Post by WORMY on Aug 21, 2011 13:58:02 GMT -5
Cascade:
Name: My dam christened me Cascade and you shall call me such.
Gender: I have been blessed a Mare and I am proud of it.
Age: I have walked this land for five years each one longer than the one before.
Height: I stand a mere 15.2hh but I am more viscous than most stallions.
Species: Do you see a horn on my head or wings that grace my body? Do I have stripes or ears the size of the sun? No I am a horse.
Type: The blood that courses through my veins burn hotter than the sun. If you do not know what that does to my looks, back up a few steps and admire my body.Is it not beautiful?
Color: I am a bright chestnut, sometimes compared to the blaze of a forest fire. (Like so) I have a mark on my shoulder that has been there since birth. It is made up of white hairs and looks like this.
Mane Color: Are you blind? My mane is long thick and the same color as my body!
Tail Color: The same as my mane with a streak of white that runs through it.
Eye Color: Ah, my eyes are my best feature! They are odd for an equine, and I have no idea why they are like this but here, have a look.
Personality: I love a good fight. They are what fuels me. The taste of my opponents blood on my teeth is what I live for, to banter back and forth with stinging words is how I will spend my free time. I am not one to be trifled with, but if you have the nerve to try, you can find a soft side to me buried beneath my evil layers. Many have died trying and many more will join them I think. This is a happy thought.
History Now why do you want to know? My history is mine and mine alone, I have hidden the secrets of my past deep within me and none but the most worthy shall be allowed to hear it! Now if that is all, I shall ask you to leave this- What was that? Kostic sent you? I see... Then I guess you will hear my story. Though don't go blabbing it to any ear ready to hear it. I will hunt you down if you do.
Well then, lets get started! I was born under a new moon. No light shone down for my mother who labored for hours to give birth to me. When the dawn came, she was crushed as I was a filly and not the colt that she had wanted and prayed for. She named me and kept me anyways. Cascade is I fine name I think, it suits me. Now my mother was gorgeous was she not? Ah and my father had a soul to match his coat. He loved my mother though, even if he didn't love me. To my whole herd, colts were to be wished and prayed for, fillies were just another slave for the stallions. You see, my father ran his herd in strange ways. All of his colts had been allowed to stay as long as they wished. Fillies, on the other hand, were slaves for the males and if they did something wrong they were banished. The only time a filly wouldn't be kicked out was when she was still nursing on a likable mare. If father didn't like either the mare or the foal, he would leave them both behind.
I was born to his favorite mare though, so I had a chance to learn the ways that a filly must act to the stallions. When I was six months old, mother became pregnant again and weaned me away from her milk so that my brother could nurse. Now, his coloring was different than all the other foals by my sire and his build was different also, heavier, stronger. My father saw this and was outraged that his favorite mare had betrayed him for another stallion. He knew the colt would be a formidable fighter and defender of the herd though, so he named him heir to his throne. At the time I didn't understand any of that though. When the colt was old enough to be weaned, I was a yearling filly and my mother was killed for her betrayal. My father said that she deserved a quick death instead of a slow one out on open plains all alone. He did it himself and when she was dead I saw him nuzzle her one last time, the only time I ever saw him show compassion.
His temper got worse after that though. He raped all the mares he could find, he didn't care about age or level of fitness, if they had a foal inside them or by their side. Many were proud to give birth to a foal by the leader instead of some other stud. They bore the rape proudly and I didn't understand it. I was left alone though and I can't to this day figure out why, maybe I was too strong of a reminder of my mother. The stallions in the herd started to catch on to the idea of rape and began to rape mares themselves. By now the whole herd was just filled with young foals, tired mares and sex crazed studs.
I turned three and my brother turned two and a half when he raped me. It was a sick and twisted experience, and I became pregnant. I was scared and hurt that my little tiny play mate of a brother had done this to me. That was the day I vowed to get back at them. I practiced fighting with some of the other young mares and I fast became the best. I had to stop when I was too far along in my pregnancy though. I gave birth in the early spring to a big blue roan filly who was born dead. I silently thanked whoever as out there that this foal didn't have to endure the harsh way of life in my herd.
For a year the other young mares and I practiced our fighting skills. There was fifteen of us, five were just two years old, seven were three, and three were four. I was one of the four year olds, and I led the whole enterprise. We had to do it in secret though. If anyone found out we would all be killed. We watched the stallions in their mock fights and took the moves that we saw and tried them out, tweaking and changing them as needed to make them better and stronger.
One day though, my father got mad at one of the old mares in the herd and started beating on her. I knew that she would die if someone didn't do something, so I took matters into my own hands and attacked my father. At first, the other stallions moved into help him, but he shouted them away, saying that if I wanted a fight I would have a fair fight. On the drop of those words, the other fourteen mares stepped forwards to help me. I told them to pick a stud to fight and was bold enough to say that if they won that fight fair and square, they would have rights to do what they wished to that stud. My father then countered that if the stud won, he could rape the mare until they died, and if they refused to die, they could kill them in whatever fashion they saw fit. Of course all of the studs wanted to be picked as they knew they would win.
I didn't pay any attention though and started to circle my father. The blood that spilled that day is unmatched by any fight I have seen since. Of my fourteen mares, three were killed in battle, two were raped to death, one was killed after being raped, but eight mare beat the studs to a pulp. Those stallions were either killed or sent away. And still, my father and I fought. we were both tired and weak, and when I saw him slip, I lunged forwards, grabbing his throat in my teeth and ripping his wind pipe out. He died instantly and every one was stunned. A mere four year old mare had killed their leader. I took the place of their leader for a year, but it was a weary job to try and wipe clean the rape from their minds, so when a fit strong young mare stepped forwards, I let her have the leader position, and left the herd.
This is where you find me, ready to do battle again and craving the taste of new blood. I hope it comes soon.
FLINT
Name: Flint
Gender: Stallion
Age: 6
Height: 17.2hh
Species: Horse
Type: warm-blooded
Color: Base coat: Dark blue. Pattern: Four glowing white circles on left HL.
Mane Color: Black
Tail Color: Black
Eye Color: Blood Red. No pupil
Picture:http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/220/f/4/flint_by_welshlover11-d45wak1.jpg
Personality: Flint is not a stallion to be trifled with. He is a dangerous horse to start with, but if you make him angry, he is murderous. His appearance has always struck fear into the hearts of the weak minded, they can't see past the blood red eyes hat have no obvious pupil or the permanently stained hooves. He can be gentle to the mares he likes, or any foal that has some spunk to them, but that side of him is rarely seen. His main goal in life is to have power, as much as he can get.
History Flint has had a fairly uneventful life. He grew up in a herd with a loving mother and father who taught him that he could become anyone he wished. When he turned three, he left the herd and his parents to find a land to claim and a harem of his own. He didn't care whether or not her had to kill to be in control of something. He killed for the first time in his fourth year. It was a spat over a pretty mare that Flint fancied and the stallion he fought was old and weak. When the old stud took his last breath, Flint was mortified. He said words over the old ones body and pleaded forgiveness from his spirit. He took the whole herd with him then as he now owned the herd and the land that they traveled. For a year he ran with them, three mares had colts of his blood and one a filly. Half way through the next year though, a great famine killed everyone in his herd, he survived only because of his strong will to live. Now he wanders looking once more for ultimate control.