I wonder as I [W] [A] [N] [D] [E] [R]

[Wandering Spirit]

It had been weeks since his departure from that fateful night in the midst of his lowest valley. Little did he know the irony in that tiny crevace at the base of his harem. It truely was his lowest valley, inwardly that is. Never had he taken steps to remove one his heart had pitter-pattered for. While she hadn't been banished, she took the liberty and removed herself from his life completely. While he knew the infatuation their shared had died some time ago, the pain came from elsewhere. They had shared a friendship, no matter how brief, and he had won her trust. A delicate feat from the one who had closed the door to him before ever meeting. She had grown on him, in their times of togetherness and even in their separation. He had missed her in their departure of Mystical Island. And upon seeing her again, he had truly believed that she was the one. But from the beginning of their courtship, it could never be clearer that he was deadly wrong. And so, with a heavy heart, he dismissed her, never to see her again by her own choice. And while he missed her friendship even now, his yolk was easy and his burden was light as he observed his land.

As the sun rose from it's evening slumber, Spirit traveled deeper into the clearing that blessed his lands. It was vast, bountiful and above all else, beautiful. This land was peaceful to him, despite what other turmoil came waltzing in to it. As he carefully planned each step to take, he watched as the brittled leave beneath him cracked with just the slightest bit of pressure. Their once glorious hues of goldenrod and crimson had evolved into the dreary shade of brown. As the little piece of nature burst into a hundred smaller pieces of itself, Spirit couldn't help but see the reflection in his own life. The clan he had been so proud to build seemed to be falling apart. He no longer had a queen by his side, the other doves under his wing hadn't been seen for months, he had recently aquired two other warriors to help protect his land, but without the fairest of maidens to reside within it, it was merely uninhabited turf. And his best friend, his beautiful friend, would barely speak to him. His world had been crashing, just as the little leaves beneath him, and he feared that this final attempt at a lasting herd was over.

Crimson Conflict could possibly be what bothered him most. He knew that his former love rested on his lands. But the stay was only temporary, as she couldn't bear the site of both he and Lune reigning over her. But what he thought was former, hadn't been in his past at all. He wanted her, desired her. Loved her still. But his carelessness had removed all chances of ever rekindling that fireball of a relationship. She had closed herself to him, and was now concentrating on finally moving on with her own journey. With his own feelings so strong, the urge to attempt to win her back was overpowering. But he wouldn't dare inflict any more pain or confusion on the one he held so dear to himself. He would need to let her go too, as painful as it seemed. The two would finally find some peace without each other, if that was what the Lord intended of them. He still hoped for the chance to learn who his daughter was, inside and out. But those dreams seemed shattered just as quickly as them came because of the course of her mother.

And thus, in the times of desperation and depression, he found himself slowly succombing to their demons. His skull lowered to the ground as paper-thin lids covered his pools with their films. He was tired. And he was worn. And for those moments in the wee-morning hours, he would allow himself to be. Until the time came for him to perform his stain-glass masquerade, he would allow the reality of his emotions to strike him at full force. And in this solitude, he found a strange sense of rest as he began the long journey ahead as decision were made for the remainder of his life.


(Seems a little stinky to me, but Rene, you can reply now)

[Crimson Conflict]

Remember the feelings, remember the day
My stone heart was breaking
My love ran away
This moment I knew I would be someone else
My love turned around and I failed

[/color][/size]
C O M P L E T E
Crimson angel drifted through this land, not quite sure why she was still here after her feud with Spirit. It had been a few weeks, and it even puzzled her own soul as to why she had not left, as she had promised to do. Gospel had disappeared that day, too, but Conflict did not mind. Her baby would return after a while, at least for a visit. Gospel finally had her own life. Peach daggers tore up the earth as the seraph moved, bloody tassels flowing behind 'er neck and rump, twisting in magical patterns. As the rhythmic beat of hooves on the cold ground echoed into the skies, the dame's own lips parted slightly and a sigh tumbled forth.

The morning was lazy, sun having hardly enough time to climb into the sky. The star was not far off the horizon yet, its glow only giving off a small light. This light was enough to awaken the songbirds though, and so they flew with parted beaks to announce that it was morning to the world. Dew drops still beaded on the foliage, and the air was damp with early mist. 'Twas gorgeous, this terrain. As the blood splashed angel stepped through the land of her former love, she wondered what it would be like to stay here. To live out her days under the watchful eye of a lord devoted to protecting his flowers. It would be nice, but this single terrain would not suffice. With the King being a stallion she once shared her heart with, and the Queen his newfound angel, living here would tear Conflict even more than she was already torn. Perhaps she would go to a neutral band, and for once settle with those of her rightful alliance. Living with darks might not be half bad either; she had done so before. Aye, Conflict was tired of wandering...she wished to find a permanent home. A place she could find peace at. This would be easy, too, now that her heart was at rest and she no longer had to search for the brute she thought had loved her.

"Damned traitor.." the female thought, ears tilting backward as she allowed memories of the raven cloaked diablo to dance through her mind. "I traveled long in search of him, and when the day came...he was off playing with his new toy." The female snorted slightly, whipcord lashing 'gainst her heels as she moved. Spirit had truly ripped up her heart into yet another piece. So much had happened in this female's life, and she was one-hundred percent pissed off at the male race right now.

First, she had been raped by a stag dubbed Solar Flare. He was the one who had given her the 'demons' that now haunt her and her daughter Gospel. It was Solar Flare's fault that she had murdered a filly, and his fault that she had met the dark male called Obsidian Dusk whom she came to like far too much. Of course, Obsidian abandoned her immediately once he found out that Conflict's dark side was only part-time. The two offspring she bore from Solar Flare were healthy, but Takoya was a cold-blooded and emotionless savage. It was extremely painful to withstand the hatred her own daughter felt toward her, but Conflict was healed over time. Then after that, she met and fell in love with the ink-stained loner named Wandering Spirit. The two had given their hearts to each other, then later were separated by the elements. It was fate that brought them back together, extremely surprised to see each other on an island called Xion. The two had loved each other just as passionately there, and were expecting a child when they were once again separated. Somehow, the island was far behind when Conflict regained consciousness on the mainland. She wandered for a long time, still wanting to be reunited with her mate and partner. The reunion was not as happy as she had thought it would be, however.

Long head turning slightly to the side, vibrantly lashed spheres gazed, with a slight bit of anger, at a nearby plant. Of course, her mind was elsewhere...thinking of the ebony steed whom resided here. "I need to get away from this place," thought she,"Must be out of my mind to have stayed so long already. Damn.." Bloody nymph halted for a moment, wind playing curiously with several fine locks of cocoa. They raised into the air, twirling 'round a bit before effortlessly falling once more to her neck. Mug lifted to the blue yonder, inhaling deeply to taste the air. Not much of interest was caught, only a few stale scents of equine and past smells of other creatures. How boring. Blinking, gorgeous fatale sighed, chest heaving. "I suppose I shall just travel forward then..." she thought, beginning to walk once more.

The seraph stained in carmine walked for about a quarter hour, before seeing a figure in the distance that made her stop dead in her tracks. The equid was unmistakable. Tall, proud, and washed in the blackest of black, Wandering Spirit came into sight. Hooves planted firmly into the ground, Conflict stopped, loud snort of surprise claiming the silence. "Great...just what I need." Thoughts crossed irritable through the maiden's head, ears pinning back slightly. The very horse she had been avoiding for the past weeks had now probably caught sight of her. "Should I run..?" That would be foolish, though. Conflict could face him.

Be my bad boy, be my man
Be my week-end lover
But don't be my friend
You can be my bad boy
But understand
That I don't need you in my life again[/size][/center]

[Wandering Spirit]

There was no such thing as a perfect morning. However, if the idea had existed, the time slot allotted to the world could have been it. Spring bloomed. Flowers stretched their buds, fawns suckled the sweet milk of their mothers, towering trees overhead sprouted fresh peaks, hatchlings peeped for a morsel, and the buzzing bees began their intoxicating dances from the flowers nectar. The memories of the winters passed were quickly forgotten, and optimism blossomed with the dawn of a new day. For one so raven, it was difficult to remain in such a state of depression, but not impossible. And remain, he would. While all around him life burst forth, he himself felt as though his soul had succomed to the death following closely on his heels. Another attempt, another failure at leadership. There weren't simpler words to describe it. One love, extinguished, the other festering hatred with each passing day. Much of the herd had dispersed to greener pastures, leaving him to wallow in his own self pity.

There was one that he knew still resided on his land, one that he dare not approach. She had made it clear that the life she now led contained not a strand of his god-forsaken mane in it. Who was the vixen, you ask? Why, none other than the Crimson Conflict. While the sassy lady spit flames from her mouth toward the jet black stud, he couldn't help but long for her companionship even more. But it was with a heavy heart that the realization of her disgust for him became their new reality.

Lowering his nostrils hellward, he nibbled vacantly at the blades breaking the grounds surface. A significant weight loss had plagued him throughout the winter months, and he knew if he didn't begin a steady regiment of food intake, he would be the very fertilizer to help those morsels grow. As his motions carried him around the plateau, a brief flash of movement caught him off guard. Raising his skull to its rightful position, he found himself staring into the motionless figure of the crimson beauty gripping his mind and soul. Leaving his mouth agape, a few blades portruded from his teeth as they had not yet been consumed. Wondering what she wanted, or if she had even meant to find him at all, his mind reeled in pain as he watched her expression turn from shock to hatred. He contemplated whether or not walking off as if he hadn't noticed her would suit her best. But it was obvious from the train of drool dripping from his mouth that she had in fact been seen.

There were two choices. Run or Talk to her. The first had never suited his style much and he knew that he could very well be ravished by her anger if he dared to approach. Still, there was something he needed to ask. And so, with hooves like lead, he shortened the distance between them. Closer, closer...and closer still until the gap that had separated them was no more than a foot or two. Staring straight into her eyes, his posture was less than appealing as he looked more like a rugged stray than the light king. Still, pride had left him when it came to her and the pain he had caused. As he let a few awkward moments subside, he finally remembered what it was he needed to ask.

"Do you hate me?" he said, and he waited for what seemed like an eternity for her answer.