The Little People Come

[Swede]

Igraine tossed her mane frantically. Where was that filly? So she was a year old. She was not even full grown yet, and those who were smallest in a big world had best stick together. "Canisp!" she shouted loudly. Her rounded frothy grey body barreled across the ground at top speed, desperately searching for her lost daughter.

Maerad was just a bay streak beside her. She too had called for Canisp, who was her best friend along with Igraine. She had a more exuberant gait, knees picked up higher, head held more aloft, tail streaming elegantly. She splashed into the shallows of the fountain, standing ankle-deep in cool swirling water, eyes searching the horizon intently.

Canisp heard them, and sprinted lightly across the fields towards her mother and friend. "I'm here!" she called desperately. "I got lost, but I'm okay. NO mama, really I am," she snorted, shoving away the inquisitive Igraine. "I'm just happy I found you guys. I had no idea where you were."

[Swede]

ooc: withers? Anyone?

[flyff]

[OOC: D'you mind if I come in?]

An elegant white mare galloped into Gathering Fountain. However, the action was so smooth and fluid that it was more like she flowed into the area, her slender legs stretching and taking in the ground, pulling on her svelte body with surprising power. Her mane streamed like a light, frothy banner behind her, speckled with colorful, fragrant blossoms that, strangely enough, didn't fall away. She was a mystery from first sight.

She skimmed over the ground almost soundlessly, silent in her flight. White Dove cast a brief glance behind her, to make sure her daughter was following.

A little filly with a coat the same, stunning snow-white color as her mother's came in at an odd, lopsided, but surprisingly fast gallop, right after her mother, and quickly catching up as well. She caught a few glances from the mares that stood around the Fountain, glances of surprise that quickly turned to pity. Fleur had seen it too many times to count, now that she was a yearling. But a bright and energetic yearling she was. She was the same as any other filly her age, if not more playful and inquisitive. The deformed filly seemed to be making up for her loss of her leg with an infectious, unquenchable zest for life.

Shrieking with glee, she overtook her mother, shouting, "Come now, Mother, I know you're better than that!"

[Swede]

ooc: no prob- no time to post now, will tomorrow. Off to eat my dad's birthday cake!

[Swede]

Igraine raised her head, shaking it irritably. All this nonsense running about, waste of time and energy and just disturbs the peace. Flakes. She was not an ill-natured mare; just easily annoyed. A powerful friend she could be, in times of need. The grey matriarch tossed her mane, taking a long drink from the fountain. Her short, hardy stature belied her tough-as-nails personality. This was a mare who was more than prepared to kill if her brood was threatened. She had come close several times.

Her daughter, Canisp, was at first glance the polar opposite of Igraine. Playful and energetic, she seemed to hold all the innocence that Igraine lacked. She often left her mother's side to frolic with Maerad; Igraine never put up with foolish play, and Canisp didn't mind. Maerad, though adult, was closer to her age anyway. Still, the difference between mother and daughter lessened if you learned more about them- Canisp was just as stubborn and temperamental as the grey mare. But now she was all joy, and stepping into a clipped gallop, she raced to greet the newcomers, aiming especially for the three-legged filly.

Maerad was the bay, easily as stubborn as any other Welsh pony, but also more easygoing than Igraine. She was a filly at heart, and played with Canisp as though they were of the same age. She, too came loping towards the snowy mare and foal, tossing her head and whinnying excitedly. It was not every day that they were able to meet others. Typically, they were always on the run, especially from wild stallions that were generally twice their size and wouldn't hesitate to kill Canisp. Even Igraine would have trouble fending off such a danger. But this pair didn't look dangerous.

ooc: blah.

[flyff]

[OOC: Don't worry, I don't have any muse, either ]

The long-legged mare overtook her daughter quickly. Skidding to a stop, just slightly in front of the filly, White Dove watched the rambunctious pair of ponies that approached at a nearly alarming speed.

Although she knew there was no reason to be, Dove always became twice as protective as normal whenever another foal her daughter's age approached. Perhaps it was because, sooner or later, she knew that Fleur would meet a spiteful foal, colt or filly, that would tease her about her lack of a leg, and Dove wasn't sure that Fleur could handle it... without exploding. However, at a second glance, she knew that these two were friendly... even if the older mare seemed, to Dove, a bit immature. But what of it, really?

The white mare nudged her daughter gently towards the rapidly approaching pair. "Good afternoon!" she called to the three ponies - for she now saw another, older-looking pony in the background - with her elegant, silvery voice.

Fleur needed no second bidding from her mother to greet the mare and filly. The yearling could tell from a distance that this pair would be great fun to play with, and with surprising agility, the energetic little cripple burst forward at a lopsided gallop to meet the pair head on. She stopped a foot or so away from them, as her adoptive mother had taught her to do, and called brightly, "Oh, hello, hello!" The young one absolutely loved meeting other horses. "My name is Fleur, what's yours?"

[Swede]

Igraine shrugged. They seemed pleasant enough. "A good 'un it is," the grey matriarch answered casually, before returning to her grazing. She was not antisocial; simply enjoying herself, and with nothing to say, did not intend to try creating conversation that would only result in awkward silences. However, if the others had something interesting to say, she had no qualms about chatting with them.

Maerad and Canisp were her polar opposites. They slid to a halt directly in front of the newcomers. The bay mare opened her mouth, but it was Canisp who cut her off and said excitedly, "I'm Canisp, and this is Maerad, and that's my mama over there. Want to play?" She was afflicted with spring fever, and every molecule in her body was alive and sparkling with energy. Maerad nodded affirmatively, and added, "It's not every day we get company. You'll visit with us a bit, won't you?"

[flyff]

The mare sent a brief, appraising look at the filly and her older bay companion. They seemed a friendly, if slightly naive, bunch. Harmless enough, she told herself. And yet, she could hardly bear to stand back while she watched her daughter cheerily begin a conversation with the two. Dove knew she was being silly, and yet, she knew that hearts were easily broken... she of all horses should know about broken hearts. And she would do anything and everything within her power to protect her little deformed daughter from the same life Dove had had.

Fleur was busy addressing her new friends, for, although they didn't know each other very well yet, she already considered them friends, and thus, while she was usually so sensitive to such things, did not sense her mother's nervousness from afar.

"Oh, my mother and I don't have much company, either," she positively gushed, whipping around her snow-white mane in her excitement. "But we'll come visit you, so long as you're nice, I think! Mother sometimes thinks that horses aren't nice when they really are, but if she knows that you're nice, maybe we can come visit you! Oh, that would be lovely!" The very prospect of it sent the energetic little yearling all aflutter.

[Swede]

ooc: Igraine's is still chillin'. No muse for anyone, especially not her.

Canisp nodded happily. "So it's settled then," she announced, feeling grown-up, "You will visit and you can play with us." Maerad smiled indulgently. She was young at heart, but not as much as the black filly. "It's nice to meet someone kind for once," she added to Canisp's words. "Not very many will be nice to us. They either think we're weak, since we're short, or they just hate us for some reason. Some stupid mustang actually tried to kill Canisp- you can imagine what Igraine did to him." The bay mare grinned involuntarily. The mustang had not been so uppity afterwards. "So we've sort of been hiding and running away. We're tough, and we're strong, but it's bad odds when we're up against a group of young, bored stallions. But you don't look like the sort who would attack us, especially not just for fun." And if they did, well, Maerad had learned a couple tricks from Igraine. No one was hurting her little family. They were all she had.

[flyff]

The elegant mare sighed, and lowered her majestic head for just a moment to graze. However, a second later it shot up again, her frothy mane sent flying, so that her brilliant sapphire eyes could refocuse on her daughter, who still seemed to be innocently and cheerfully conversing with her newly made friends.

White Dove sighed. She hadn't talked to another mare in a depressingly long time, she realized. Fleur had filled her life with happiness... and yet, now she remembered that Fleur would not always be a little filly that needed to be taken care of. Someday Fleur would go off and find herself a stallion, and Dove would be alone again.

Her wandering gaze caught on the bent figure of the grazing grey mare, who hdn't said much at all, and who was obviously a maternal figure to the other two ponies. Taking in a slow, deep breath, she broke into a flowing, easy trot towards her. She supposed it was time she made some new friends of her own.

The disfigured yearling, unaware of her mother's intent gaze, was gaping disbelievingly. "No! They would attack you just because you're little?" she gasped, sounding shocked. "Why, that's terribly mean of them! My mother doesn't like stallions very much, but if they always act like this, I can see why!" Although she was a cheerful and talkative little filly, she was also rather unworldly.

"Where do you live, anyways?" Fleur, the eager subject-changer, was suddenly sounding rabidly curious. She and her mother had never really known a stable home. She wondered if these three ponies, so shunned by stallions, would ever get claimed by one?

[Swede]

Igraine's leathery lips made short work of the grass, taking it off right down to the ground. The forage was lush and verdant here, and there was no need to be encompassing. However, she had lived over a decade in wild lands where food was scarce and it was difficult to get enough just to survive; she wasn't about the change her old habits. And one could never be too careful; a heavy drought could hit soon and food would be hard to come by. One never knew.

As the other mare approached, Igraine lifted her head cautiously. She was not afraid- fear was not something one associated with any Welsh matriarch. But there was no harm in being wary. But the other didn't appear to mean any evil. The grey Welsh gave a courteous dip of her head, and said breezily, "Fine filly you've got there. Lovely day out, isn't it? My name's Igraine." She stood patiently, fluffy tail fluttering slightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maerad giggled. "Well, some stallions are mean. But some of them are actually quite nice..." She smiled smugly. It was fun when one of them acted all kind and gracious, doting on the girls. They had had many a good laugh behind the backs of such studs, never within earshot of course. And they always received cordial invitations to stay for a while, which they declined just as politely. The mares saw through every ruse, and never abandoned each other. They had grown used to independence from males, and quite liked it by now. Besides, those studs were all enormous.

Canisp shrugged quite happily. "We live nowhere. Or everywhere?" She wrinkled her nose in thought. "What would you say we do? We don't stay in one place a long time, and we always move around. But we kind of like it like that. It's fun. And you never see the same boring old place twice." Canisp had never known anything but wandering, so perhaps her view was biased, but how was she to know that?

[flyff]

She nodded slowly, the tips of her blossom-riddled mane whispering across her shoulders. The gray pony did not stare openly at her mane and tail, and the flowers in them, like most horses did. That was the reason why she did not often like the company of other mares... their disbelieving stares made her feel uncomfortable. Although the pony's lack of surprise was almost unnerving at first, the mare quickly decided she liked this Igraine.

"And my name is White Dove," she said, flashing one of her rare smiles at the stout mare. "It is a lovely to meet you." After that, the mare fell silent. Dove was not a talker.

Fleur nodded thoughtfully. "My mother and I do that as well. She doesn't let us stay in the same place for long... especially if we see any stallions there. Sometimes I think she's afraid of them..." The yearling's voice trailed off into nothingness as she considered this possibility. Her lovely, proud mother, afraid of a stallion? That was ridiculous. And yet, she knew that her mother was constantly shooing them around simply because a stallion caught sight of them... rather like Fleur did not like to play in the same place if she'd heard rumors of cougars there. Because she was afraid of them.

[Swede]

Igraine nodded briefly. "Pleasure, White Dove." So the white mare wasn't a talker. The Welsh matriarch didn't mind; idle gossip could be extremely irritating. She was curious to know her history; it must have been interesting, to say the least. A withdrawn mare with flowers in her mane, alone except for her three-legged daughter. Well, Igraine was more respectful than that, and believed that if someone wanted to share their pat, they would share it.

Canisp pricked her ears, interested. "I guess that makes sense. But we aren't afraid of any stallions, are we, Maerad?" she said boastfully, looking for the bay mare's support. "Nope," the older one answered cheerfully. "We are Welsh mares, born and bred to be tough in the wild, and no sissy stallion has ever gotten the best of us yet. Those who tried got their behinds whipped by Igraine and yours truly." The black filly looked indignant. "I would have helped! Mum just said I was too little. But now I'm older, and I'm not so little any more! Course, You'll be much taller than me always, cause you're the big type and we're the wee ones. But I don't mind being smaller. Mum says we make up for it with our great, big hearts!" Canisp was excessively proud of her heritage, like the others in her little family. It was just about all they had left.

[flyff]

"She is a fine filly, isn't she?" The word from Dove's mouth were so quiet, they were almost silent. One could barely tell she was even speaking... it looked as if her mouth wasn't moving at all. "I found her abandoned and alone. Mother dead, probably. She wouldn't say. She didn't know. She was too young." The mare arched her neck gracefully, bending down to graze on the thick, lush summer grass. The flowers in her mane were hardier during the summer season... they weren't quite as abundant as they were in spring, and yet, still quite as beautiful.

The little filly's brilliant blue eyes were wide admiration. "Ooooh, really?" she gasped. "Fighting off all those fierce stallions? Really? Did you really do that? Mother says that stallions are awful good fighters, so you guys must be even better fighters!"

However, before they even had a chance to reply, Fleur rushed in with another change of subject. "I'm not that much taller than you, really! No, I don't think so!" The deformed filly hobbled forward, quite adeptly, so that she and Canisp were nose-to-nose. "Am I really?"

[Swede]

Igraine shook her head. "Ah, 'tis always a pity when a young thing loses her mother. Looks like you've brought her up well, though. Canisp on the other hand, is fairly uncontrollable and full of wild ideas. I'm afraid Maerad has been a poor influence, though I'm not so innocent myself." The grey shrugged. Yes, she was headstrong and hypocritical. Canisp took after her, which among some might have been a bad thing; but the band was Welsh, and this was how things went.

Canisp straightened up proudly. "Oh yes! Some of them thought they were so big and tough, but like Mum always says, never mess with a pony in a grumpy mood!" The inquisitive black filly lowered her voice just above a whisper, and leaned in conspiratorially. "And Mum is a veeeeery grumpy sort, you know." She giggled secretively. Maerad swished her tail affirmatively. "That's right. You don't make Igraine angry, 'cause then you end up squished like a bug in the ground. Well, not that squished. But you get my point." Maerad herself didn't fear Igraine at all. It was the way of the moor Welsh; you simply couldn't get by without a little bit of aggression.

[flyff]

White Dove shook out her fragrant mane, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling as she watched the rambunctious black yearling talk animatedly with her daughter. "She seems quite fine filly to me. I suppose that having an older sister is nice for the little one... I'm sure Fleur would appreciate any extra companionship, though. She's quite a little butterfly... talks more than I can handle, sometimes." The mare continued to graze absently, giving an inward sigh of contentment. It had been awhile since she'd talked so comfortably and openly with another mare... the sun was strong, but not too much, and the grass was sweet and abundant. She could do this all day.

The little filly's eyes, just a shade or so lighter than her mother's, widened enormously. "Really? Would she really do that?" Fleur gasped. Casting a glance at the slumping gray mare, she whispered confidentially to her new friend, "I never would've guessed. She looks quite gentle, really, like my mother! But I guess she isn't! Funny how that is, isn't it?" The yearling gave a small, nervous giggle.

[Swede]

Igraine sighed sympathetically. "Sounds like my daughter, Canisp. Right little chatterbox, that one is. Course, Maerad doesn't do much to help. We used to live with humans, but she always wanted adventure. I'm not sure why I ever tolerated her, but I did. Well, the time came when leaving was better than staying, so here we are, and that ridiculous mare never shutting up. They aren't related by blood, but inseparable friends." The stubborn Welsh mare shook her head. "Quite an immature sort- doesn't enjoy adult company much, but gets along fine with the wee ones. Tell me, where are you two from?" She was curious to know the history of such an odd pair- a mare with flowers in her mane, and a three-legged filly.

Canisp nodded affirmatively. "Oh yes. She's gentle until you misbehave, and then take cover! I prefer hurricanes myself." She was exaggerating quite a bit, but like most young horses, she enjoyed the attention. She flicked her tail and looked up at Maerad with a gleam in her eye. "I propose a race," the black yearling announced grandly, "Between Fleur and myself, around the fountain and back." The bay mare nodded formally. "And, both contestants willing, I am prepared to judge the outcome. Fleur, do you accept Canisp's challenge?" Maerad often raced with Canisp, though the filly tired of losing constantly and hated winning because Maerad went easy on her. Here was one that was approximately the same size.

[flyff]

White Dove nodded slowly and thoughtfully. "I never met humans," she said softly, her brilliant sapphire eyes straying to the horizon, her head lifted. Dove had always pondered the thought of moving on, getting out of this place. Sunshine River was, of course, where she had first found Fleur, but she had a feeling that, if Fleur grew any older here, Sunshine River's substantial population of stallions would want to claim her. The very thought sent shudders down her spine. If any stallion broke her daughter's heart like Dove's stallion had once broken her own...

The mare jerked out of her reverie and realized that she had been grinding her teeth, a bit painfully. Shaking out her flowery mane, she sighed and lowered her head to graze. "Nowhere worth talking about," Dove said lightly. "I had a stallion once, but he..." She paused for a moment. "Well, he gave me plenty reason to leave." It took lots of resolve to keep herself from grinding her teeth again. "I found Fleur here at Sunshine River. Watering Hole, in fact."

The little white yearling perked up at the thought of a race. She loved races!

"That's an absolutely fantastic idea!" Fleur squealed, her light blue eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. She gave a little, albeit slightly awkward, three-legged hop of joy. "Let's go! I bet I'll beat you!" Her grin looked big enough to break free from her little face. She could already feel the wind whipping through her mane, and a victorious cheer on the tip of her tongue. Whenever she had playmates, which wasn't very often, unfortunately, they always seemed to underestimate her running ability... thus, she always managed to win the race. Fleur relished the look of disbelief that would always be on their faces.

[Swede]

Igraine shrugged. ''Not much about them,'' she commented. ''Some humans are kind, some less so. A bit like us, really- you get all sorts and nothing you can do about it, so just go with the flow. I liked them well enough, no troubles with ours.'' The little grey mare swished her tail against her legs, and sighed. ''Stallions. Never trouble myself with them. They're only good for one thing, and they cause more trouble than they're worth. Some are ridiculous fools; others downright nasty. I think highly of you, to leave. I daresay I better environment for little Fleur, too.''

Maerad lined herself up, nosing the younger pair into position. ''Canisp, back up a step!'' she barked, ''I won't take any cheating while I'm judge.'' The black filly stuck out her tongue and moved a reluctant inch backwards. Maerad narrowed her eyes, but relented and announced loudly, ''Everyone ready? All right, on the count of three. One! Two!'' She paused for a second. Canisp glanced at Fleur shrewdly. ''THREE!'' But the filly had already taken off. ''Hahaha!'' she shouted over her shoulder, ''Catch me if you can!''

[flyff]

"Indeed.. the stallions have been nothing but trouble ever since Fleur and I started traveling together. A pretty white mare makes a good prize for the greedy creatures," she said bitterly, her electric blue eyes flashing angrily. "I can sometimes hardly believed that they're, in any way, related to us mares."

She flicked her mane, and a whiff of floral scent from its many blossoms burst like a suddenly blooming flower into the heavy, late-summer air. Autumn would be here soon. White Dove couldn't help give a sigh, and lower her head in a bit of a sentimental manner, at that thought. This autumn would mark her first full year of having lived here. It had been a busy year... they'd been constantly on the move, constantly in danger, from predators running rampant to fierce stallions willing to force-breed any remotely pretty mare. Yet their little happy moments had made it a year full of more happiness and love than some would experience in their lifetimes.

And to think that this time last year Dove had been so deluded to think that her handsome stallion, her love, would be ever faithful. She should've known. He was always out visiting their neighboring herd... he was always a bit distant when he was at home. And yet she simply couldn't understand... White Dove had been called beautiful, a simply beautiful mare all her life. Once a stallion got a beautiful mare to call his own, why would he ever lust after a mare from another herd? She understood. It was a stallion's pride to have many mares in his herd, and to breed with each one, but why, oh why, would he ever want to breed with a mare from another herd?

Jerking back to reality, Dove realized she was grinding her teeth. Smiling a bit grimly to herself, she thought, Your teeth will be worn down like an old crone's before their time, the way you're going.

"Hey! NO fair!" Fleur tried to sound angry, but her reprimand was overcome by shrieks of pure delight as she shot off like white lightning after the little pony. Her way of running was a bit awkward and lopsided, and a rock the size of an apple, placed right, could have her tumbling to the ground. However, luckily enough for the little yearling, the lush field surrounding Gathering Fountain was very flat and easy to run on. Fleur hobbled faster and faster, feeling herself fly forward, exhilaration pounding through her little, crippled body, a gleeful laugh ripped from her breathless throat.

[Swede]

Igraine nodded in agreement, watching the younger horses absentmindedly. Canisp looked to be enjoying herself properly; that was good. She had been without company her own age, so this would be a pleasant experience for her. And perhaps Maerad would finally realize she wasn't a filly anymore, and needed to take on the responsibilities and maturity of adulthood. Not that Igraine had anything against playfulness, or happiness, but it was frankly ridiculous the way that the bay mare acted. It made the matriarch feel like she was fostering two wild colts, instead of a single filly. ''Stallions do have their uses though,'' she said musingly, ''I'll be the first to admit that it can be tough, being a mare on her own. Maerad's not much help, really. Still, we get by well enough. It was easier with the humans, but I don't miss them much.'' She looked up at Dove, then back at the foals. She was typically the smallest whenever she gathered with other mares, but it didn't bother her. It was not your height that mattered, but how alert your senses were and how well you survived. Sometimes her size was an advantage; a pony in winter required much less feed, and was tough enough to outlast scarcity and harsh weather.

Maerad whooped and shouted at the foals, spurring them on with her voice while dancing excitedly on the spot. Summer had been long, and a time of plenty, and she hadn't been genuinely worried or nervous for a very long time. The effect it had on her attitude was obvious; the smallest thing made her excited and enthusiastic. Canisp glanced backwards once more, and was surprised to see Fleur right up to her flanks already. The other filly caught up fast, and had longer legs. Canisp tossed her head stubbornly, and dug her heels in, trying to pull away. Coming around the fountain, she tried to cut the corner sharp but stumbled and slid, losing speed. Farther out and noticing Fleur closer and closer, she accelerated once more. But the heat of the moment made her giddy, and she couldn't help letting loose a couple bucks, enjoying herself properly. ''Catch me if you can!'' she called teasingly, ''Hurry up, slowpoke!''

[flyff]

White Dove nodded musingly. "I suspect it was hard for you as well, considering..." The mare's silvery voice drifted into silence. She wondered if the mare was... well, for want of a better term, sensitive about her size? It was entirely possible. Judging from their conversation so far, Igraine seemed a very fiery personality.

Dove sighed, tilting her head to one side. "Well, I suppose they have their uses," she said, her enormous crystal blue eyes quivering with thoughtfulness. "Although, their uses are quite crude, really. I suppose without stallions I wouldn't have Fleur." She couldn't help giving a small snort of derision. Without stallions my heart wouldn't be broken.

The three-legged filly half-squealed, half-screeched with pure elation as she soared across the lush, verdant summer grasses. She imagined that she was an eagle, winging her way across the bountiful landscape. Fleur had seen an eagle before, a beautiful, majestic creature that she secretly envied. Why was it able to ride the winds right through the sky, and she wasn't? Why couldn't she just break free, lift off the ground, and be able to drift through endless winds?

But running so fast created almost the same sensation that she imagined flying would feel like. Her breath came hard, and Maerad and Canisp's shouts echoed in her ears. She flew ahead, almost neck-to-neck with her newest friend.

[Swede]

Igraine looked up, and said sharply, ''You mean my height? You wouldn't be the first to misjudge us.'' The matriarch sighed, and seemed to deflate into the little pony she was again. ''It's not a problem, really. Canisp is confident enough, or naive enough, to get along with larger foals, and just because we are underestimated does not mean we measure down to expectations, so to speak.'' She allowed a short smile to flash across her muzzle, then nodded at the frolicking fillies and asked, ''What are your future plans? Taking her ayplace special, or just wandering?''

Canisp was surprised at the other filly's turn of speed, and dug her heels in harder. But careening through dewy grass at such hazadous speeds makes for consequences; she slipped and tumbled through the grass, sliding to a sudden and dazed stop. However, resilient as any young animal is, rather than cry and complain about injury, she was fine and started laughing instead. A fit of giggles overcame her, and she sat on the ground in completely unexplainable hysteria. Maerad frowned slightly, giving her a quizzical look, but a slow smile spread across her own face, and she chuckled lightly as well.

[Swede]

ooc:locking up, since fleur and white dove went to adoption board.