Post by Maybe on Aug 15, 2009 14:22:16 GMT -5
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Darthyn
paint horse - eight years - stallion
The Basics
They know me as Darthyn.
I have roamed the earth for eight long years.
My ancestry is that of the Paint Horse.
My chromosomes say XY. I'm all stallion.
I stand at 16 hands.
I tip the scales at 1200 pounds.
Allegiances
I claim the land of Vast Plains.
I am know myself as lord of these lands.
Family by Chance
The one who gave me life was called Vela, but she is no longer with me.
The one who helped her (a little bit), was called Stryker, although he is also dead.
I was the only foal that came from this union.
Family by Choice
I share my love with none, for who could ever love me back?
I pass my bloodlines down to none.
In-Depth
See me. A pearlescent white coat covers my pale pink skin, my eyes are the color of the coldest winter ice. My body is large and well-muscled, as is expected in Quarter Horses. In the early morning light, my pale coat is almost impossible to spot, my ghostly shape moving easily through the mists without detection.
Know me. When one thinks of me, one would think first of my vast intelligence and knowledge. I'm always in search of new ideas and answers to questions new and old. Skillfully intellectual, I am quite good at making detailed plans, concocting them within moments. I am sly, sneaky, and sinister, although I generally means no harm. I would never use my intelligence to hurt anyone...without good reason. Most horses misunderstand me because of the pale color of my coat and skin; they believe that the rare coloration is ghost-like and spooky. I prefer to keep mostly to myself, thriving only on short intellectual conversations, if any can be found.
I have never known love or affection, so naturally, love is the one thing I do not understand or comprehend. I trust no horse fully. I am always on guard, waiting and watching for any sign of trouble, deception, or mutiny.
This is how it began. I was born to a rather old loner mare. She was a nobody, and, by extension, so was I. My father never bothered with me, wanting only strong male heirs for his herd. Once I was born and my sire looked upon my ghostly coat and pink skin, he scorned me and my mother, and left us for dead. It was his belief that pale skin was a sign of weakness and frailty. How wrong he was. With every month, I grew stronger and smarter, easily outweighing my mother after only a year of life. I took care of her. Protected her. When I was two, my mother passed away. She had lived 15 good years, and so I did not grieve for her lost life. I was sad, yes, but I had learned not to let his emotions control him. I had become used to being left on my own. Since then, I wandered alone, until I was old enough to claim my own land. When I was five, I laid claim to my own territory, Vast Plains, and I have lived there alone ever since.
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Cambria
gypsy vanner - five years - mare
The Basics
I was born with the name Harlequin Romance, but I go by Cambria.
I have seen five summers.
The blood in my veins is that of the noble Gypsy Vanner.
My biology says mare.
I stand at the height of 15 hands.
I tip the scales at 1300 pounds.
Allegiances
I run with no herd.
I call myself a loner. . . for now.
Family by Chance
My dam was named Harlequin Princess, her location is unknown to me.
My sire, whom I never met, was called Gypsy Ransom, his location is also unknown.
I have many siblings on my sire's side, all of whom I have never met, nor do I know where they are today.
Family by Choice
I give my heart to none.
I have brought none into this world.
In-Depth
See me. I am all hips. My large-framed body is covered in a unique blend of white and dappled-gray, and my large hooves are covered by a fringe of silky feathering. My mane and tail are long and luxurious, and my face is as pretty as a winter sunset.
Know me. Flirtatious and seductive, I will flirt with any male. I use her astonishingly good looks and my powers of persuasion to get exactly what I want. Behind this layer of seemingly confident vitality lies the tortured soul of a cynic. I hardly trust anybody, but no one would ever guess. My emotional walls are higher than Babylon, and even though I may appear to trust someone, I don't. Ever.
I am a full-bodied female, with wide hips and a face to die for. I holds a particular disdain for flighty little females, thin, lithe-bodied hot-bloods with their pretty concave profiles and their tiny delicate hooves. Although I am a large gal, I'm not fat; my Gypsy blood makes me bold and strong, a TRUE beauty. Not only am I tough, but I'm a smart little vixen, too, using my wicked wiles and manipulative ways to get exactly what I want. While other mares are prancing around, tails held aloft, I'm standing beside the stallions, ready to fight behind them, or against them. Whichever is necessary.
This is how it started. I was born and bred in captivity, in a stately Gypsy Vanner breeding farm, they named me Harlequin Romance. When the market crashed and the farm got foreclosed, I escaped into the wild. Since then,I have made a fresh start in the wild, and changed my name to Cambria. Simple, yet sophisticated, fit for a horse of champion bloodlines, don't you think? For years I have roamed alone, with no true home, but I'm tough, and I can handle anything life throws at me.
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Dred
mustang x TB - eight years - stallion
The Basics
They fear the name Dred.
I have roamed this wretched earth for five long years.
My noble ancestry is that of the wild mustang and the swift thoroughbred.
My body is molded in the shape of a stallion.
I stand at 15.2 hands.
I tip the scales at 1100 pounds.
Allegiances
I claim the land of Deep Woods.
I am know myself as lord of these lands.
Family by Chance
The bitch who carried me for 11 months was called Tarnaq, but I couldn't care less about her.
The one who planted the seed that created me was called Xanthos, and I hate him.
I had a sister, but she was killed by our own father.
Family by Choice
I give my heart to none, because I have no heart to give.
My bitches are none yet, but I intend to collect many.
I pass my bloodlines down to none yet, but my time will come.
In-Depth
See me. I am large and rugged, with a long rangy mustang mane and a coat of blue. My body is marked with many scars and cuts, souvenirs from the many fights I've started, many of which I have won. My eyes, like my soul, are deepest black.
Know me. I am the quintessential smooth-talking bad guy. I'm a selfish bastard, and only MY needs matter. I am extremely intelligent and sly, and I look down on everyone else, because no one is good enough for me. I must admit, I use me flashy looks to attract the ladies, and I use the ladies to get exactly what I want: heirs. Unlike most stallions, I treat at mares like they are queens, but I know they aren't good for anything except giving birth and providing power and pleasure. I do not comprehend love or compassion, but I am enthralled and obsessed with power.
This is how it began. My birth and youth were unremarkable, as typical as everyone else's. NOT. The moment I was weaned, my sire impregnated my dam once again, and when I was almost a year old, she gave birth to my sister. That was the first time I felt love. But soon after her birth, she was trampled by my unsatisfied father, who only wanted male heirs to continue his bloodline. My mother didn't care. She hated the filly just as much as he did, she just didn't have the stomach to kill it herself. This was the moment that changed me forever. I felt my mind unraveling, coming unhinged. As soon as I was old enough to leave my father's herd, I did, and, as much as I hated it, I knew I would follow his path. I knew that it was time to begin "collecting" mares for my own harem. But I'm not like him. I value mares, they provide pleasure and power, and a female can give birth to many healthy foals in her lifetime. Two years after I left, I claimed Deep Woods, and I have lived there alone ever since, watching, waiting for a mare to wander into the darkest part of the South lands.
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Pip
welsh pony x arabian - three years - mare
The Basics
Hello, my name is Pippa, but you can call me Pip!
I am three years old.
My breed is Welsh Pony mixed with Arabian, I think.
I am a mare, stallions are yucky.
I'm very little, I'm only 13.2 hands.
I weigh about 600 pounds.
Allegiances
I have no home, or herd.
I am a loner, but I wish I wasn't.
Family by Chance
I don't know who my parents are. I think I'm an orphan.
I don't have any brothers or sisters, either. I'm all alone.
Family by Choice
What's a mate? Is that like a boyfriend? Ew, no way!
I'm too young for foals, too, but I don't think I'll ever have them.
In-Depth
See me. I'm very little, with large eyes and a small head with a dished face, probably from my Arabian blood. I also have a naturally high-set tail. My fur is golden, and my mane is a lighter flaxen. I have a rather thick white blaze down my face and two hind stockings.
Know me. Aside from being extremely smart and creative, others say I'm the oddest, strangest horse they have ever met. I'm very unpredictable, and I sometimes disappear for days at a time to my secret place, but I'm not telling where it is, so don't ask! I am a little bit immature, and I sometimes have a hard time deciding when to be quiet and when to speak, and usually my decision ends up being the wrong one. I'm just the teensiest bit scatterbrained, oftentimes forgetting and confusing the names of horses I've known for years. It has nothing to do with my intelligence, which is far beyond average (due to her Arabian blood), it's mostly attributed to the major concussion I suffered as a foal.
Oftentimes, I have nightmares, and I don't know what they mean. Besides that, I am an agreeable, friendly pony and I love my life. I know I'm a bit strange though. I mutter under her breath a lot, about dreams and other random things that no one will ever understand, but I can't help it. I don't know why, but a lot of horses have told me I'm pretty. I get very confused when males look at me in that weird way; I have no idea what they are thinking! I've been told that I'm extremely innocent, but I know where foals come from! But I refuse to speak of it because it is yicky. I can't even begin to imagine myself in that position, so I just shrug off any and all male attention that I gets, 'cuz it weirds me out.
Where did I come from? I don't remember anything before my first birthday. Nothing of my foalhood, my parents; everything's GONE. The reason for this strange affliction was a serious concussion I suffered as a yearling. But the weird thing is, I don't know how I was injured or where I even came from, but since then, I have wandered alone, in search of a place where she can truly belong.
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