his tail swatted at flies about his hocks. It was his job, after all… he should have thought of this. Somehow he was a bit behind the ball, still trying to figure out a pecking order for his little band, how to feed them, how to protect them. A small, helpless life was a scary thing to him - especially one that was of his own blood. Had he not proven he was lazy? Useless? Perhaps not.

Feeling as though he was taking suspiciously long thinking about her request, he felt as though something had better be said quick. “I suppose I have,” he started slowly, “on occasion.” What the heck. He felt strangely about all of this. Of course it was what he wanted to do! It was what he was made to do! He could not quite figure out what it was he really feared. Was it the idea or the reality?

She turned, her body met his once again in an intriguing way. He tried not to react physically; to move in, to allow his body to ask her for more. He simply turned his head to watch her, breathing with some sense of urgency. The brute felt confused. “I… Whatever you want,” the words came faster and with more zeal than he had expected them to. Her contact remained for a few moments, and those few moments felt drawn out. Only when she left him could he relax. His nerves were barely intact.

For a moment, Addy watched her graze. He wished silently to himself that he understood why he was so unnerved. Somehow, comfort also dwelled within him. It was insane. His chiseled skull pressed against her side for a moment, then dropped in order to graze, even though he had no interest any longer in the grass about his feet. He just… needed something besides her to stare at.

end.

[WaT]

"Alright then" she said softly. She wasn't going to push him into breeding. He wasn't a stud and she wasn't a broodmare. Picking her head up she looked around once again and slapped her tail up and down. Salma looked back at him and nudged Aderalle's side in return. What was that all about anyway? Her body walked off a few paces and laid down.

Laying on her side she felt bloated from eating and for a few moments just laid there lifeless. Her barrel wasn't horrible puffed up or even slightly. She just felt full and didn't want to eat anymore. Damn this spring air! It clouded her mind with thoughts of family and love. Salma could indeed love but found it useless now. Everyone would eventually die leaving her alone once again. True she was starting to care for this stallion but it wasn't love. He wasn't exactly the most loveable type either.

Standing up she got back on her feet. Slapping her hocks and flanks she tried chewing another mouthful of food but found it hard to swallow it. Licking her lips she looked over to the male but then looked over at something else. Walking over to a tree she rubbed her side against it. It always felt good to be scratched. It was just the two of them though. Would there be others ever? Did he expect to create his own herd with just her? She hoped not. It was unlikely and be a strain on her body having countless foals right in a row.

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

Aderalle was unsure of all of this, but that was likely a very normal thing. He imagined that this was so, anyway. Every lucky stallion had to deal with the trial and error of courtship eventually. His main fear was truly that he would inadvertently insult her and lose her as well as his chances. There was only one other mare around and she was, to be horribly blunt, quite shrill and unpleasant. Addy would only try his luck with her if there were a dire need and no other options. He was half sure that Salma would be polite enough to not call him names and tell him she hated him during the act. There was no telling when it came to Brise.

She nudged him. “Okay,” he sounded a little defeated, but would not even admit that to himself. There was no point in letting himself admit failure before it had occurred. Eyes were trained on her as she wandered off a bit and then lowered to the ground. He resumed grazing in the most uninterested way, still watching her on occasion as she lay defeated by her appetite.

When she rose again, his watchful eyes were given a new duty. It was vague and unneeded, but perhaps less unneeded than staring endlessly at her in hope. He felt a little angry at himself for being so weak and so easily deterred. It was an odd trait, coming from the family that he did. Aderalle had a brother, three years older than he, who was next in line for lead. Having been ostracized from the group as per custom, he would come back in time to take over seamlessly when the old stallion passed, bringing the mares he was expected to accumulate with him. Or, everyone thought that was what would happen. Aderalle always imagined his haughty, ruthless sibling to have gotten himself killed in a fight… or at least forgotten about them, thinking himself too great for their humble herd. Either way, it did not matter. They would likely never meet again.

She scratched herself on a tree and he, still lost in thoughts on family, wandered a few steps into the trees around them. There was something he missed about being one in a herd of many. In such a vast community there was always company, someone to pick up the slack, someone to annoy. It was pleasant. A yearning started to form within his chest, aching quite intensely. He tried to ignore the feeling.

Turning, he came back to her, standing a yard off. He was unsure of words, but anxious. It was frustrating to be asked such questions and then be made to wait. He would say nothing.
end.

[WaT]

Sighing she tried to think how this all went. It had been so long she didn't even know how really this courting went on. Coughing she tossed her head trying to think of another way. She roughly knew when her cycle was. It was almost like clockwork. Most mares were able to tell yes? "well whenever you're ready let me know.." she trailed off and pushed off from the tree she had started to lean on.

Flicking her tail she tried thinking of other way this went. The humans did it their own way but she couldn't remember how that went either. The only thing she could remember that most of it was unnatural. The girl had been a broodmare after all, she knew how it went. Was it ever really about love? No, usually to just have babies.

Walking over to the brute she nudged his side and then stood next to him. Her head facing away from his. Flicking her tail it slapped at him a few times. She bumped into him a bit with her head lowered. It seemed he didn't know either about the process. Sighing she walked off a few steps. Her head lowered to the ground but she didn't pull anything. Just resting there. Licking her lips she stood there for a few minutes before lifting her head up. "soo....." she softly said looking back at him.

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

Aderalle only knew what his body told him. Luckily, that instinct was enough to get him through the act in its most basic form. He was not much for flair, anyway… and he was not sure that Salma would be patient enough to let him try if he had wanted to. The green-tinged black strands of his tail shooed a few bugs from his sides, the whip-like tendrils making a soft noise in the stillness as they battered his hide. He was glad to be out of the cold of winter, with his health intact as a bonus, but dreaded the heat that would soon come, carrying with it a wave of various pests. Mosquitoes were his least favorite as they swarmed about him in the summer as he tried to quench his thirst. Flies came second simply for their sheer numbers. He pushed the thoughts from his head. There were more enticing things to ponder at the moment.

“Alright, Salma,” he answered, taking a step forward as she moved her own body. When he was ready? His body was always ready. He knew that, but tried to downplay the reality of it. It would not likely go over well if she got it into her head that he was going to be pushy. Really, she should have been comfortable with that idea. In the end, mares were mares and stallions were stallions. They had their jobs, and they were to complete them no matter how ruthless they were. Even so, she had the choice to deny him and he was not going to do anything that might upset her. There was a reason so much grooming and coaxing came before the act. It was not because the stallion felt she was wonderful or that he loved her, but because he had to win her over via flattery to get himself a chance at mounting. He had to get her in a state of woo in order to subdue her. In the beginning he had thought Salma would take a lot of nudging, but she seemed to be coming around before he had even prepared himself.

He moved to meet her as she came to his side, nudging her shoulder with his muzzle as they passed. The flicking of her tail was somehow exciting, even though he had no idea why his body found it as so. Perhaps it was just the association of her tail with other body parts. His neck craned the chiseled head about, muzzle meeting the top of her hip, licking and nuzzling the area a bit before she walked off. He felt strangely about her retreat, but got over the feeling quickly when she did not act in an adverse manner toward him.

“So,” he teased softly in return, trying to downplay their awkwardness and turning his body about to come up beside her, his muzzle meeting her withers. There was no denying the feeling of strangeness in the air about them, but he tried not to add to it. He groomed her lightly along her back and withers, snorting softly on occasion in vague conversation. He did not know why he did this, but it came naturally. A step forward, working her neck over, and another few steps brought his head comfortably beside her own.

Words felt as though they should come, but there was nothing to say. He was not sure you were meant to be thusly attached during such things. Aderally nibbled at her jaw line, hot breath escaping him in proof of his excitement. This all made him feel reckless and child-like. Somehow, it was not unpleasant. Moving again, his muzzle met hers before her continued around to her opposing side and giving it a very similar treatment to that which came prior. Half for her and half for himself, it would be a lie to say he did not feel something grand from this interaction.

Coming again to the back side of her, he stopped, muzzle meeting the flesh of her rump to lick and nubble at her pelt and the base of her tail, hoping to get a desirable reaction from her. He would be quite flustered if she turned him down now.

end.

[WaT]

The mare wasn't sure what he was doing but she liked it. Salma could only guess this was how it went naturally. Not having humans hold them and lead the male on him. Sighing she stood still and waited. There wasn't much else she could do. Moving would prove to be a rejection of some sort.

Her tail flicked and she picked up a hind leg and set it down. Her knees locked or at least stiffened. Lowering her head she snorted in impatience of this. Couldn't he just get on when he felt like it? Then he might just do that when she least expected it. So she was grateful for him wanting to do it the traditional way.

The only noise that came from her was a few nickers and a soft grunt. The mare was ready or as ready as she thought she could be. It had been a long while and so she stayed still. The mare wasn't sure why she was doing though, babies never seemed to survive with her. Then...it could have been the tests the humans ran on her while pregnant.

Staying still was rather hard though. Occasionally she would flick her tail to the said. Finally she just lifted it up and relieved herself in front of him. She couldn't help it. The girl had been holding the liquid in for a few hours now. Sighing she flicked her tail a few times before letting it drop. There wasn't much she could say. Sorry? Perhaps but chose not to utter a word. She had to relieve herself either way.

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

He was not the greatest advocator of this silly preening, finding it to be rather tedious and slow. At the same time, it did serve a purpose. Arousal was really a necessity in both genders for the greatest chance of conception, the contractions of a female’s orgasm aiding in the travel of sperm. Still, he grew impatient with it, no matter how much it excited him. The smell of her, compounded by the hormones released in her urine, was something that caused him to feel a great amount of anticipation.

Growing antsy on his feet, body at the ready, he nibbled a bit more at her flesh. Through his licking and nuzzling he hoped to convince her to offer herself up, move her tail for him, but she did not seem like she was really wanting to. Aderalle wondered for a moment if she was just trying to win his favor for one reason or another. Did it really matter? This was his calling. Then again, when mounted, he would be at his most vulnerable. She could kick his legs from under him, possibly killing him. Swarmed by compromising urges, he did not care.

Deciding he could not wait, the feeling in him overwhelming, his muzzle pushed her tail aside in hopes that she would take the hint and hold it there. Another nip, and he pulled his chest close to her hind end, and then over in in the least comical way he could manage. It was an awkward feeling to make such a motion, but he was pleased with the physical and psychological sensations obtained through the act.

Penetration. He grappled for grip and balance, but was a bit lost in the almost involuntary reaction his body had. A few grunts left him, seemingly in beat with the motion, and subsided when his body gave in. His breath remained heavy, more in excitement than exhaustion, and he pulled away.

What was he to say to her now? It was a bit strange.

end.

[WaT]

She felt him moving around back there and finally held her tail out of the way when he pushed it. Her head pulled up quickly, feeling him get on and a loud snort left her. The reaction retreated and the girl stood there taking it. Maybe if it was her first time or he took less time preparing, the girl would struggle and try pulling out from under him. This was never thought of though. It was the only way to continue their species. There was no doubt she didn't enjoy it but was less vocal than the male. It was all over as soon as it started it seemed and the mare sighed and shook herself. Tail flicked itself up a few times only to fall back down.

Legs moved in motion again but instead of moving away she turned around and nuzzled his muzzle. There wasn't much she could say. Good job? Good going? I love you? No those were all wrong for the moment. Thank you? That made her seem easy and like she had planned this. When she had not. Technically he wasn't fit to carry on his genes in the brute's current state; but Salma knew he was healing. Nudging his withers Salma rested her head on them. Of course now she wondered of her rank and where she stood with him. Obviously well or somewhere near the top? Perhaps. She didn't really care if she was top mare.

A hind hoof came up and rested lazily on its point. Nibbling she licked at his dirty pelt a few times before resting again. The girl felt like something should be said but she wasn't sure what. Minutes seemed to tick away and she just stood there. Eventually her rested hoof met the ground again and the mare began dozing off.

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

It was true that he was more than grateful when she took the approach with grace and forgiveness. He felt awkward about the whole thing, truthfully, but it was such dire instinct that there was little he could do to fix it. No matter how much you cursed when you stumbled, it would always have to happen again. The mounting of a mare he only just knew was awkward socially, but not instinctually, and he knew he would likely commit the act a few more times in his life. Or, he hoped he would. Once he was back to his finest, he would certainly have better luck. Addy knew he was closer than he had been in a long time. There was no longer a nagging sense of tiredness or weakness in his muscles, he did not cough or struggle to pull himself to a gallop. When a few more pounds had been put on to cover the last of his exposed ribs and hipbones, he would be near perfect again. It would take a while for the shine of his coat to return, but time was in abundance.

Still in the hype of the action, his body was rather antsy even though he knew he had nothing left to anticipate. If the breeding took, he knew it would be at least another year before he had another chance… and even that was kind of pressured. The last thing she needed was to have her body so abused, and he knew that well, even though his instincts were tempted to try. She turned about and his muzzle returned her affectionate touch, eyes half lidded and ears relaxed back. Aderalle felt much more humble about the whole situation than he thought he would.

Continuing her move, he also adjusted his position. Her muzzle met his withers, rested there. His own moved over her barrel a bit, grooming lightly in a way that was more affection than function. She was indeed his chosen favorite, but that was not saying much beings as there was only one other mare. True, though, she did have a few grand advantages over Brise: she was less bitter and at least somewhat willing to accept affection and instruction, she obviously took his advances in a gracious way and had managed to stick around for a bit. His head rested lightly on top of her hip.

It was true that there was nothing to say. There seemed to be no more efficient act at halting conversation than intercourse. This could be good or bad, but he was not at all worried about it. Something would come up eventually… or not. He was slightly amused by the thought of them standing in silence until a baby was born. She began to doze and he recognized it, deciding quickly not to bother her. His body only leaned into her slightly and his eyes closed. He did not sleep, but rested lightly. It was not as though he was tired.

end.

[WaT]

^{ooc; im going to speed things a month or two along}


It always felt strange to think of yourself as being pregnant. Even those that where use to it seemed in shock when it happened again. Salma didn't know if she was pregnant though. Usually the humans had done tests by now to confirm their thoughts or to inseminate her themselves through unnatural ways. Very uncomfortable ways but usually ended up with a foal after it all. It seemed the older she got the harder it was but then she was only eight about the last foal she did have.

Maybe the stallions they were using had lost their virility? Or whatever the word was. Still she stayed here, drinking water, eating, playing. Basically living life as she was meant to. She hadn't met any of the other mares, and to be honest didn't really want to anyway. The old girl liked being the center of attention when Aderalle was around. Summer seemed so close and yet so far away. She wanted it to be warmer! It seemed to still be chilly up here. Had this forest not gotten the memo?

Hopefully summer would be better and much warmer. Lowering her head the girl drank at the pool. Water seemed to never taste so good. Salma hadn't seen Aderalle since this morning and it was a little after noon now. Where was he exactly? Probably eating and maybe spending time with another. Lifting her head up the mare snorted and licked her lips. Was she getting jealous now? No certainly not. Maybe, but a little emotion was a good thing.

[Aderalle]

wicked men tell wicked lies

begin.

Almost a year had fallen through the cracks since he had first found himself ill. It seemed only yesterday that his first winter alone had left his coat dull, his lungs struggling for breath and his eyes lifeless. Now, though, his ribs were happily buried beneath a layer of fat and the bright tinge of green that his coat had been endowed with was as vivid as it had ever been. Aderalle was glad to be back to the state of sleek orderliness that he had been used to, mane free of tangles and hooves worn from the increased activity his body undertook in his daily inspection of the Redwoods. His laziness had always been multiplied tenfold by the dragging, suffocating state of illness.

He thought of Salma often when they were not together, for she was the only one he had ever come to care about. Never had Probli nor Brise given him any reason to extend affection toward them. In blunt reality, Probli was competition and Brise was an ornery witch that would not submit to the completion of his duties as the lead. What use was she if she would not carry his foals? She mostly just ate his grass and breathed his air and spat wicked words at him without justification. It was easy for him to love Salma above the others, but he did not think it would be easy for her to lose that rank. She would have had to commit some act of incredible treason to be cast down from her current pedestal.

Having already checked in on everyone today, Aderalle now found himself with little to do. He grazed occasionally, sprouting circles of grass in various sizes in a relatively random way. This was boring to him once he had taken his fill, and he wandered with little intent. Navigation had become easier now that the paths had been worn down. He knew the way to Salma’s old beaches and to the pond, to a few clearings and to a few different shelters. Addy had become quite comfortable here. He had grown to love it: especially the ability to be alone in a populated space. To hide from another in the Redwoods was easy.

At a fork in the path, he decided on turning left toward the pond. A drink was never something he turned down as he was always rather thirsty. Hooves came slowly down the path, crunching leaves and twigs, body occasionally brushing against the rough bark of a tree or protruding branch.

When the clearing came into view, he was surprised to have company already in place. He was not displeased with this in the least, but said nothing on approach. Ripples fluttered on the water’s surface as his hooves contacted the shore, traipsing in the shallows a bit on his course toward her. “Hello.” His muzzle contacted her neck lightly in greeting before lowering to drink.

end.


OOC: Yeah, good idea.

[WaT]

She sighed and lowered her head down to take a few more sips. She her another being come and her head lifted again. A soft snort and nicker greeted him. "Hello" she said bumping her muzzle into his withers. She wasn't sure what to say to him. About being pregnant or not at least. She honestly didn't know. Maybe she was too old now.

Maybe she hadn't been in heat but she was sure of it. She sighed. Only time would tell if she was or not. She licked his withers and rubbed her chin against them. He sure filled out nicely. Salma was glad that her assumptions had been correct. That and she had tried healing him to speed up the process.

They could always try again if she wasn't. She pawed at the bank and walked over to the grass. She pulled a few blades and looked over back at him. Chewing thoughtfully she swallowed then took another mouthful. "How are things?" Did they have others that she needed to meet or was she the only one? What was it? A raspberry tree sprung up beside her. Normally she didn't eat berries but these were her favorite. Carefully she plucked several and chewed. There wasn't much else they could do. They could race or play a game or something.

She sighed and continued picking through the berries. Salma didn't know how long the plant would live here as she wasn't sure this was right climate. Oh well. She could regrow it many times over. Flicking her tail she shooed away the bugs. Summer was a good season except all the bugs.

[Aderalle]

Here, there is only try,
for the failures never vanish.

begin.

It was pleasant to him that she would greet him with some level of affection. He would never expect her to be overcome with joy or childlike excitement upon his approach, but a touch and a sound was welcomed and elated in. It was always nice to be accepted in your own home, and being wanted was yet more emboldening. Perhaps he was not a failure. Had he proven his family wrong? The answer to that would take more time yet.

He drank in silence for a few minutes, allowing her touch to fall on his withers but no longer becoming rigid to the affectionate contact. The brute was comfortable now, and could simply enjoy being touched rather than stress over it… though he still felt as though he should take it with some sense of gatheredness and respectability. Addy was still the leader here, after all, and that would imply that he should act as a leader does: controlled, confident and at least a tad uppity. In truth, he felt no sense of dominance over Salma - as she had always been quite good at putting him in his place - but he would still act as though he did. Aderalle was sure she knew it was a veil he put up, and that she would eventually come to take it in good humor. It would be quite the secret to the others about the Redwoods that the big bad lead had a big bad soft spot for a little purple mare.

His muzzle lifted an inch or two from the surface of the water as she wandered off, and he watched her move for a second or two. Before the water had finished dripping from his muzzle, it met the glassy surface again. He mused silently on the concentric circles that radiated outward and bounced off the opposite bank. Salma’s words were met with the twitch of an ear and a slap of the tail again fly-ridden hindquarters. Darn this warm weather! The pests seemed out in droves this fine afternoon.

One last gulp, and his black muzzle left the water. Hooves pulled his body a few steps toward her, but he remained at the edge of the water. “As uneventful as ever,” he told her lightly, unable to decide if he was happy with the peace or angry with the boredom. Every day that he did not have to fight someone over his land was a good one, but every day that he failed to enlarge his holdings was a source of depression. There just were not enough horses around! He had done a lot of wandering and seen no one in need of a home. It seemed bleak.

Again, he drank. The sun that hit his back was so warm it had become unpleasant, and the water brought on the disgusting layer of humidity. In a moment, his head lifted again and he wandered toward her slowly, coming up beside her and resting his jaw on her back. Really, she seemed his only hope for gaining more herd members… but he would never ask that of her more times than was fair. A heavy exhale flared his nostrils and he rested a hind hoof. “I’m afraid you’re stuck here with me… and a coupla’ wierdos,” he told her, half joking. Really, she needed to meet them eventually, but he was not going to induce that. Brise would only cause a rivalry between mares, and Probli would probably get his ass beat by a grumpy Addy.

end.