l.et me paint the c.ountryside

[- Indian - Paintbrush -]

Flames, smoke, heat, and fire- four things that ruined her home, well, not her home, her mothers, her dead mother's home. A look of pain crossed the face of the cherry hued mare, nothing could replace her mother, nothing could ease the pain, nothing; so why bother with the herd life? Because it was her only way of survival, that was the only way she knew how to live, in a herd, without one, she would starve. Sure, there was grass right beneath her hooves but the lonley aire about the area kept her from grazing, from filling her empty stomach. The claiming lands was what these were, a land where mares of all shapes and sizes came to gain acceptance into a honorable herd, and to be watched over by a handsome stag of their dreams, the only problem here was that there was no stallion, there were no dreams of a stud that would come to rescue the fair maiden, Indian Paintbrush would be alone... forever.

Paper thins quivered at the slightest hint of a strange smell, one had to be alert and on the watch for predators and some not-so-nice stallions out there, they existed, and she knew it. Indian Paintbrush trotted swiftly towards a nearby oak tree, hiding herself in its shadows, sheltering the mare from the outside world. Now it was just the horse and the tree.

[.[Kahne].[Criptic].]

Kahne walked into the claiming grounds, hoping to spot another horse. He wasn't expecting any mares to find his Valley, so he thought it would be best to graze here. For a moment, he stopped grazing and picked up his sculpted muzzle. He could sense another horse, but couldn't smell, see, nor hear one.

[- Indian - Paintbrush -]

A soft sigh was released as she saw no other equine nearby, but as soon as she was pleased for the absence of others, Indian Paintbrush soon found herself wanting someone to come, anyone. An almost silent whine was released, not a bratty whine, one of those as if you had lost all hope whines. There was no hope for her, none.

But with a passing wind, a new scent caught the mare's attention, a stallion in the area, close too. Almost immediately, that first feeling returned, wishing that she was invisible, no one else could see her. If only.

[.[Kahne].[Criptic].]

Kahne walked closer to the sense, knowing there was a horse there-- a mare. As he walked what seemed closer, there was a feeling of friction, of blockage. As if he wasn't supposed to go on. But he did.

[- Indian - Paintbrush -]

She grew silent as the sounds of another approaching reached her audits, this stallion knew that she was here. But would this stag be nice? Or would he be cruel and hurt her? It wasn't really a chance that she wanted to take; Indian Paintbrush remained silent as a rock, moving closer to the tree as if to conceal herself in the shadows. The form of the light colored stallion was now visible, the mare's heart thumped loudly in her chest, the suspense grew, as did the fear and anticipation.

[.[Kahne].[Criptic].]

Kahne nickered softly, not wanting to frighten the horse he was about to come upon. Taking a few soft steps, he drew close to a large oak. Now, his nostrils informed him of a very, very near mare. He nickered again, trying to submit his placid intentions. Waiting for the mare to show herself, he put his head down and grazed calmly. The small shoots of foilage where obviously trampled only minutes ago, but still held tiny drops of dew, casting a misty, blissful atmoshpere.

[- Indian - Paintbrush -]

A soft nicker of the stallion alerted her, his tone told her that he meant no ill doing, he came in peace. As the rustling of the intruder ceased, Indian Paintbrush craned her head out towards where she presumed the stallion was, had he seen her? Or was he just pausing for a little break? Aw, she couldn't take it any more.

The cherry coated femme crept silently out form the shadows, the sunlight revealed the figure of a light hued stud, just... grazing there. See, he just stopped by to graze... She started to think, then a wince could be seen on her face as her thoughts continued, ... I doubt that he would be looking for any mares, let alone one like me. So there she stood, watching that stally before her, choosing to remain silent as before, her thoughts running wild.

[.[Kahne].[Criptic].]

Kahne picked his head up quickly yet silently, seeing movement through the corner of his eye. His face lit up in a subdued smile.

He sayed low, as if his body was still grazing yet his head and gallant neck were admiring the reddened mare. He nickered yet again, seeing that the mare was slightly nervous. Calmly, he stepped up to her and nuzzled her muzzle gently.
Hello, I'm Kahne. May I ask for your name? he murmered.

[- Indian - Paintbrush -]

She began to move back into the shadows as she noticed that the stag had spotted her, but it seemed useless; he already knew she was here, so why try and flee? As the stallion moved towards her, Indian Paintbrush didn't hesitate to step away from him this time. But he still caught her snout in his, an affectionate gesture for sure, nothing evil about it. She halted in her tracks, her withdrawl coming to an end; she listened to his words, an introduction for sure, she knew his name and now he wanted to know hers. Indian Paintbrush... She stated, stopping herself from continuing on with the normal words, '... but you can call me what you wish.' No, this time, she was going to be called by her proper name, the name that her mother gave her... her mother. The mare's orbs glazed over in thought of the deceased matriarch.

[.[Kahne].[Criptic].]

Kahne smiled again.
Indian Paintbrush? That's beautiful, he acclaimed. As he said this, Kahne could see her grow distant. What was she thinking about? Better not to disturb her thoughts, he realized. This mare was very mysterious, he concluded. But he liked that about her. Most horses he'd met were boastful and proud. There was something about Indian Paintbrush, something that lured him to her. He could distinguish, beneath her cautious and distant exterior, that deep within her core she was much much more. So Kahne stood his ground, watching her.

[- Indian - Paintbrush -]

The mare simply dipped her crown in thanks for the compliment he had given. Her audits were still perked atop her head, alert and , taking in the stallions words, but her mind was far away- back to the death. Her mother seemed just fine, living in a strong herd with little worries if any at all, all was happy. But then one day... she just dropped dead. Cause of death: unknown; that might have been what hurt the most, the shocking picture of seeing her mother there not waking up from her slumber, and the fact that remained hidden. Why did she die?

Becoming of her day dreaming, Indian Paintbrush herself out of her little period of reminiscence, back to the present. She looked to the stallion that had remained silent, that was kind of him, not to disturb her quiet time. But she almost wished that he had... so those memories wouldn't be so fresh.

[.[Kahne].[Criptic].]

Kahne watched the mare, intrigued by how deep in thought she was. He wanted to say something to comfort her, to bring her into the present. But he didn't know what words would do that. Kahne swatted at a large horsefly that had perched atop his back. It was the only insect that had 'bugged' him since he'd arrived in this wonderous place. He bent down to graze quietly, hoping omninously that no outsiders were bothering the mare that stood so very near to him. Kahne stopped himself as he thought this. Was he starting to care about this mare? The thought crossed him as indifferent, and made him think-- hard.
Indian Paintbrush, he murmered slowly, gently, would you like to come to my Hidden Valley with me? He chose his words carefully, trying to persuade her. Now that he'd realized it, he really wanted to make Indian Paintbrush happy. And he wanted her to forget about whatever was eating at her.