Post by blizzard on Jun 1, 2006 5:34:03 GMT -5
Name: Blizzard
Nickname: Blizzard
Pronunciation: (If hard to pronounce): Blizzard
Alliance:
Age: 2 yrs
Gender: Stallion
Breed: Mustang
Height (Horse Hands): Fifteen hands high
Description: A whitish shade of cream covers most of Blizzards coat, matched with a cream coloured mane and tail that are usually tangled. His face slides into a pale white and straight down t he middle, he has a dirty shade of brownish cream. He has four even white socks that can barely be seen, due to the fact that he has a cream coat, liquid brown eyes that show wisdom, and some traces of the foal still within him, and shiny black hooves to top it off. But he also has a scar that traces down his neck as a reminder of a fight he would never forget. It was a foal fight, but the yearling’s hoof slashed Blizzard down his neck, thankfully, not injuring him too much. (Refer to History)
Personality: Blizzard disobeyed his parents often. If his dam said not to roll in the dirt, he would roll in any mud, if not, in the dirtiest dirt possible, if his sire said not to annoy elders, he would annoy them in the most annoying way. Charming is the next word I would use. He could go up to the fillies that hated him and flatter them until they giggled and forgot that they didn’t like him. Yes, he was young, careless, free.... He could still flatter mares, annoy others…
History: Blizzard was involved in many foal fights during the winters and summers that he lived as a foal, then as a yearling. Many were beaten by him, some beat him, gloating, but they were older than him, stronger. But there was one day that he went to his mum, neck slashed and bleeding. It all started on a bright, early morning, Blizzard woke up and trotted to the meadow, hidden from view by rocks, which he loved to frolic and roll in. He had trotted there but was met by an ugly sight. Three yearlings stood there, they were the bullies of his herd. No foal stood in their way, no one dared too. But Blizzard was not thinking his rage was boiling. He reared and whinnied, charging at them. The yearlings stepped aside, allowing him to brush past them, but one reared and his hoof slashed down the side of Blizzards neck. The yearlings stared at the blood and masks of fear were put on as they turned and fled. Blizzard neighed in pain and galloped as fast as he could to his mum. His mum was shocked at the sight of him, but there was nothing she could do, except to wash it and wait for it to heal. So she brought him to the nearest river and washed to blood away. Revealing a deep slashed that ran the length of his neck. She asked him who did it and he answered her softly. She stormed to the lead mare and reported what had happened. The next morning, the three yearlings that had bullied him were banished from the herd. After that morning, Blizzard was left alone by the other foals and was looked with awe at the newborns after they heard his story. But when he came of age, the lead stallion chased him out, after falling for a beautiful mare. And so he roamed the land, looking, searching for a herd he could join...
Password: [H:O]
Nickname: Blizzard
Pronunciation: (If hard to pronounce): Blizzard
Alliance:
Age: 2 yrs
Gender: Stallion
Breed: Mustang
Height (Horse Hands): Fifteen hands high
Description: A whitish shade of cream covers most of Blizzards coat, matched with a cream coloured mane and tail that are usually tangled. His face slides into a pale white and straight down t he middle, he has a dirty shade of brownish cream. He has four even white socks that can barely be seen, due to the fact that he has a cream coat, liquid brown eyes that show wisdom, and some traces of the foal still within him, and shiny black hooves to top it off. But he also has a scar that traces down his neck as a reminder of a fight he would never forget. It was a foal fight, but the yearling’s hoof slashed Blizzard down his neck, thankfully, not injuring him too much. (Refer to History)
Personality: Blizzard disobeyed his parents often. If his dam said not to roll in the dirt, he would roll in any mud, if not, in the dirtiest dirt possible, if his sire said not to annoy elders, he would annoy them in the most annoying way. Charming is the next word I would use. He could go up to the fillies that hated him and flatter them until they giggled and forgot that they didn’t like him. Yes, he was young, careless, free.... He could still flatter mares, annoy others…
History: Blizzard was involved in many foal fights during the winters and summers that he lived as a foal, then as a yearling. Many were beaten by him, some beat him, gloating, but they were older than him, stronger. But there was one day that he went to his mum, neck slashed and bleeding. It all started on a bright, early morning, Blizzard woke up and trotted to the meadow, hidden from view by rocks, which he loved to frolic and roll in. He had trotted there but was met by an ugly sight. Three yearlings stood there, they were the bullies of his herd. No foal stood in their way, no one dared too. But Blizzard was not thinking his rage was boiling. He reared and whinnied, charging at them. The yearlings stepped aside, allowing him to brush past them, but one reared and his hoof slashed down the side of Blizzards neck. The yearlings stared at the blood and masks of fear were put on as they turned and fled. Blizzard neighed in pain and galloped as fast as he could to his mum. His mum was shocked at the sight of him, but there was nothing she could do, except to wash it and wait for it to heal. So she brought him to the nearest river and washed to blood away. Revealing a deep slashed that ran the length of his neck. She asked him who did it and he answered her softly. She stormed to the lead mare and reported what had happened. The next morning, the three yearlings that had bullied him were banished from the herd. After that morning, Blizzard was left alone by the other foals and was looked with awe at the newborns after they heard his story. But when he came of age, the lead stallion chased him out, after falling for a beautiful mare. And so he roamed the land, looking, searching for a herd he could join...
Password: [H:O]