on a sinking ship ; maya

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MORDECAI.

so dull, he couldn't have found a more boring place. just gray and black and neutral colors. the cold didn't help him like the place very much either, and the hazy drizzle falling on him just made him dislike it even more. he was already thoroughly chilled to the bone. the rain made the rocks wet and slippery, he could barely get a good foothold on the little slope. water dripped from his curled horns, slightly yellow hued but still matching his pristine white pelt. well, it wasn't very pretty now, being soaked nearly to the core and all.

he stood out considerably in the drab land. not just his white coat, but his build as well. he barely made eighteen hands, smaller in comparison to other studs in the north that easily cleared twenty. he was also clearly not a heavy draft horses. built more like a warmblood, he wasn't anything like the polic or gorg species. either could easily beat him out in size and strength. but, mordecai prided himself in his craftiness. he could easily talk himself out of any sticky situation and, when worse can to pass, he could just stick the other horse in some dreamland with palm trees and pixies and saunter off. he wasn't keen on dirtying his coat with the trifles of battle and blood.

steam erupted from his nostrils as he trudged forward, slipping slightly on a rock and gritted his teeth as he finally gained a flat surface to rest on. this was degrading, trudging around in the cold and wet like some turned-out mongrel. it put him in a foul mood, unlikely to be kind to any strangers that might cross his path. he'd try his best, but his tolerance level and patience were worn down considerably.

ooc: ugh sucks, sorry x3

[Maya]

Azaria

A little bit of [ h e a v e n ] with a wild side[/center]

Overcast clouds hung in the sky, looming with an omniscient presence. Rain pattered onto the ground in a nearly torrential way before switching over a moderate sprinkle. The drops stained the mare’s dapple gray coat, turning it into a darker hue. Water droplets dripped from her black butterfly wings, rendering her unable to take flight. Her mane clung uncomfortably to her feminine toned neck and her tail had somehow managed to wrap itself around her hind leg. She snorted irritably as she stepped forwards, feeling the tail around her leg move with her. Her ears flicked backwards to show her displeasure before she finally huffed. Stomping a fore hoof into the ground, she felt a splash of mud collide with her coat. She arched her neck, spotting the dark brown splatters upon her leg before glaring at it with multi-colored eyes. Heterochromia claimed eyes peered at the soaked ground beneath her hooves before a broad smirk caressed her features. Without hesitation, the medium built Northerner dropped to her knees and rested on her side. With a heave of her body, she rolled in the mud, allowing it stain her body at its own will.

The 15.1 hand high mare rose to her hooves once more, grinning contentedly with herself. Although this was odd action for the mare, Azaria’s mind had conjured up some strange idea that if she looked like a mud monster, no stallion in their right mind would claim her. Even if they did, regardless of some of them boasting their twenty-something height, she’d tell them off. If they were dumber than a pile of rocks, which some of them were, and somehow managed to bring her to their lands, she’d make their life a living hell. She was sure that she’d give HellBorn a run for his money but she had yet to come across the stallion who owned the North. Perhaps it was for the better that she hadn’t for the fire behind those dual colored eyes could rival the flames of an inferno. She smiled to herself with a nod, trotting with ease towards no particular destination.

It was odd that Azaria found herself here, in the claiming grounds no less. It was like she was daring any foul stallion to come get her and to test their luck at taming the feisty mare. Many had tried and all had failed. She was a handful, rebellious and somehow they all still flocked to her like the idiots they were. She assumed they wanted a challenge but it was often a battle that she rose as victor. Out of the corner of her light blue and deep sienna colored eye, she spotted a disgruntled white stallion. She smiled openly, approaching him with ease. “Correct me if I’m wrong, lad, but you look like you’re having the time of your life,” charming, Irish brogue traipsed through her sarcasm-laden vocals, gazing up at him slightly to gauge his reaction.

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his quicksilver eyes darted in the direction of the feminine lyrics, obviously directed at him since he was the only other soul around to receive them, but he didn't much appreciate the title of "lad" from this mare. he glanced over her, and for a moment thought she was brown, but then saw the graying patches of mottled blacks and whites. and it took him a moment to realize...she was covered in mud. what was a probably a pretty gray dapple lady under that layer of muck had willing covered herself in...mud. his head flipped up, his wet black mane smacking the side of his neck as it came to a stop. his dark hooves carried him a few steps away from the mare and the mud.

she honestly hadn't surprised him. even if she had been the king of the north himself he wouldn't have bothered with being shocked. it was just...the dirt. the grime, the muck, he couldn't stand it. he didn't want her anywhere near him as long as that slime covered her. and if she got some on his snowy coat...not, he couldn't even imagine it. it was too vulgar a thought. clearing his throat and getting over his initial reaction to...her, mordecai attempted not to sound disgusted at this mare. "not as much as you, my lady." he said as politely as he could, though it still sounded forced. what mare in their right mind would choose this? not very civilized, that was for sure.

he did try not to stare, but the rain, no matter how light, still had an affect on the mud plastered to her hide. ever so slowly it revealed more of her pretty dappled hide, sliding of the short fur and leaving brown smudges in its wake. it nearly made him sick. he forced himself to watch the rock, taking deep breaths through his mouth so he didn't have to smell the wet earthy scent that clung to her. of course, everything was wet, and though he like the smell of rain, the smell of wet horse wasn't very pretty.

"so, might i be graced with your name, dear heart?" he said, trying to calm himself with a little small talk. ugh, once it stopped raining the mud would dry and crust and it would just be so uncomfortable and it would start to chip and crumble and get everywhere and ew no stop thinking about it.