Old Men Complain {everscale}

[.๑whovian๑.]

Forest

Old man at heart.

Forest was an old man. Okay, not really, but for crying out loud, he wasn't exactly young. Okay, he was only seven, but in this world, that was an achievement! A ripe old age, wasn't it? The dark bay stallion meandered along the cliff-line moodily staring down at the raging sea below. He snorted. Why was the weather so bad these days? The sea was never calm, it was never quiet and beautiful any more around here, and it made him angry. It also made his joints sore. Well...not really, but he liked to think that it did.


He was actually a rather handsome horse, just over seven years old, tall, and strong. He was dark bay, well groomed, and he had very few scars of any sort. His dark, stormy grey eyes held depth and wisdom, but damn him if he was going to share it. He tossed his head, imagining a fly in his ear, and swished his tail moodily back and fourth. "What is this, eh?" he grumbled. "Weather? Can't it be nice for a change? The bloody waves just never stop trying to upset my balance, the wind rips at my mane, and the cold bites my joints," he growled. "Can't an ol' man have a peaceful moment?!" his voice raised to a shout. Nothing happened. "I thought not," he grumbled.

He continued to carefully make his way along the cliff, glancing down at the water ever so often. However, he wasn't paying very close attention to his feet, because as he took a step, his left hind hoof hit a crumbling patch of rock, and he slipped. He cried out in fear as his back end slid to the left, his right hind hoof following helplessly after the left, as he began sliding down the steep slope. The bay stallion let out a bellow of fear and anger, and he disappeared down the slope. He stopped some ten feet down, but only because he dug his hooves into the side. He stood there for a moment, considering his situation. Now he was a dead man, after all those years, all that time, it was all for nothing. He sighed, and looked up. Then, he realized something.

"Damn it all," he growled. "I'm way too young for this!" With an almighty heave, he drove his hind legs into the ground, and launched himself upwards. His hooves ground against the crumbling rock and dirt, and though they slid, the cliff was no match for the powerful warmblood stallion. His front hooves practically clawed, as twelve hundred pounds of warmblood power scaled the rocky slope. In just under a minute, with an almighty leap from behind, the horse jumped the last four feet, finding grip in the slippery dirt, and landing hard, but steady on the cliffs edge, and moving away from it. "That's what you get ya bloody rock! Next time ya think your gonna take me out, just remember who it 'tis your dealin' with hear!" he shouted, his accent becoming more and more prominent as he got angrier and angrier.

He snorted fiercely, and turnd to make his way along the cliff, closer inland, all the while snorting. After a time, he calmed himself down, and merely wandered along moodily. "Damn cliff," he grumbled.

words; 558
muse; great
notes; he is so Welsh. xD omg that was really fun.

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[Deleted]

Autumn Frost

Autumn paced with quiet caution along the cliff's edge. Her every step seemed more like a skipping beat in a sort of dance - light-footed and slender, she had no trouble with keeping her balance here, on this delicate precipice where rocks were constantly splitting themselves away. Her shimmering russet tail flicked easily, as though the streaming silk could help her maintain her balance. As though she needed help. She had walked these cliffs all day and had yet to lose her balance.

Granted, that was probably because she was simply smart enough not to try and run across them.

She had just begun to think she might like to get off of the cliffs, head away towards more solid and fertile ground, when she spotted another horse. A stallion, she could tell by the ripple of muscle beneath his pelt and the sheer power of his movements. Young, though several years older than she was, and not at all weak. His pelt, of the deepest bay tone, shone scarless and brilliant beneath the stormy skies. She snorted quietly, tossing her mane. He looked rather... irritable, judging by the set of his ears and the swish of his tail. But that wasn't going to put Autumn off. Another mare might have veered away, tried to take another path and avoid the grumpy stallion.

She was not going to go out of her own way just because he was having a bad day.

Picking lightly across the tumbling rocks, she trotted up alongside him, intent on moving by and continuing. But not without a friendly word, of course. Autumn was always polite.

"Hello," she murmured quietly, ducking her head to the stallion as she passed.

[.๑whovian๑.]

Forest was far too busy wallowing in his recent misery to really notice the mare approaching. Ears back, he walked along, muttering to himself as he went, still cursing the cliff and its stupidness. Was that even a word?

WIP