The Horse and his Drykas [Bolden]

[Ronan]

4th Day of Autumn in 511 AV Autumn had arrived in style. Dark, brooding clouds, threatened thunder and lightning above the moving city of tents. Ronan hugged his arms around himself, feeling a little cold, and a little weary. It was generally warm in the autumn, as it was all year round, but there was no accounting for blips. He was beginning to tire of having no place in the city he could call home. If he could finish his training with Sama'el, and join the Watch as his heart desired, he'd have somewhere to stay. For so many seasons, Ronan had simply pitched up on the outskirts of town, sleeping like the gamboler he was. When the weather was rough, and the air sombre, he longed for at least a canvass bed, rather than the sheets or sleeping bags he slumbered in. He was heading towards the stables to check on Tairell - his Strider. She was a beautiful creature, and sadly neglected as of late. Well, Ronan thought, that's all going to change. He would need to gain a lot more experience in riding, intense training that would hopefully get him to the levels required of Watchmen. A clang of thunder suddenly sounded overhead, and right on cue rain began to tumble from the sky. Ronan scowled, quickening his step. Tairell wouldn't be happy - she relished the warmth, and cowered from the cold. As he saw a bolt of lightning strike a point not far from the city, enlightening the grey sky, he hurried on to the stables to check on his horse. His scowl only worsened.

[Bolden Denusk]

Bolden walked miserably toward the stable frowning and ignoring the rain dripping off his nose and running down his neck. His large, chocolate colored strider, Nightwind followed in tandem beside his rider, his large nose overhanging Bold's shoulder.

"Sorry big guy. I know you don't like captivity but you'll appreciate the rain off your back. You know what you -did- inside my tent last time.." He placed a sodden but affectionate arm over the stallion's withers, the pair entering the stable stride for stride.

Once under a roof, they both steamed with the combination of body heat and drenching rain. As they headed to the back of the stable to the end stall, Nightwind's huge seventeen hand frame effectively blocked Ronan from Bolden's sight. The strider swished an irritated tail at the lightning and pinned back his ears at the loud thunder. He wasn't fond of storms, but he was trained well enough to tolerate what was asked of him.

The roomy, comfortable box stall on the end was for breeding males so Nightwind favored it. The thick straw bedding smelled comforting and felt soft and cozy to the soaked stallion. Bolden was disappointed at their curtailed plans of morning training and decided to give the strider a good grooming instead. The horse's winter coat was growing in quickly and it looked as thick as velvet while it dried under the thorough brushing.

[Ronan]

Ronan hurried into the stables, the rain growing only heavier, and thunder exploding overhead. He quickly became aware of another Drykas in the stables, but he ignored them, and rushed towards Tairell's holding pen. His heart faltered. The Strider was not there. He shook his head, telling himself he was mistaken. Then desperately, Ronan rushed through the stables, checking the pens for Tairell. He couldn't see the horse anywhere. Oh God's... where are you girl? He ran past the man that was tending to his own horse, turning to him desperately. "My strider!? Have you seen my strider!?" he became quickly aware of his own panic, and how foolish he may seem. But he had no time to worry, the storm was quickening outside, and his Strider was missing. His heart was clouded in fear.

[Bolden Denusk]

"Ok big guy, you're settled in until the storm passe--"

"My strider!? Have you seen my strider!?"

Bolden's head jerked around at the note of panic and Ronan's words.

"Your strider's missing? In -this- storm?! Where and when did you last see him or her? If your strider is female, Nightwind could follow that scent forever!"

The Drykas couldn't ever picture losing his best friend in a million years! No wonder the guy was frantic! A blinding flash of lightning threw the trio into a garish light with almost simultaneous, earth shaking thunder. Nightwind neighed loudly, crabstepping at the heavy ozone smell and the sound of the rising winds.

"We'll help you look--no one should be out in this weather without good reason. I"m Bolden and this is Nightwind. Tell me everything you can remember."

While Ronan spoke, he put the yvas back on the enormous chocolate strider and secured the chest piece and girth strap firmly. He put everything back on, including a full wineskin and water proof sacks of dried meat, apples and a separate satchel of horse feed.

OOC :

So sorry about the delay! I've been so scatterbrained lately!

[Ronan]

OOCNo worries dude, I know how hectic life can be! Oh, and if you're confused when I write that Ronan thinks Bolden is familiar, it's because he has had a nasty run in with your relation Vanator before XD The Drykas was friendly, and seemed keen to help, and that allowed Ronan to calm himself just a little. The storm was intensifying outside as Bolden readied his own Strider. "She was right here," he said, rushing back over to Tairell's usual spot. Where was she? She would be frightened to pieces out in that chaos, he thought miserably. Finally, gathering his things about him, he turned back to Bolden. As a great clap of lightning filled the stables, he saw the man's face properly for the first time. He suddenly felt uneasy. That face... it was familiar somehow. He turned away and shook his head - there wasn't time to worry about useless feelings. Tairell was out there, and she could be anywhere, frightened and cold in the growing storm. Ronan pulled on his backpack a little tighter and walked towards the other Drykas. "Has your Strider picked up her scent?"

[Bolden Denusk]

Bolden chuckled to ease the tension.

"Nightwind is a stud stallion so if there's a mare running around, he'll run himself into the ground trying to find her!"

The chime Bold released the stall guard, the strider trotted swiftly out of the stall and headed directly to Tairell's stall. He put his nose to the ground and suddenly stretched his neck up and out, raising his upper lip in an almost horsey grin. He nickered low and deep in appreciation of a mare's fresh scent. The stallion took a step forward and shoved his long roman nose into Ronan's chest and shoved him.

The young Denusk got a flash of an unfamiliar person standing in front of the mare's stall and releasing her. He slapped Nightwind's neck in approval and turned back to Ronan.

"Yea, he definitely has and likes her scent very much. But the other scent he gets near the stall, isn't yours."

The stallion pawed the ground, dipping and arching his neck at the strong scent of mare. Despite the worsening storm, Bolden had no doubt the stallion could track a strider mare anywhere when he set his mind to it.

"A few quick questions first. What's your name? When was the last time you saw her? What condition was she in? Is she scared of storms or does she not really care? Let's take stock of the situation. We'll work it through."

[Ronan]

Another scent...? That implied something more sinister, something done with purpose. Ronan shuddered in spite of himself. "Sorry," Ronan said, blinking into the half-lit darkness. "I'm Ronan Windsong. As for Tairell... she was fine yesterday, her usual cheeky self. And yes, she's terrified of storms. She threw me off once, when lightning hit a quarter of a mile away. She'll be scared... and I'm not entirely sure what she'll do." Who let her out...? he thought, growing increasingly angry. If Tairell was hurt and he discovered who had done this... well, he might not be able to contain his fury. He looked at Bolden again, the man staying calm and seemingly ready to help Ronan sort out this predicament. He tried to put his blind panic aside, and think logically. But when he saw Bolden's face he suddenly realised why it was so familiar. Vanator Denusk. There was something in this man's face that reminded him of the jealous Drykas - he wondered what the connection was. "If your Strider can follow the scent, perhaps we have a chance of finding her... but this rain dampening all the smells surely won't help."

[Bolden Denusk]

Bolden couldn't help but wonder what was sidetracking Ronan from concentrating on his missing strider. The guy just kept giving funny looks. Maybe he had a sister or something that Bold had 'met' at some point?

"Have no worries about a stallion tracking a mare's scent! I don't think even a hunting a dog could do better than an interested male horse."

The tall Drykas couldn't be more confident when it came down to the basic horse facts of life. If a stallion was encouraged to find a mare, nothing would stop him from doing so. While he spoke, he attached a fairly long lead on Nightwind, knowing he'd be very distracted when 'encouraged' to find a mare. Normally for him, that meant a cover as prize, so he'd put some extra effort into the process...

When Ronan looked at him like he was familiar, he -had- to say something about it.

"What's that look for? Do you have a pretty sister, cousin or wife that I've met?" Bold grinned, trying to distract the man and ease his worries a little about his missing mare while Bolden got his stallion ready to go.

OOC :

If you're not entirely familiar with horses, the term 'cover' means sex.

[Ronan]

Panic put aside for the moment, he narrowed his eyes at the cocky man. He wouldn't even reply to that. Jokes about family hurt. They hurt deeply. "No," he said sharply, "you just remind me of someone." He stared into Bolden's eyes again. Yes. This man was a Denusk, there could be no doubt about it. "Vanator," he said slowly, watching Bolden put reigns on the excited Strider. He knew what the man was referring to. The natural desire to mate... to connect. "Vanator Denusk." He couldn't help but say the full name with a twist of his mouth, and the most subtle of snarls. Nightwind looked keen, and he also looked ready. The storm was continuing, billowing tempestuously outside. And somewhere out there was his Strider. Lost. Cold. Alone.

[Bolden Denusk]

When he saw Ronan's expression, Bold was on the cusp of apologizing until he said that name. He visibly winced at the mention of Vanator, all traces of humor vanishing instantly from him. His eyes turned as hard as the amber color they resembled and his mouth turned down as he frowned angrily in an unconscious duplication of Van.

"I see." he answered in two brief, clipped sounds, practically biting out his own words. The young Denusk finished with securely attaching an extra long lead and fully loaded yvas, moving with swift, stern movements. When he turned back to Ronan, his face was an impassive mask of no expression.

A strong, long lead was attached on the right and left of the yvas. Bolden silently handed Ronan the lead on the right while he held on to the left. With his free hand, he put a bit of the mare's soiled straw into an empty bag and brought it with them.

Vanator was the last person in Cyphrus he ever wanted to resemble, but the man had thrown the name out there like a gauntlet to the face. A muscle tic started near his jaw, giving evidence of his clenched teeth and clamped down temper.

He looked over the animal's back at Ronan and nodded curtly, letting him know to prepare himself. With repressed anger, he rubbed the stallion's shoulder and muttered,
"Find your cover Nightwind and we'll follow."

Although the strider was normally attuned to his rider's moods, the scent of mare overrode all else to top priority. He arched his neck and tail and whinnied loud enough to ring to the rafters. Nightwind moved into a swift trot to the door, pawing imperiously until Bolden opened it.

The raging storm hit them with a solid roar of furious wind and driving rain like needles pelting their faces. The angry thunder matched Bolden's mood now, giving him the adrenalin temper to start what could be a difficult search at best. The large strider threw up his head and shook it vigorously. He immediately turned a hard left, almost knocking over Bolden in his haste to find Tairell.