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Post by syeira on Jul 27, 2008 14:59:01 GMT -7
( Okies. Just make up a horse and start RPing as it. You don't need to post a bio or anything, just say their name. Mythical horses are allowed, yes they talk, wild.
Gwen. )
It was a calm grey evening, the clouds overshadowing the sun. The grass was a lush emerald green, dandelions sprouting up in the large, open meadow. But the most dashing thing in the meadow had rythmatic beats underneath it, as it soared over the landscape. It was a mare, flaming chestnut with burning amber eyes. On her delicate Arabian dished face was a star, bright white against the fiery hues of her pelt. Her mane and tail, flaxen, billowed out after her as she galloped over one of the rolling hills in the vast field. Her long legs were each decorated with a white sock, and on her haunch was a odd patch of pure ivory. She tossed her head as she ran, mane wavering at the movement. She took off down the hill, daggers barely touching the earth as she flew over the landscape. As she mounted another hillock, she skidded to a halt, tossing her elegantly carved dial into the breeze again, as she lifted up her small bodice, her fore-daggers pawing at the sky. Her hinds supported her shortly, before gravity brought her back to Earth again. She let out a whistling neigh, and despite how high pitched it was it was still musical, and she snorted afterwards, shaking her head once more. She head her head high, her neck arched, and her pillars locked as she looked over the terra; her terra. This had been her home for two of the three years she'd lived, and it had supported her gallantly. Apple trees dotted the landscape, and at the most northern corner of the area was a cave, hidden behind a large waterfall that shimmered many different colors when the sun rose and set on the horizens. A content sigh was released; what a lovely life to live. [/color] Words// 302 |
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Post by 都Tsuzuki筑 on Jul 27, 2008 16:24:05 GMT -7
(Alright, got it
Character: Hämärä)
An answering whinny rang out across the open feild. It was a shrill, peircing sound-- a squeal of anger. On one of the rolling hills across from where the chestnut mare was standing was another mare. Her sleek pelt was black as a starless night, with the execption of a small white halfmoon marking on her left heel. In some cultures, a marking such as this was supposed to appear only on the fastest and swiftest of equines. If this was true, the black mare would have been a perfect example. She pranced lightly on her long, slim warmblood legs, rolling her small head and elegantly tossing her mane. Without a seconds notice she took off at full gallop, her slender legs propelling her quickly and gracefully across the grasses, long silky mane streaming in the wind, smooth black hoves barely touching the ground. Few things were more beautiful than a healthy, wild horse in their element.
The mares speed soon carried her to where the chestnut stood. She stopped abruptly, turning her body horizontally and again prancing anxiously. Suddenly she stopped, and stood silently for not but a few seconds. Then pawing the ground, she let out another loud, shreaking neigh. A neigh of challenge. This was the mare called Hämärä, a young nomad without a herd or a terraroty of her own. But she was going to change that. The muscles in her powerful flank rippled as she lifted her front hooves into the air, pawing and thrashing. White teeth flashed in the dim light. She came back down to earth with a thump, fire burning in her dark, liquid eyes. Nostrils flared, she lowred her head and kicked out her hind legs this time, trying to provoke the chestnut. The warmblood and arabian breeds to begin with were similar in size, with Swedish warmbloods being longer bodied with slightly shorter legs-- females in particular. If the arabian mare didn't want to give up her land without at least a little skirmish, at least they would be fairly evenly matched.
Word Count: 342
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Post by syeira on Jul 27, 2008 18:16:46 GMT -7
As soon as the scent and sound of the jet black mare entered Gwen's senses, she whirled to face the direction in which the other equine had called from. A snort of disgust was exhibited; if this rouge thought she could out-anything Gwen, she was very ill informed. The fiery nymph reared up upon her lengthy appendages, her large amber eyes piercing and confident. She came down, lifting her right forehoof to paw in the other's direction, and she stood perfectly still as the mare went on acting like a yearling colt showing off to the fillies. Gwen snorted, and let out another whistling neigh at the mare, accepting the challenge. There would be no giving up from this side. If the other vixen knew what as good for her, she'd scram and leave the area before she got her rear end beat to the ground. She might be fast, but was she equally strong? Of course, this miss was fast, strong, beautiful, and agile, like all the horses in her lineage. She sidestepped and reared then, and began cantering around the other. She picked up speed, gaining her footing, and would randomly lash out with either teeth or hooves, each coming unexpectedly. She veered off to avoid being tripped or shoved, and whirled around to face the other female again. She reared, pawing at the vix's face, urging her upward for a hooved brawl. [/color] Words// 235 |
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