the albino brute was bored he walked to the fence and he nicekred out well rather boomed with his deep voice to anyone around him. Backing away a few paces he measureed the fence in his mind and began to canter to it with the last second he collected himself and cleared the fence with space to spare. Pulling to a halt he looked back proud of himself he loved to jump. He didn't wonder off he began to poke about the house his curisty getting the best of him plus what the female said as she left played inhis mind. she needed him and he needed her so he wasn't leaving just nosying about.

Conan came back from a night of searching, tired but not giving up yet. As he rounded the curve to the fenced-in run, he was surprised to see that Inferno was not in the enclosure, but curiously looking around the house. Moving always slowly, he moved to check the gate. Locked. A small smile fell on his face as he opened the gate to go inside to straighten stalls and such. So. Inferno was a jumper. He hummed to himself as he lay down new hay, ignoring the horse steadfastly. He knew that Inferno didn't trust him, and no amount of forcing could make the stallion like him any sooner than right when he was ready to.

Moving out of the barn, he pulled the drain out of the trough and let the water drain out, replacing it with fresh water. Finally, he left a few cubes of sugar in the feed bucket, a little surprise for the stallion. The he climbed up into the hayloft, curled into a ball under a mound of hay, and drifted to sleep.

The young woman appeared as if a ghost, slipping silently through the night. Seeing Inferno outside of the enclosure but going no where she smiled, a warming sight. Softly she whispered to her wild stallion, trying to draw him close to her small form. Softly she sang beneath her breath "Telling Laylas Story spoken. About how all her bones are broken. Hammers fall on all the pieces. Two months in the cover creases. Fully alive more then most starting to smile, and love Fully alive and she knows how to believe ion futures. All my complaints turn to nothing. I'm afraid of all my somethings. Shes good for one day of comfort. Only because she has suffered." She drew a small treat out of her pocket and whistled once more just as softly to her stallion of abalone.

Devour the Dead

A shrill whistle called to the boy above the loft as the black egyptian arabian raced to the home she had once known. She let out another piercing scream calling to Conan and reared high as her mighty body allowed, wary of the massive stallion that was easing his curiosity. She was not of heat so was of very little use to the stallion....For now at least.

The boy was twitching in a horrible nightmare, rustling the hay in the loft as he struggled to escape an invisible foe. Ammit's whistle became part of his nightmare: a train. The red-head boy let out a shriek that was a little muffled from the hay and sat up straight, eyes wild. It took him a few, panting moments to realize that he was in the hay loft, safe. Then two sounds hit him simulataneously: a soft singing... and the high scream of a horse calling.

He hurtled out of the hay loft, landing at a run and heading to the barn door where he froze, a broad smile on his face as the most beautiful sight on earth came to his eyes: Ammit.

Putting two fingers to his lips, he returned her whistle, his voice exuding happiness as he called her name. Ammit!

Her ears pricked forth at tthe sound of her master and she let out a whinny and charged towards him tail high neck arched. She stopped and snorted bobbing her head up and down proud of herself for finding her friend. She let out a soft whicker and placed her head over his shoulder and stood comfortably, happy that she was home again.

the sweet singing brought the brute's head up from inspecting a flower pot which he had turned over the black dirt coating his abalone nose he seemed so delighted at the female's pressence the wildness vanished and he trotted over to her as the scream of another entered his nares he moved to block her female from the equine though seeing it rush to the male he relaxed and took the treat from his girl resting his chin on her should as he sighed he liked he here there were no whips no beatings and he was free to be wild when he wanted.

His face lit as she came right up to him, his hands traveling up to bury themselves in her mane, murmuring softly. Ammit... that dark, evil thing didn't get ya. His recent meet-up with Doyle had shaken him badly, and he was so glad that the foul man hadn't captured his lovely mare.

And he returned to that song, his Yorkshireian accent coming back with it.

Come along love,
Come fly away, fly love
Come along, fly away home.
Come along, love
You've come a long way
You've flown all the day
Fly away home...

A sudden urge suddenly came over Aralyn. She reached up the stallions mane and jumped as high as she could, sitting atop the stallions back. She held tightly to his mane knowing what she was doing was borderline suicidal. She sang softly to the stallion half hoping he would bolt half hoping he wouldnt. "Hold me now I need to feel relief
Like I never wanted anything
I suppose I'll let this go and find a reason I'll hold on to
I'm so ashamed of defeat
And I'm out of reason to believe in me
I'm out of trying to get by

I'm so afraid of the gift you give me
I don't belong here and I'm not well
I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living
Right on the wrong side of it all"

The song was gentle and easy. She wanted to not be bucked off. Smart girl.

Ammit gazed all about herself with wide intelligent eyes. Seeing the woman mount Inferno she snorted. She pawed the earth and wished suddenly to race the massive stallion. With Conan astride her. She was miniature compared to him but she had a quick flowing gait that would aid her in the race.

He smiled, seeing her watch the other two with a fire in her eyes. Ah, my girl wants a run, does she? Well, lesse what we can do 'bout tha'. And he placed one hand just above her withers and the other above her hocks as he gave a mighty push off the ground. Though he hadn't near as far to go as Aralyn, Conan suddenly sat atop her back, grasping her mane in a gentle hold. He called to Aralyn in a voice that was just loud enough to carry to her, so as not to frighten the horses. Oy, Aralyn! Methinks our lass here wants a run. What say you? Join us?

As he spoke he pulled his fingers deftly through Ammit's mane, absent-mindedly removing the small tangles that infested the manes of even the best when in the wild. He'd make sure she got a nice rubdown later, but for now she was antsy; she craved a good run.

A smile crept across the young womans mouth and she nodded. She knew that her mount was untrained and as wild as they came but she suddenly had a new idea. "How bout I race Psyche against her? I dont think I will be able to stop him once her starts" and with that she slid down the stallions side petting him as she did. She gave a soft whistle and called her mare to her. Psyche halted and stood patiently for Aralyn to mount ready to run. As Aralyn was only half way on, the mare began to walk towards Conan but Aralyn did not pull her back. Pulling next to the two she said softly "to the prarie we go for a race." With that she trotted away not wishing to race on this rough terrain.

Ammit snorted and lurched forward suddenly, her powerful hind quarters pushing hard against the solid ground. She pulled ahead of Psyche and took off at a run, wasting all of her pent up energy.

The boy laughed a little at his mare, letting her continue with her mad gallop for a few minutes before smiling and pulling ever so gently on her mane to slow her just a bit. This would hopefully slow her to a lively trot that would not frustrate her, but not tire her. There now, how you spose ta' win a race if ya races all tha way there, eh? Save tha speed for tha race, love.