Post by Wolf of Hyper Flames [Puppys] on Nov 4, 2007 2:35:58 GMT -5
Name: Cloud
Age: 7
Species: Horse
Breed: Pinto
Gender: Mare
Color: Sheh as a whitem an, and a brown head. Her eyes are crystal blue. Around her neck is a thin strip of white, and on the back and down to half the shoulders, is white. The torso behin the front legs is white, and a bit before the back legs, is brown, with white leaking towards the tail and onto the hips. White socks of diffrent lengths, and a brown tail, and brown-black hooves. One brown spot on the back.
Side: Wild
Personality: Like a cloud, she can just seem to 'float' around and do nothing, be silent, obscure ot the world. She is quiet, but social by all means, and playful. Her head always seems to be in the clouds though. Make her mad and she becomes a storm, raining down on all who dare bother her. But after her 'storms', she is the beauty of a rainbow. Wether hse forces herself to live up to her name or if this is justh er nature, even she doesn'tknow, one of the reasons herh ead is always in the cloudsi s because she's trying to find thiso ut, too. But somehow, she always does live up to her name.
History: As a filly, she had been captured by an cruel indian, who lived without a tribe. He had beaten her to unconsiousness after capturing her, then driven wooden pegs into her left hip, in such a way they looked like a scar from three large claws. Real scar tissue grew over it, but you can sitll see the wood. He had named her One with Wooden Scar, and had called her Woodscar for short. She escaped one night though, roaming alone as she still does today, looking for a home. A tribe, a herd, anywhere. Just, a home.
Example Post: Cloud galloped softly through the chilly Fall's night. She was running, running from her past. In her dreams, she was always surrounded by darkness, and heard a voice calling to her, calling in a cruel way, her old name. 'Woodscar, Woodscar...' It would call, frightening her delicate soul. She shook she memoirs from her mind, and continued to gallop, frame shaking softly from both fright and the cold. Soft crystal blue eyes looked around, panicked. Out of breath, the young horse softly and slowly came to a stop, snorting. Tossing her white main, Cloud looked around to survey her surroundings. No place to hidefrom the cold. After catching her breath, the young horse began on her journey for a home once more, stopping now and again to look for a place ot sleep.
Picture: www.braile.net/Newsletters/horsePinto.jpg
Age: 7
Species: Horse
Breed: Pinto
Gender: Mare
Color: Sheh as a whitem an, and a brown head. Her eyes are crystal blue. Around her neck is a thin strip of white, and on the back and down to half the shoulders, is white. The torso behin the front legs is white, and a bit before the back legs, is brown, with white leaking towards the tail and onto the hips. White socks of diffrent lengths, and a brown tail, and brown-black hooves. One brown spot on the back.
Side: Wild
Personality: Like a cloud, she can just seem to 'float' around and do nothing, be silent, obscure ot the world. She is quiet, but social by all means, and playful. Her head always seems to be in the clouds though. Make her mad and she becomes a storm, raining down on all who dare bother her. But after her 'storms', she is the beauty of a rainbow. Wether hse forces herself to live up to her name or if this is justh er nature, even she doesn'tknow, one of the reasons herh ead is always in the cloudsi s because she's trying to find thiso ut, too. But somehow, she always does live up to her name.
History: As a filly, she had been captured by an cruel indian, who lived without a tribe. He had beaten her to unconsiousness after capturing her, then driven wooden pegs into her left hip, in such a way they looked like a scar from three large claws. Real scar tissue grew over it, but you can sitll see the wood. He had named her One with Wooden Scar, and had called her Woodscar for short. She escaped one night though, roaming alone as she still does today, looking for a home. A tribe, a herd, anywhere. Just, a home.
Example Post: Cloud galloped softly through the chilly Fall's night. She was running, running from her past. In her dreams, she was always surrounded by darkness, and heard a voice calling to her, calling in a cruel way, her old name. 'Woodscar, Woodscar...' It would call, frightening her delicate soul. She shook she memoirs from her mind, and continued to gallop, frame shaking softly from both fright and the cold. Soft crystal blue eyes looked around, panicked. Out of breath, the young horse softly and slowly came to a stop, snorting. Tossing her white main, Cloud looked around to survey her surroundings. No place to hidefrom the cold. After catching her breath, the young horse began on her journey for a home once more, stopping now and again to look for a place ot sleep.
Picture: www.braile.net/Newsletters/horsePinto.jpg