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Description
Its been days.

Duke got there just in time. Right when the vulture circled, when the scream of horses rose into the western sun within the bark of dogs. Saved them, they said. Fought like something possessed. Couldn't deny that, the viciousness of which he kicked and bit was second to none, and by the time the dust settled the whole herd rushed to his side. An appaloosa, a paint, a roan, and the grey stallion. All nosing and nuzzling and laughing with relief. There was concern for his wounds, and yes - he even limped with each step. Garnet streaks spattering the dust. But enough about him, what of them? Were they hurt? Lost?

Just like that, he was in. Trusted. Safe from the trials and tribulations of the life of a lone mustang, of the dark nights in the cold. He told them stories, Duke did - stories of how he shivered beneath the stars. How long he'd been alone, how hard it had been. In turn, they told him their names - Viye, Usha, Starling - but he never caught the name of the stallion. Just kept calling him Pretty Boy. A stallion he was, alright, but Duke knew this place fine. He knew the canyons. And thus, they followed his hollow hoofprints through the baking heat. Through wind carved alleys and stark cliffs, to the areas just shaded enough for forage. To be honest, there was plenty of food in the canyon. Plenty of water, too, if you knew where to look. Yet Duke walked. He lead. One more corner, one more scent on the breeze. Just up ahead. Just out of sight, he lead them past unseen green grasses and pools of glassy water.

And so, he kicked up dust with his breath, head hung low. He knew where the water was. The food, the shade, the shelter. But he did not take them there, no matter the haze of days hiking in the heat. Even as his eyes lolled with dehydration and his legs threatened to buckle, he knew the rest were worse off. Parched mouths, cotton-nostrils and boiling in their sweat. Starling, the sweet roan who looked at him moon-eyed one too many times, assured that without Duke - they'd all be lead astray by now. Little did she know, as Duke slowed to a stop, that he was drinking his fill of the only muddy puddle for miles. A spring he knew could not hold enough for all of them. With water dripping from his chin, Duke watched as the mares filed in and drank one by one. Concern growing, voices snipping, until teeth snapped. The herd's stallion was exhausted by miles of travel, and his voice could not carry for all the paces he had lagged behind. By the time the stallion reached the water, it was drunk dry - and his family at each others' throats.

Duke was gone. Fleeting, like the violet shadow of a hawk. Gone was he, and gone was Starling, stolen away with promises of water and food. After all, he found this, right? And to his credit, these promises he made good on. The further they ran from the herd, the more food and water they found. As many platitudes as he cooed about the fight to her, how right she was, he never really did speak his truth. Duke was remorseless to the last. He hoped to find their bones there this time next year. After all, to Duke, no self-respecting mustang should rely on another for survival. Not herdmates, not strangers, nobody. Only the strong survive. And today? Starling was strong enough to survive Duke, and she will surely be strong enough to survive his oncoming disappearance.

There's more herds to harrow, and he cannot be toil in the comfort of company. In his wake, a large black bird soars in the sky. An omen.

Stallion ID: Duke#107-2
In response to: E-Canyon, E-Herd Mixup #109, E-Windy Day, Drink From Pool
Art features: Duke#107-2, Starling P(0/3) #109,
Story features: Duke#107-2 , Starling P(0/3) #109, Pretty Boy i(0/2) S(0/1) #109, Usha MS(0/3) #109, Viye #109
Word Count: 646
Healing: N/A
Items Used: Peanut Wood1x, Maple Woodx1
Companion Animals: No Companions
Members that own outside horses: @EarthDragon425 #109 (Starling, Pretty Boy, Viye, Usha)
Bachelor Herd: Yes
Collab: No

Rolls: Normal Rolls

Description
Its been days.

Duke got there just in time. Right when the vulture circled, when the scream of horses rose into the western sun within the bark of dogs. Saved them, they said. Fought like something possessed. Couldn't deny that, the viciousness of which he kicked and bit was second to none, and by the time the dust settled the whole herd rushed to his side. An appaloosa, a paint, a roan, and the grey stallion. All nosing and nuzzling and laughing with relief. There was concern for his wounds, and yes - he even limped with each step. Garnet streaks spattering the dust. But enough about him, what of them? Were they hurt? Lost?

Just like that, he was in. Trusted. Safe from the trials and tribulations of the life of a lone mustang, of the dark nights in the cold. He told them stories, Duke did - stories of how he shivered beneath the stars. How long he'd been alone, how hard it had been. In turn, they told him their names - Viye, Usha, Starling - but he never caught the name of the stallion. Just kept calling him Pretty Boy. A stallion he was, alright, but Duke knew this place fine. He knew the canyons. And thus, they followed his hollow hoofprints through the baking heat. Through wind carved alleys and stark cliffs, to the areas just shaded enough for forage. To be honest, there was plenty of food in the canyon. Plenty of water, too, if you knew where to look. Yet Duke walked. He lead. One more corner, one more scent on the breeze. Just up ahead. Just out of sight, he lead them past unseen green grasses and pools of glassy water.

And so, he kicked up dust with his breath, head hung low. He knew where the water was. The food, the shade, the shelter. But he did not take them there, no matter the haze of days hiking in the heat. Even as his eyes lolled with dehydration and his legs threatened to buckle, he knew the rest were worse off. Parched mouths, cotton-nostrils and boiling in their sweat. Starling, the sweet roan who looked at him moon-eyed one too many times, assured that without Duke - they'd all be lead astray by now. Little did she know, as Duke slowed to a stop, that he was drinking his fill of the only muddy puddle for miles. A spring he knew could not hold enough for all of them. With water dripping from his chin, Duke watched as the mares filed in and drank one by one. Concern growing, voices snipping, until teeth snapped. The herd's stallion was exhausted by miles of travel, and his voice could not carry for all the paces he had lagged behind. By the time the stallion reached the water, it was drunk dry - and his family at each others' throats.

Duke was gone. Fleeting, like the violet shadow of a hawk. Gone was he, and gone was Starling, stolen away with promises of water and food. After all, he found this, right? And to his credit, these promises he made good on. The further they ran from the herd, the more food and water they found. As many platitudes as he cooed about the fight to her, how right she was, he never really did speak his truth. Duke was remorseless to the last. He hoped to find their bones there this time next year. After all, to Duke, no self-respecting mustang should rely on another for survival. Not herdmates, not strangers, nobody. Only the strong survive. And today? Starling was strong enough to survive Duke, and she will surely be strong enough to survive his oncoming disappearance.

There's more herds to harrow, and he cannot be toil in the comfort of company. In his wake, a large black bird soars in the sky. An omen.

Stallion ID: Duke#107-2
In response to: E-Canyon, E-Herd Mixup #109, E-Windy Day, Drink From Pool
Art features: Duke#107-2, Starling P(0/3) #109,
Story features: Duke#107-2 , Starling P(0/3) #109, Pretty Boy i(0/2) S(0/1) #109, Usha MS(0/3) #109, Viye #109
Word Count: 646
Healing: N/A
Items Used: Peanut Wood1x, Maple Woodx1
Companion Animals: No Companions
Members that own outside horses: @EarthDragon425 #109 (Starling, Pretty Boy, Viye, Usha)
Bachelor Herd: Yes
Collab: No

Rolls: Normal Rolls