Wild Berry Meadow Dulce Laborum

Horse hunt! No pressure to join, but AW to members of Akh & the wild horses! Tagging those who might be interested @Zaahira @Gucci @Cornelius @Legend @Myrmidon @Inaros @Drusk

Over the wind-shorn fields of gold stood Rashepses. His silken black fur was glistening with lotus oil and tangled into the long mane were slick papyrus umbels. Where once the king had taken great pleasure in little more than sprawling languorously in the sun, now he found his mind sharpened into a new arrowhead of resolve.

With a passionate kiss for his wife and promise to return to her swiftly, semer-wati gathered with him a group of huntsmen and started upon the trail of horse he’d been tracking for many sennight.

“The heart of a mustang will make Pharaoh’s sons strong and quick and give to them courage,” he spoke as the party carried out into the fields, prey scent riding low on a dry wind.

!!!

how soon will she give birth, do you think? one taupe forepaw brushes against the jodai's forehead, sweeping away dust and the beading of moisture. her gaze rests upon the gold-flecked shoulders of rashepses, the imperious way in which he carried himself. the months had made her grow used to his presence, perhaps, in some way, even respectfully fond of him — but that did not keep him from getting on her nerves at times.
such as now. everything was theatrical with him! could he not simply hunt without having to dress up and prance around? he took longer to put on makeup than his wife.
but there was genuine interest in the wellbeing of pharaoh's children for zaahira. she wonders silently if any daughters will come from her, and if they will inherit their mother's pure soul.

all still welcome!

“Soon,” rumbled a low note over the chorus of parting grass. His face was a shadowed mask, yet beneath the blackened fur semer-wati’s lips curved with pride. His wife had dreamed of gilded faces and heard the thunder of their pawsteps; fierce as the storm and swift as the wind his godlings would be.

He turned to Zaahira, tolerated for her close devotion to Toula. “Akashingo requires your diligence, jodai, should more long-dead kin slither out of the weeds in erroneous demand of the throne.” Threats would continue to mount as soon Pharaoh’s heirs were born to the red serpent, and it was the sandstone woman who would safeguard their keep.

The king stalked attentively as the procession slipped on through the dry grass.

wolves on the wind once more, their scents laced with pleasantries unnatural.

selenia reached to gently tug silverbirch's little mane, urging the frisking filly into a silent stand.

her ears flicked toward @Fancy, mouth tensing into a hard line. wolves were everywhere. and here in the meadow, they were exposed.

she looked for the shapes on the horizon, nostrils flaring.

Fancy’s nostrils flared. Head lifted and ears pricked, she read the wind for more information- direction, numbers, anything that would need to know in order to keep away from the meat-eating beasts. Once she processed the information, she snorted and flattened her ears, moving toward the others with a pronounced bob of her head with every step. 

They’re on the hunt, She said. She brought her gaze to Selenia. You’re my Second-in-Command, She announced, her voice grave. We need to put some distance between us and them, but it ain’t gonna be easy. 

She caught a shudder of movement in the corner of her eye; Cedar shook out her mane and licked her lips, nervous. 

We keep together. Keep Silverbirch between you, no matter what. I’ll fend off any strikers that try to split us up. If they come down the center, pivot and keep your heels up. Now let’s move, She said with a thrust of her head, urging the small band to move away from the gathering wolves.

Something exciting was finally happening. 

Morbidly curious, Silverbirch watched the horizon alongside her mother, fearless now having lived her first few months in peace. She squealed sharply when Fancy snorted and moved past her mother’s flank when the lead mate began barking orders. Tucking her head low, she mouthed silently, mocking the sorrel’s words out of sight before she came around to her mother’s hip again, expression pleasant. 

She looked to her mother, and then to Cedar, just in time to see how the bay shuddered. The gravity of the situation dawned on her, and instinct urged her to obey. 

Mom? She asked quietly, the first hint of real fear seeping into her high voice.

Zaahira is welcome to jump in at any point, gonna keep this one moving! Horses welcome to pp the squad/Ra as needed

He stilled their party with a snap of an ear. Months of tracking and at last the hoofed beasts grazed in Semer-wati’s eyes, tails cracking like whips in the air and taut muscles edged in golden light, gleaming like lures. Three mares and a foal. There was no stallion to guard them. Rashepses eyed their gaits for lameness.

The filly would be quick to eliminate, but a kicking mother would give them more trouble than she’s worth. They would not catch the mares on the straights. He looked instead for ways to slow them. “Drive them into the trees,” the king commanded his squadron and broke into a lope.

The hunt spun out across the flatland.

Rashepses concentrated all his attention on the nearest mare. He ignored the mother and younger animal that breached within his party’s attack range and followed his mare through her contortions, letting up when she kicked and recouping with a snap of his jaws in the air, drawing inexorably closer.

Legend wriggled behind like a wildcat, and dropped to the floor like a fly when the king commanded with an ear. Her hips twitched on the ground, tail lashed about, and ears pinned back when they weren't threatening to be a giveaway. 

Bloodshed could be her shiny trinket on a good day, but today, her wild eyes locked on the god-beasts. They were twisted things—deformed muzzles, sickly noses, shriveled ears like dried fruit, and paws that clicked with every step. Their tails hung like shredded strings, barely clinging.

She wanted to go play with it! She wanted to go play with it! She wanted to see them now, now, now, now, NOW!

The command snapped and the devil was released from her cage. Legend shot forward with a snicker, veering left, eager to gear the towering mare towards the treeline. It could kill her! Oh, it could kill her! She liked that! She liked that! Fun! Fun!

"shh, silverbirch," selenia murmured, though her voice became a low whicker to soothe her filly. 

they were targeting cedar, she saw with alarm, but as the lithe bodies of the hunters raced beyond, selenia's ears pinned and she poised a hoof to strike.

fancy was guardian, wolf's-teeth reaching for cedar even as selenia neighed a ringing alarm and drove silverbirch sideways, away from the intended fray.

The wolves came, teeth glinting and mouths hungry. She did not want for the herd to flee, but to prove itself too tight to crack. 

But the herd had a weak point- and Cedar had been singled out by the first wolf to attack. The bay mare squealed in fear, and with Silverbirch pushed out of the way, Fancy moved in and with one ear flicked sideways, she honed in on the next wolf who snapped for one of the bay’s ankles. 

Fancy wheeled in a sudden charge, stomping her forehooves in a series of potentially deadly strikes, before she pivoted and sent both feet flying, aiming for the brazen wolf, before she nipped Cedar’s flank and moved forward to Silverbirch’s unprotected side. 

”Let your hooves fly! Let Equus lend us his strength and agility! Let Jehanna call for all us of another day!” She cried out, hoping to buoy the spirits of the others.

"Mommm!" She whickered in a soft, trembling voice as her mother spoke her name. She was pushed aside and away from harm, and it was then that she got her first real, terrifying view of the wolves. 

There was a smell that came from them that caused her withers to shake. Musky, meaty, and foul. She uttered a small, high-pitched squeal again and clambored to be close to her mother's side. Her coat began to darken with sweat, and whale-eyed, she looked this way and that, frightened she might see one come and lunge for her. 

It wasn't teeth that came for her, but Fancy's red flank that came to push her closer to her mother, and bar the wolves from her view. She watched between striking, flying hooves for any sign of them, and began to strike out as well. Wedged between red and buckskin, she pivoted and turned with them, learning to mimic their motions and strike out at random intervals with her hind feet, and dash the narrow space before her with her front hooves.

She only caught glances of Cedar, the bay, occasionally. She learned then what true terror looked like, marked on the injured mare's face with the deepening of pockets above and behind each white-rimmed eye, the flash of yellowed teeth in a mouth opened to scream.

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Furious screams rend the air, even the colt sang it’s mortal anguish, but most terrible was the roar that issued from the tortured throat of his mare as he drove her from the herd into the bramblewood. He signaled the hunt to abandon the others and round upon the bay.

By now she was towing streams of blood from snaps to her flank and the woods were streaking with red, all the while Rashepses coursed closely, taking in lungfuls of sweaty flesh that adrenalized instinct. She bucked and cut with her hooves, stamping and braying to ward off the wolves. He ducked and swept to the side, anticipating wild rushes, yet still the jackal was caught beneath a flying hoof, delivering a deep slice to his shoulder. His own blood spilled out onto the earth but in a heightened state it did nothing to impede the riverking. In their jaws the mare’s hinds were captured by the hunt, slowing her gallop to a frenzied trot and opening up a moment to seize her.

She threw up her great head to shriek, at the same time Rashepses lunged, enclosing her throat in his jaws in the same fleeting instant. Her deathrattle was dreadful, shimmering music to his ears. She hissed still in fight while the king held his grip, tearing through muscle into ruptured arteries. Blood was sent spraying from his bite, and as she crashed headlong into the trees, the mazoi converged on the jerking body.

Legend was, of course, a bitch to hunt with and didn't actually do anything but make Rashepses look good.

Never actually landing bites, the jackdaw would jump away and snip the air with her teeth. She'd fall and then get back, get close and then slip away with a tucked tail. Coyote-like barks, feral whines, and then only lunged forward when the mare was sputtering with blood and trembling into the trees.

Only to look productive did the yaret quickly take hold of a leg and sink all teeth in. When the mazoi rioted a hell on the mare, the woman blended in to take credit unearned for the final blows. One kick, and it would be lights out for the mink. Sneaky, sneaky mink!