Everyone buried in wasteland
#1
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Sam, sugarwoods

Maples stood around the man. A wood thick with trunks that produced towering arms above his head. Perhaps at a time the forest was managed, evident only by the stumps that survived weather and decay. They were bodies cut at the ankles, smooth and strait. The gold eyes looked down at them, wondering why there were so many and what it meant for these lands. It was only a small amount of evidence; the forest had quickly reclaimed all that they might have left. Even the small houses only stood under the camouflage of fallen leaves, branches and towering trees that now knew no bounds.

The male road the mare, wearing nothing but Mother Nature granted fur. It had been morning when he ventured out into the unclaimed lands, but now the sun was high and tipping downward into dusk and he had yet to see a single soul. There was no reason for the male to run from his homelands, for his leader no longer sought his head for loving the King’s daughter figure. But Heath found it impossible to confront him so soon, and ventured outward in hopes of either materials or a refreshed mind. A small clearing was birthed from the roots of ancient trees and Heath dismounted to explore it. The mare was left to her own accord, while the male walked along with the thought of a meal stirring in his stomach.





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#2
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            He couldn’t truly understand the enslavement of less mentally developed animals by certain wolves. It seemed more of a nuisance, keeping track of the hoofed beast while restraining the desire to sink one’s fangs into its soft, fleshy hide. His own paws worked well enough, and he wasn’t lazy enough to require the support of another animal to carry him from place to place. He could cover ground on his own terms, low to the ground with the predator’s fluid slink. And yet, as he watched the male on his steed he couldn’t help but envision an almost sense of power arising from such a high seat. It showed control, and it showed dominance. A horse’s hooves, when properly used, could smash a wolf’s skull into splinters in a single blow. He allowed the thought to linger in his thoughts, filled away for later judgment.

            For now, he slunk from the shadows, standing on four legs and peering up at the blue and black marked herbivore. Ignoring the owner not far away, he circled the creature, silently observing the creature with blood-red eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised if his scent caused the animal some insecurity, but all was ignored, taking in the hooves, the strong legs, the muscled body, and the fine head. This animal was stronger than a deer, for sure, and obviously unintelligent—in other words, easily created into an ideal companion. Pausing, sleek head never turning away from the creature, vision shifted out of the corner of his eye, seeking hybrid who’d left his pet alone, in the event he came running back with fangs bared and fully prepared for war.




table by alli
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#3
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The sky melted into something that held more color the Heath knew names for. Honey hued eyes looked from it to the tree line that surrounded the clearing. It hovered over him, and the scents that lingered were nothing more then the fragrant melody of the forest. Trees, dead leaf litter and the hint of a melee of small mammals. None close enough to be captured above the earth or chased from a burrow. Heath lingered just a moment longer, and then without taking his eyes off the ground he called for the mare that nosed the ground for grass.

Lumière had studied the sweet morsels of green beneath the leaves until she had decided to take a taste. It was not the fruit that the pastures of the stables granted, but would do for this trip. The mare moved slowly, an ear or eye always on the male that she had claim as her seasons ago. He was hers, even if it looked like the other way around. The roan mare had stumbled across the battered and torn beast and told him it was time to follow. He had ever since. It was to keep his confidence intact that she heeded his call and came when he asked. She had come to be bored of the new place anyways.

The horse’s nostril flared, the scent of the unknown floating to her. Her unease was easily seen on her form and instead of heading the call, the mare stared at the new creature. Black eyes watching as ear turned back and head lowered.






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