[size=7]Taran
There Were Wires Crossed Somewhere In His Soul



Nares flared, drinking in all the scents the world had to offer him.It was quiet here, rather tranquil, even for a restless soul like himself.In the air swam the scent of others however, and Taran knew he was not alone.It did not take long for the brujo to come across the pair, a dun filla curled up, looking rather alone, and a mare staring at her bright eyed.So, he'd had the chance to come across a mare and her filly.He knew imidiatly the escape was inevitable for the pair, for no filly could outrun him, and no whimpering mare would dare leave her child behind, at least not a light.They were far to soft for thier own good.For example, if this little fae simply left the side of the filly and ran, she might just get away.Then again, Taran could always break one of the fillas legs and then go after the mother.She certainly wouldn't go walking off then, that was for sure.

He paused breifly before the muscle beneath hisc oat flexed, and he continued foreward.His large pistons landed heavily upon the ground, white feathers splaying out with each step.For one of draft blood he was built rather lean, though rock hard muscle clung beneath his pelt everywhere.He was crossed with warmblood and thoroughbred, and though he was clearly not as fast as either of those breeds, his stamina was considerably amazing.He could run for miles withouth breaking a sweat, and had often chased down mares and caught them from simply letting them ware themselves out.

With swift, bold strides Taran aproached the couple, his boa drawing his crown up high.Taran was a Leader, a ruler of terra and other horses that held various ranks.He ws not some simple stud wandering about, not sure of what to do.He was an authorative figure, one to be respected, and he would make sure all knew this.

"Speak your name mare, and that of your filly."

OOC- Im so sorry i forgot about this thread.




Taran snorted with disgust as the two faes spat thier meaningless words to him, and with a flick of his lashing whipcords, he shugged them off as if they had never even spoken.The filly was especually pethetic to think her feeble words would simply chase him away, and with a viscious pawing at the earth, he made it known he would be going nowhere.Pearls flashed in distaste as the older of the two swore her protection, as if she could stop him if he came at them.Fait had already decided that they were his, for no horse Taran confronted ever got away, and these two would be no different.

"Go ahead, spit your lies to the little fool, I don't care. You know as well as I there's nothing you can do.

With a feral snarl the bronc circled the pair, every muscle beneath his pelt warning them that this was no game, and thier lives could very well end.With unnatural speed for a draft mutt, Taran came barrelling into the pair.He angled his weight to knock the filly off her feet, and hopefully stun her.He didn't want to chase after her, but if hehad to track her down, he'd cacth up quickly with his larger srides, and her consequences would be even worse.

His forelegs swung out at the smaller mare, thier size difference amazing.He did not want this 'Desert Dancer', and whomever found her mangled body could have her.That foal however, she would be punished for her rebellion.As his daggers came crashing down aimed at her rib cage and flanks, he allowed his weight to fall foreward, and his ivories snaped at her nape, hoping to get a firm grasp so he could hammer into her with his knees.