{SO sorry for edits, I'm adding as a go, as I have school so I can not post it all in one form}
Form wrote:Username: {h o r s e}
Name: Storm
Meaning: A storm
Height: 15.3hh
Gender: Male
Fave food: Clover
Least fave food: Nothing, really
Song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TGx0rApSk6w&feature=kp I think it suit him, also, the chorus talks about standing by someone's side and I think that represents storm and his mother.
Coat: Black Frame Overo. My parents are black, so the overo and frame must be in my genes.
Haiku poems wrote:One:тнє ωιη∂ нσωℓѕ ℓσυ∂ℓу
ι нι∂є ιηтσ тнє ѕнα∂σωѕ
кιηg σƒ ѕтσямѕ αη∂ ωιη∂
Two:
ѕтσям ѕтяσηg αη∂ ωιη∂ιηg
тнє ωιη∂ ιѕ нσωℓιηg ραѕт мє
тнє ѕριяιт ση тнє ηιgнт
Poem wrote:I can hear the wind howl,
Through this willows.
I can see the sky flash,
Boom, crash, bellow.
The wind whistles past,
Like ghosts, haunting.
The storm is protective,
I find it not daunting.
The shadows lurk behind me,
Enveloping from the chill.
I feel my heart thunder,
With excitement and thrill.
I rear and paw the air,
Pure strength and power.
I throw up my face,
To the rain, like a shower.
My mane flows behind,
Like a waterfall.
The king of the storm,
No fear at all.
The flurry is almost over,
The wind is dying down.
I stand in the sunset,
The storm is my crown.
Story wrote:I was born in the middle of the storm. Pretty typical, right? As far as I remember, I was a little helpless foal, nestled into the side of my mother, protecting myself from the tremendous wind. This was a different storm. Not your ‘typical’ or ‘average’ storm. A ‘blown off your feet storm’. Horses and animals called out in fear and they were almost taken away by the immense power of the wind. My mother kept me safe, surrounding me so I wasn’t blown away. The wind whistled, a sharp, high pitched tone blowing through my delicate ears. It felt like months as we lay through the arduous storm, the rain pounding onto my hide like tiny little nails. The storm took 2 nights to die down, and we were left with the torn up trees and ground that remained. The grass was greener than ever before, and a rainbow peeked out from behind the still cloudy sky. Most of our herd did not make it through the night. My mother called me Storm, which I though was way too cliché, so I like to call myself ‘warrior’. I have led the life of a hunted horse, sought after by many men. But I was born with the gift of stealth. Many men have tried to chase after me, but I hide back into the shadows, my blue eyes glowing. One day, I was pretty close. I was captured by a rope. I screamed in fear as the rough material tightened around my neck. I was put in a pen that I could not jump. I tried using my strong hooves to smash the pen, rearing up onto my powerful legs to smash down the fence. Many men tried to tame me, but I stuck them down, my spirit still wild and free. I stayed in the pen for 5 days and 4 nights until I managed to escape. A man came into my pen with a rope, and I managed to push through the gate before he could capture me. To this day I have remained wild and free, and I know it will always stay this way.
[quote="My Brother"I should probably tell you about my twin brother, Lightning. He is a few seconds younger than me. During the storm, which my mother protected me through, we lost my brother. My mother was heartbroken. We have never seen him since. We have caught word that there is a powerful black frame overo roaming the northern table lands. I believe he is still alive.[/quote]