Caliga } This Is Your Requiem

[Caliga]

Their lives were lost as the past dies;
Rivers of red; their strangled cries
Give not your sympathy; give me malice.
Give me envy; give me lies.

Nares flared, releasing frosted air into the frozen atmosphere. Rolling waves crashed against the shore, sweeping layers of sand with it back into the ocean's unforgiving depths. Slender palms swayed; fragile in the gentle breeze. It was cold; this night. The night was lit by a single crescent moon, rising from masses of ominous clouds. It casted sickly shadows 'pon the lone fae that traversed the sands, leaving naught but hoofprints in her wake.

Said fae stood formidable; pelt the hue of charcoal, plumes and mane cascading like a charred waterfall onto her nape. Ebon orbs narrowed for mere seconds; watching. Then in a swift movement, delicate lids snapped upwards, bringing her to full attention. Dagger-like hooves pawed the sand as her pace increased, the merciless cruch of shattering shellfish sounding beneath her feet.

Thoughts flit back and forth inside her twisted skull, each flash bringing forth hues of crimson, shades of scarlet, the spilling of vermillion. Tortured cries rang in her auds, speaking to her in melodies of excruciating pain. She released a snort of frustration as her eyes glinted in the deathly light of the moon. Why was she here?

She had no idea. Horrifying memories continued to taunt her, but it was not a conscience. It was simply a friend; an acquaintance of her years past. Elegant neck rose, and her ears twitched, seeking the sound of an approaching lord. Nothing. Power. She wanted power now, lusting after it like the most precious of gems.

She waited.

[Alex]

Storm

Once again, the stallion's stockinged legs carried his muscled body towards the claiming beach. Oh, he'd been here before, but he'd always left empty-handed. But Storm wasn't to fault, it was that there were few dark mares in this land yet to date. Perhaps tonight would be his lucky night.

He trotted through the darkness, his thick blaze and brilliant stockings rendering him highly visible in the cover of night. He scented a mare, smelling slightly like one of the dark alliance, but it was still too faint for any definate classifying. He was blatantly confident that it was a dark, though. If not, he might bring a mare of another alliance home just to torture.

He had trouble sighting the mare at first, because her ebony pelt hid her quite convieniently in the black hours. Then, a sudden, angry movement brought the mare to his attention, and he sauntered closer, dial held loftily. Now he was positive that it was a dark, for only a mare of such alliance would nip at the air and murder innocent shellfish. Although she must have seen him by now, Storm reared, ears pinned flat against his skull.

Mare, he spat as his pillars touched sand. He said no more; the single word would be his only greeting. Inside, he was becoming excited at the prospect at finally having a mare to accompany him in his lands, but outside, he was emotionless. It didn't cross his mind for a moment that she would refuse to come with him, because, after all, he was the Dark King. What decent mare didn't want a little power?