#he11mare

【𐂃】 ❝ N' theeeeeen... THEY KISSED! ❞

starter for @he11mare

.

How did this happen? It was just supposed to be a quick sort of trail ride, A few minutes sat atop a horse in an attempt to get over her fears.

Now here she was, separated from the motherly imp that dragged her to wrath and trapped in some random canyon with her leg under a boulder, the horse she had been sat atop also stuck with its own leg under rubble just on the opposing side of the canyon pocket.

The hulking mass of swirling orange and a few flecks of red snorted and panted heavily, it should've been squealing in distress shouldn't it?

She attempted to sit up, hissing in pain as she felt the aching in her leg and as her head throbbed from where she had hit it while falling down from the trail ledge in the canyon, when she managed to prop herself up, she saw where the equine she'd been borrowing was trapped just a ways from her.

She also noticed a second horse, one with purples and blues, hovering with concern around the larger orange beast, it seemed its presence was at least keeping the larger horse relatively calm.

A wild horse. Even more unpredictable then tamed horses, wonderful..

If she made it out of this she wasn't stepping foot near wrath ever again.

"my phone- where is-"

She could call for help, have a team sent to find her and help her and the horse, give them whatever medical- and it's on the other side of the canyon with the horses..

Well shi-

.

.

"C'mere, sweetheart..."

Striker had heard of sightings of a wild (possibly escaped) mare in the area for the past few days.

So far, nobody had been able to catch her, and those who had succeeded in getting close were rarer than a snowflake in the middle of September. Stiker was nothing if not overconfident, but even he hadn't been expecting to manage to get anywhere with the hellhorse. He doubted he'd even see her.

It was one evening while camping out in an abandoned shed that his own horse, waiting at the post outside, alerted him to the presence of the mare that was standing many yards out in the field.

Purple mane. Blue markings.

The lonesome equine matched the description given to the slippery mare by everyone who had seen her.

Striker had wiped a speck of sand off his face and gathered a line of rope from off the ground, slinging it over his shoulder. A carrot that was meant for his own horse wouldn't hurt to bring, either— just to lure her over.

He'd made it almost three quarters of the way to her before he stopped and made a show of the food, trying with all his effort to look as small and inviting as he could. Not his usual area of work.

The wild animal stretches her head over the gate of the cannibal's garden and takes a sniff at her deadrangeas. What unusual flowers! The Wrath Ring had nothing quite like these. Distress lifts her upper lip to poke at the bunches flowers, before opening her mouth. Susan would see that the hellmare's maw was filled with sharp and pointed teach much like her own. Without further hesitation the horse tears a branch off from the decorative bush.

Susan was stepping out from under the garden arch when she saw large creature craning its head over her iron wrought gate, lips stretched towards her deadrangeas, "Oh, no you don't!" She growled, hiking up her dress with her hands and started to stride towards the beast with her cane in her hand. "Out! Out! Those are NOT for you! I don't even let Bombproof rest his snout in those, and that includes YOU! Shoo!!!!" She huffed slamming down her cane on the bush's branches and out of the hellmare's reach. "Off with you! Where is your rider?! Go find something else to nibble on!" Shaking her skirt at the equine, to get it to leave. Then again... RUSTLE! SNAP!

@he11mare

The hellhorse lowered her head and greedily licked her lips at the queef… what a tasty looking morsel. Winter was upon the Rings of Hell and prey was scarce. Who was she to question a plump free meal?

From a distance the hellhound could hear an unusual squeal and the clattering of hooves. Upon turning around they would be shocked to see an unfamiliar hellhorse galloping straight towards them.

Even though the hound did not recognize the horse, this did not stop the mare from bounding towards them. Her ears pricked forward in a friendly manner. She was thrilled to see another hound, and even if this hound looked different, perhaps they knew her old friend.

When she was close enough, her hooves scraped and skidded to a halt, just inches from the hound. With a playful snort and shake of her head she skips around the hellhound, as if inviting them to play. If they were to take a closer look, they would see that the horse branded with an unusual sigil and a name that read: Distress

UNPROMPTED / Always Accepting

It felt good sometimes, to skirt the edges of a noisy and boisterous place. It felt even better after a long day's work, a few drags from a cigarette and the idea of sleep. And yet, Aerwyn couldn't find it in herself to head home just yet. The thought of closing herself off in her apartment felt strangely unwelcome. It should have felt liberating, comforting.

She was about to make the slow trek back when a sound caught her attention. Ears twitch, the sound of an approach like thunder in her skull. Aerwyn would have normally felt threatened with a lack of space between herself and someone, or something, unfamiliar. For a moment, her ears fold, tail curling defensively around her legs. They may as well be nose-to-nose with the hellmare. Odder yet was the playfulness presented to her. She turns on the spot, following the light skipping of the horse's movements and listens to the snorting with a curious tilt of head. Slowly, tension bleeds from her frame. A ghostly smile curls around her muzzle.

Mimicking the movements of the hellmare, Aerwyn keeps her own steps light and springy, ears erect and frontward facing. Her tail gives a slow and welcoming wag. It felt like a strange dance without music. Silver eyes slip towards the sigil, fixating on it before her gaze flits back to meet the mare's.