Liberated or Abandoned? (Zebra Plot)

[Zebras]

___As the sun set on the last hours of his herd's first day of freedom, Hubris could not help but feel that it was not just light slipping away, but everything they knew. In the early hours of dusk, he and his herd had been unloaded from the hot, crowded, frightening trailers that had brought them here, the last stretch of their travels strenuous from the turbulence of traveling on lands with no roads. They were not released into the corral of a new owner, nor within the paranoid confines of a zoo exhibit; the ground they'd stepped blinking and tentative onto mere hours ago knew no boundaries. The grasses stretched in a rolling expanse all around them, dotted with colorful wildflowers, noisy with buzzing insects and chirping songbirds. The distant tree line was the only approximation of a wall between them and further freedom.
___Perhaps Hubris should have been pleased by his situation, but he was not. Being alone and exposed after a life of captivity elicited a long-forgotten primal terror of the unknown. As twilight descended, so did a sense of unease among the herd. Their minds haunted them with thoughts of nocturnal tooth and fang they'd never battled from a dark continent they'd never stepped hoof on. The distant cries of coyotes in the hills and the erratic movements of swooping bats caused the mares to bunch and startle, cry terror into the fading light.
___Hubris lead the herd in name alone, uncertain of what to do in this situation, having never been put in a position where he actually had to be responsible and defend his herd. He did not react well to his nervous herdmates, kicking and biting at them angrily to quiet their unrest rather than soothing their fears. Much of his misappropriated emotion landed on Valet, the gelded hybrid frequently driven to the margins of the herd where he cried fearfully for readmittance to the safety of the herd. Where Hubris should have patrolled for predators, he only hid among the mares, offering no promise of protection from what lurked in the darkness.
___Caligin put on a tough show; the dominant mare refused to be seen as a coward no matter how her nostrils flared and the whites of her eyes showed against her peculiarly stygian pelt. She scolded the others for their nervous milling, boldly proclaimed empty threats to cave the skull of any predator that meddled in their business, and reprimanded her nervous son Epicene for being fearful instead of acting "like a real stallion." Her grandstanding was swallowed by the darkness as now stars dotted a black canvas and shadows engulfed the herd.
___Renaissance took the situation in stride despite her nervousness. A logical beast, she knew that there were endless possibilities for disaster in this new landscape: she could smell predatory beasts and other unknowns, as well as other equines that might run them off into more dangerous terrains. Still, she did her best to avoid her own instinctive terror and try to assess the situation, listening though her even her ears quivered fearfully, sniffing the air between nervous bays. They were close to running water, and this created two inexplicable and conflicting feelings in the zebra. She knew it could relieve their thirst from the long journey, yet something in her deepest instincts cautioned her of the hidden dangers lurking below the surface - a feeling she'd never had when lapping from the small, stagnant troughs in the corral. What was the meaning of this? If morning found her bolder, she would investigate.
___Neither Matron nor Blithe could make sense of the situation, but for different reasons. The elder mare did not understand why they had been abandoned; she had served a long and painful life as breeding stock, pumping out foals only to have them stolen away from her in most instances. If the humans were finished with her, why would they leave her to the cruel fate of the wild instead of simply selling her as they had many other aged mares to petting zoos and menageries? And why the entire herd? Blithe, conversely, did not understand why she sensed only fear among her herdmates. Though she too was frightened by the situation, part of her heart leapt at the thrilling prospect of exploring the new land once the tribulations of this first knight had passed. She wanted to see where the strange sounds and smells that haunted them were coming from, for surely they'd be less ominous in daylight. Among them she alone seemed to feel liberated rather than abandoned.

[RandomWiktor]

Ok, I patched it up a bit so feel free to post away ^^

[Tarmo Emigdia Flannery]

((Stygian? Now I’m imagining the mare as a Cthulhu-zebra. xD))

Tarmo took his newfound freedom little better than the other herd of zebras, but for very different reasons. Now that there were no fences between him and other stallions, how could he possibly keep his mares? Emigdia, at least, was not likely to be stolen; she had borne him foals, and it was not a zebra’s nature to steal such a female. Flannery, though – she had not been with him long enough, and once she came into heat it would be a veritable bloodbath, him against all the wild dangerous equines of this new and terrible place, not to mention the rival whose scent he recognized from the farm. He had listened reluctantly to Emigdia when she said they should stay close to the larger herd for the sake of safety, at least until tomorrow. Some relic of instinct remembered such things, many more stallions than two and all their mares in great streams across battered plains, and Tarmo let himself be convinced.

With all this worry for reproductive safety, the stallion hardly paid attention to any predatory threats; a foolish thing to do, when his white and silver coat marked him as prime prey. Indeed, the scent of foreign creatures of tooth and claw did not disturb him at all as much as the harmless marks of hoofstock; as if a mule deer would have any interest in zebra mares. He kept particularly by Flannery’s side, leaving Emigdia to her own devices; the older mare was wily and loyal, and would not go easily to another stallion, but he did not so trust the younger.

Emigdia found all of this highly frustrating, but she kept herself externally calm. Her victory in convincing Tarmo to keep close to the other herd went a long way in keeping the mare serene; between their foals and larger number, they’d draw more attention than the smaller herd. What was more, she had hoped they’d warn of any approaching danger that she may miss – seeing as she had no delusions about the usefulness of her own herd mates in that regards. But the others shifted restlessly, and were fearful at nothing at all; Emigdia quickly acclimated to their terror and no longer reacted to their cries. Although the wild frightened her, she could not help but prefer it to the corral; the space, the smells, even the dangers all resonated with her in a way the dust and hay and troughs never had.

Flannery, meanwhile, rested her chin on Tarmo’s whithers and wasn’t bothered at all by her new surroundings; her mate was paying her so much attention. Nothing, nothing at all could take away from that pleasure, even when he nipped at her irritably, even when Emigdia insisted they stay near the other herd and the other mares, some of which looked quite tempting even to Flannery. Of course, a stallion normally wouldn’t steal an established herd mare, but what if Tarmo chose to take them all? That was acceptable behavior; and there were very many mares. She would be lost among them. She shifted uncomfortably, and Tarmo nipped her once more; this time, she bit back, ears back, to prove her worth and fire in this new environment.

The next few moments were filled with the snorts and stomps of a minor quarrel; Emigdia looked over her shoulder and winced at her herd mates, not at all impressed by this behavior. How was she supposed to hear a predator’s approach with all that racket? She might like this place, but she was no fool, was not seduced by the open landscape into thinking it had no dangers. Such an incompetent stallion could tempt a mare to gravitate towards another herd, except the only other option in the area seemed just as useless as Tarmo.

[RW]

LOL! Oh man, you're right. I more meant just in the sense of "black as the river styx" with the dismal aspect to compliment her personality. But man, now I'm picturing a zebra with a tentacle face, and it is wonderful. rofl.

[ZebrasZorses]

Layla pinned back her ears fearfully. It had been quite some time since she had been in such close contact with anyone else besides Cobalt, and the zebra through the fence back at the farm. Gathering Cobalt close to her, she nipped his ear, trying to get the little foal to have a spark in life. He didn't react. Sighing, Layla swished her tail, her ears flickering up and down as she warily eyed the others.

Cobalt stood there, his head hanging and eyes drooping. He swished his tail once. Nothing came to him - not the joy of being free, not the nervousness of being around so many other animals, not the annoyance of Layla nipping him - nothing whatsoever. He shifted his feet, and swished his tail once.

Silver Spirit whinnied loudly, taking off galloping again. She sprinted around the herd twice, then, winded, stopped to breathe for a few minutes. Her ears laid back, she rolled her eyes at the nearest zebra, Maryelle. The other female nervously backed away, and Silver Spirit lifted her head, whinnying again. She bucked and then kicked back, nervous and furious.

Marine looks around, slightly nervous and agitated. She gathers Storm next to her, not trusting anyone else. Laying her ears back, she stuck her neck out to examine the nearest zebra, who happened to be Caligin.

Storm stuck near his mother, not knowing what to do. His eyes wide and fearful, he looked around at the others, his tail swishing nervously. He stuck close to Marine, craving the comfort and security she gave him.

Maryelle backed away a few feet from everyone else, about to cry out in desparation. All she knew was she had been taken away from the miserable farm early in the morning, been temporarily separated from Lillyanne, joined up with her daughter the next day and kept in a corral for a month, then put in a dark moving object, crowded on all sides by others just like her. She was understandably traumatized.

Lillyanne wasn't as frightened as Storm or Silver Spirit, but wasn't as nonresponsive as Cobalt. Pricking her ears curiously, her alert eyes scanned the herd, her nostrils flaring as she picked up unfamiliar scents. An owl hooting behind her startled Lillyanne, but she regained composure and went to stand by her mother Maryelle, who had backed away from everyone. Pushing her snout into Maryelle's fur, she comforted her mom.