&& this is where my demons hide (open)

[Silver]

Angelus

It was in this that he was born. His blood thrummed with the echoes of the great leaders that had spawned his parents and grand-parents. His legacy was written upon his black coat. As he galloped across the landscape that held little in the way of oasis or foliage, the sunlight was absorbed by the inkiness of his eyes and his body. Light seemed not to reflect, but rather be breathed in by the color. Muscles rippled along his young body, and his mane, longer than the average five year old stallions’, waved like a banner behind him. His hooves created a drum beat on the sand, a throbbing rhythm that resonated within his heart. Nothing could catch this beast, this piece of the night that escaped to exist during the sunlit hours as well as the hours of the moon. He was untouchable.

The sun blazed in the sky, touching the sand and turning it gold. A warm breeze fluttered through the dunes, creating tiny whirlwinds of shimmers and glints. He was a thing of beauty, rocketing across a landscape that could take one’s breath away if they could survive the heat and the parched feeling that creeped across each being that was not native to the desert.

I am everything you said I would be, mother, he thought. And one day this land will be mine. It is mine by right and those who hold power at this time will one day bow to me. That is how it was, and how it will be once again.

To anyone that knew the history of this land, his ancestors were no secret. Cancer, once the great lord of the plains, had made a name for himself both through his cunning and charisma as well as his apparent insanity. Yet the way that mares had flocked to him was something that Angelus coveted. His mother had often told him that he was very much like his great grand-sire, except for the madness of course. He liked to believe that he was in some ways a greater version of Cancer, more pure and calculating, cleverer in most respects. Yet when he let his heart control his decisions, a hint of cold unpredictability would glint in his black eyes.

His chest heaving with the strain of the distance, Angelus slowed his pace to a lazy walk. His nostrils flared and sweat gleamed off of his flanks. The desert was not just the land. The desert was everything inside of him. He breathed sand and sweated the cold night air. It was in his blood, and when he thought of those who led the desert... His blood roiled at the thought of another claiming what was his birthright. His dark eyes gleamed with something not quite warm, and not quite right. He ground his teeth and stomped his foot, impatient already with the task of waiting and watching for the right moment.

Patience, she said. I will be patient mother, but that means not that I will enjoy it. I ache for the day when I am the ruler of the Sands, and the legacy will continue from my body. I will make you proud. I will make him proud.

ooc: this is open to anyone! we're letting cancer's legacy loose!
word count: 593
tag: open

[Hattie]

ba da dum, ba da dum The young stallion's hooves tramped out a steady three beat tempo in the sand. His nostrils flared with exertion but he was far from spent. He was Asil, and Muniqi at that. Running was his life and the heat from the brilliant sun was as comforting to him as his own mother's warm flank.

This type of trek was common place for Ahmed, he went out with the pretext of scouting but in truth he was running just for running's sake. However, today he wanted something more. He need change, a new challenge to rise to and when Ahmed's roving eyes landed on a looming dune he knew he had found just that. Squealing with exhilaration he veered toward the dune and launched himself at its face. With each each leap his haunches bunched and rippled beneath him and a raucous grunt escaped him. Climbing a dune was no walk in the park, even for a desert born such as Ahmed. With each bound he slid a half length backward, slowing his progress to a crawl, but when he reached the crest Ahmed was more than satisfied with his accomplishment. His flanks and nostrils flared wildly as he fought to regain his breath but the pleasant tingle of wore muscles throbbed in his legs and made the burning in his lungs seem well worth the gain. He was an Emir, granted he would never be king as the second son, but he prided himself on his endurance and fleetness of foot. He was easily one of better, if not the best, racer in the tribe and the prospect of being able to outrun his larger brother was an added incentive. Ahmed did not envy his brother's crown as he knew well the title was more sacrifice than glory, but the drive to one up his elder brother other was as strong in him as it was in any common Asil.

With his thoughts still lingering on his brother, Ahmed started for a moment when he noted a dark figure not far below, but he quickly realized his mistake. This stud, though tall, dark, and thick like his brother, was black as pitch - a shade far darker than the sun-bleached red-black of his brother's pelt. Still this horse was no stranger and he called out to him boldly.

"Ho, Kehilan!

Having regained his breath to some extend Ahmed gathered himself for one more bound off the edge of the peak before letting gravity take hold and half sliding half running down the dune in a cascade of sand. He hit the ground at a trot and quickly came abreast the tall dark stallion, tail raised so high it draped over his back - a banner marking his confidence and exhilaration and having run across a brother in blood.

"What brings to the far sands Angelus? The herd life boring you? Or does Malaika have you on the run?" Ahmed broke into a smile thinking of the strange relationship between his almost sister and the regal black stallion, and of course he couldn't miss an opportunity to throw a jab at this stud who was so much like a brother to him as well.

ooc: kinda assuming Malaika would give angelus a bit of a cold shoulder or be snappy with him since aziz doesn't totally trust him, correct me if I'm wrong scar :3

[Silver]

Angelus

It was not his fault that he was so different than the horses that inhabited the desert. He had once thought himself one of them, at least until Aziz began to feel differently towards him. The black stallion snorted out his disgust for the old king. Aziz believed too much in tradition, and too much in purity. That would be his downfall, and the downfall of the herd. Angelus was not one to stick around for a dying breed, and yet he feared that too many would stay to watch the herd burn. His bitterness extended far beyond disgust, however, because his mother had been one of those suspected of treason. He was unsure as to why she was allowed to stay, but her health deteriorated quickly after Aziz had set his vulture’s gaze on the mare, and his mother had not lived long after. Angelus had a firm belief that the king had something to do with her death, and was still wary of what might become of him should the king learn of his true lineage.

Brooding over this fact, he did not notice the other stallion until he called to him. When his voice reached Angelus’ ears, the regal black stallion raised his head to squint at the top of the great dune. The shorter, thinner stallion was much lighter in coat color than he was, and that was to the other’s advantage. The younger emir, for that was what he was, could reflect the hot sunlight that Angelus’ coat absorbed. Even though he stood without moving, sweat trickled down the back of his spine and between his buttocks. He could feel the wet, itchy sensation of drying sweat starting between his chest muscles as well. The tall and dark stallion watched as the other (rather gracelessly, in his opinion), made his way down the mountain of sand. Ahmed’s tail was held in a confident manner, and Angelus raised his head in his usual regal manner in order to address the other male.

He could not help but smile at the breathless exhilaration of the other. Ahmed was different from his older brother; he was less upright and stolid than Stau. It will be Ahmed that I miss when the time comes for me to leave. It was growing more apparent that Aziz suspected his heritage as Angelus came into his full grown stature. Even just the way he carried himself spoke of a proud lineage, whereas most of the others in the herd were fairly subservient to the royal family. Angelus simply could not hold himself beneath the others, not with who he was. Yet for the time being he would hold his tongue and keep who he was under wraps. He turned his attention back to what Ahmed was saying, and grimaced slightly. “Thoughts chase me far into the sands, brother. I had need of a quiet place to sort them out.” His black eyes glinted in the sunlight, appearing deeper than they were. “Malaika bites off more than she can chew,” he replied dryly. “She tries her best to see me out of the herd. I fear that one day our King will lend her an ear and I will be out on my tail.” It was not an unfounded thought, in reality. He hoped that Ahmed was not against him as Aziz and the blasted Malaika were. On the other hand, it would make leaving less difficult.

ooc: sorry this is so late. :C
word count: 582
tag: ahmed, open