Name;;
Friesha
Gender;;
Female
Goldfish pic/gif;;
Goldfish Cracker Anatomy o0o

Username:
Kaia*Scarlet
Name:
Cerf (ss-air-if) meaning Bull,Horn,strong for his peculiar bull like Horns on his head. ♡
Gender:
Male

Username:
IndecisiveAdvocate
Name:
Sabitsuki (Sabi)
Which assumably means 'covered in rust'
Gender:
Male

Name;; Malyk
Gender;; Male
Shark picture/gif;;

3 characteristics:
tall
sabino markings
pink nose
Raffle Number (1-7):
2

-Swift stamp of approval-
This looks so pretty hhh ;O;

Username;;
Rainbow Noivern
Name;;
Darryl
Gender;;
Male
Picture showing personality;;

He likes the Walkin Ded

iBrevity


The Dreadful Thunder


Brontide


His show name is derived from a poem written by a man named Andrew Cherry titled "Biscay, The Bay". It can be found in its entirety here, though the lines most related to Brontide are the first two: "Loud roared the dreadful thunder, / The rain a deluge showers". His barn name is the word 'brontide', which means "a low muffled sound like distant thunder heard in certain seismic regions especially along seacoasts and over lakes and thought to be caused by feeble earth tremors".




a gold-based halter would be fantastic <3


15.2 hh (abnormally tall for a Tolter, and broad-chested to boot)


male


bisexual


Galahad --- Brontide and Galahad are unsurprisingly very good friends. Galahad is also rather large for a tolter and just as gentle as Brontide; with the sole exception of fights picked on the behalf of his mate Fitcher. Galahad is calm and peaceable and enveloped Brontide easily into their friend group. They're rarely alone together, given Fitcher's attachment to his mate, but Brontide is glad that they have befriended him all the same.

Fitcher --- When Brontide and Fitcher first met one another Brontide was incredibly intimidated by the small, slender stallion. Fitcher was being unreasonably aggressive because he'd incorrectly assumed Brontide was going to be a rough-rider and so Brontide was in the midst of trying to excuse himself and Fitcher was shouting after him when Galahad showed up. On their own, Fitcher and Brontide would probably not have enough to talk about (they're very different horses, after all) but Galahad rounds out their discussions just fine.

Quetzal --- Brontide is rightly intimidated by Quetzalcoatl. Most of the horses at Clovercliff recognize that there is something odd and very different about Quetzal, but very few recognize that they are actually a reincarnated god of the same name. Brontide tripped on the knowledge quite on accident and hasn't been able to forget it enough to hold an actual conversation with Quetzalcoatl; he's simply too intimidated by them. (Unbeknownst to Brontide, Quetzalcoatl privately finds these attempts at talking hilarious and encourages them whenever they can.)




Orphee et Eurydice performed by Christoph Willibald Gluck; listen to it here


guileless || authentic || simple || boyish
Brontide was born big. He got his show name because his original owners hoped he'd be as fierce as his size promised, but Brontide grew up gentle and naive. If he has a temper at all, the other horses have not seen hide nor hair of it. Insults roll off his coat like water might; he can often be found smiling in an absentminded sort of way and listening to the complaints of his friends. He has an endless well of patience and never appears to be irritated in any sense of the word. If anything, Brontide is pliable and happy to help. His friends say that he grew up kind because he was big enough that he never had to be concerned for bullies or predators.

Privately, Brontide is a little intimidated by his size. He's taller than most but he's also very big everywhere else; he has thick legs and a barrel chest and an enormous head. He frets about accidentally hurting somebody and so he is an excellent beginner's horse because he is always so very careful. He finds humans exceptionally frightening because they are so small compared to him, and seem so fragile. He has never thrown anyone, though he did once accidentally trod on a young student's foot and broke three of her toes. Ever since then he's gotten better at checking his surroundings and moving more slowly. Brontide likes doing things slowly anyway, so the change doesn't bother him overmuch. There's so much more to see in the world when you're walking instead of running.




Brontide stood upon a grassy knoll and listened to Fitcher and Galahad speaking behind him. He was only halfwise paying attention to their conversation; there was a lovely storm rolling in on the horizon and he was far more preoccupied with that, the way the grey clouds clung to the jagged mountain tops and the stirring of lightning in the dark interior.

“Oh god,” Fitcher said suddenly, rousing Brontide from his speculations. He turned to better see the two stallions, catching Fitcher's exasperated expression. “It's that guy.”

“Who guy?” Brontide asked blankly.

Galahad chuckled and nosed at Fitcher's mane to quiet him. “He's speaking of Quetzalcoatl,” he said. “That palomino over there.” He gestured to the other tolter with a sweep of his head and Brontide turned to follow the motion, flicking his ears forward in interest. He spotted the tolter in question very easily; they was a brilliant golden hue swirled with yellow and white, all four of their legs pale in contrast to the shine of their body. It seemed almost as if the horse had overheard them speaking, but that was of course impossible because they were a great distance away; but still, Quetzal's head swung in their direction and neon green eyes lighted on Brontide as if the glittering backs of bugs.

Brontide felt a distinct shiver crawl up his back and looked away. Fitcher stage-whispered, “They're real strange, aren't they?”

Before Brontide could ask what he meant of that Galahad said in explanation, “There are some around here that whisper about them being a reincarnated Aztec god. You know, just because they've got an unusual name.”

“I think the eyes might contribute to that too, Gala,” Fitcher said with a snort. “And their behavior. I mean, have you ever seen someone enjoy a wind storm more?”

“What's that have to do with anything?” Brontide asked in confusion.

“Quetzalcoatl was the god of the wind,” Galahad said. “Merlin was telling us about him a few nights back. Of course everyone there was thinking of the day Quetzal ran up into the hills to get closer to this huge storm that was coming in, how happy they'd been when the wind was tearing grass out of the ground inches from 'em. It really was something.”

Brontide hummed. He sneaked a look back to where Quetzal had stood but the horse was gone now, disappeared in between one moment and the next. The green of their glinting eyes lingered half-remembered.

---

Later that same afternoon Brontide stood alone beside the little Clovercliff pond and thought of gods and storms. He himself was overly fond of storms and he had little experience with gods; he supposed he had wondered sometimes, in the midst of a particularly vicious hurricane or tornado or coastal storm. He wondered if it was true, and if Quetzalcoatl would admit to it even if it were. It was a strange thing to be wondering on a Saturday.

“You have a question for me?”

Brontide jumped as though a snake had just bit him and spun to face the speaker, somewhat unsurprised to identify that coolly amused voice as Quetzal's. The tolter's eyes were much more intimidating this close, though they were overall significantly smaller than Brontide and the size discrepancy should have made him feel more secure.

“Um,” he said, trying to conjure up what Quetzal had said. “I don't... think so?”

Quetzal smiled. “I see. I thought I overheard you.”

Brontide only barely restrained himself from asking if Quetzalcoatl was a god of telepathy as well, and cleared his throat instead. “Yes, well.” He stared at Quetzal's hooves, marveling at how white they were. After an uncomfortable moment of silence he blurted, “You're Quetzalcoatl, right?”

“Yes,” Quetzal replied, their smile broadening. A small wind played with their ivory mane, ghosting the strands across the arch of their strong neck. Brontide wondered at that, because he himself could feel no wind. “And you are Brontide. Named after thunder.”

“Oh,” Brontide said, quite certain he had yet to introduce himself to this tolt. “Yes, I guess I am.”

Quetzal inclined their head. “My brother is as well,” they said. At Brontide's blank look they added, “Named after thunder,” in the sort of tone an adult might use with a particularly thick-headed foal.

“Oh,” Brontide repeated. “I didn't know you had a brother.”

“He's yet to arrive,” Quetzalcoatl said, still smiling in an unperturbed fashion. “But he's on his way.”

Brontide had a terrible urge to ask what exactly he meant by that (the other horses said Quetzalcoatl had been bought by Clovercliff and never once spoke of where he'd been born or of his parents; Brontide couldn't imagine how he would know anything about a brother named after thunder who had yet to be born). He resisted in a great will of strength.

“I heard that you like storms,” he said, seeking desperately for a firmer topic to grasp to. Quetzal's unbothered smile curled up further at one corner like an interested predator.

“Yes, I do.” When Brontide could not immediately find something to say Quetzal tilted their slender head and asked, “You're certain you did not have a question for me?”

Are you a god? Have you been reincarnated before? Do you have abilities even in this body? Do you like the wind because it reminds you of how powerful you were when the Aztec empire was at its glorious height?

“No,” Brontide said, and then upon taking a steadying breath and with the most tentative of smiles, “Not just yet.”


[mention of Quetzalcoatl's named-after-thunder brother is a reference to the god's brother in
Aztec mythology, Xolotl, who was the god thunder and lightning and very very frightening cx]
[surrounding quote is from a Rumi poem; can be found here]

Show Name: Ghosts Rising
Barn Name: Ghost
Gender: Stallion
Age: Nineteen
Halter: Blue like eyes/Surprise me

Bloodlines: Foundation / Import
Coat Colour: Smoky Cream
Markings: Stockings / bend or spots
Eye Colour: Blue

Personality
Inspiring : I don't write quotes, I write legends.
Quiet : Silence is the key to all the greatest answers.

I Once Asked My Father, What Makes Me A Stallion?
He Replied, When You Learn To Respect The Rider,
When You Discover There Is More Than One Possibility,
When You Learn To Love Your Leader Like Yourself,
When You Memorise Each Crack, Bend, Horse And Man.
Only Then Will You Be A Real Stallion.

Adaptable : New barn, whatever its only where I sleep.
Humble : I am the same as the rest of you, no one horse is better than the next.
Analyser : I will look at this from all angles and find the best way around it,
give me a second.

Favourite Activity, His Job
Ghost's all time favourite thing to do is tours and trails. His father was known as one of the best trail horse so it was only natural that once he passed, Ghost took his place as the lead. He has proven himself more than able of navigating through all sorts of terrains, dealing with everything from slippery slopes to rocky cliffs, he is a true representation of what the Icelandic horse is capable of.

When Ghost's steady feet became more known about, he was often called for search and rescue missions which would require a horse able to withstand the extremes of weather. For this reason he is usually send to Iceland during the winter months when the snow is thick and the trails of which hikers have gotten lost on is dangerously hidden by it. Ghost has always been a very adaptable stallion who has likely saved my life's in ensuring he tests things before going through with them.

When Ghost first started with his career as a search and rescue horse, on one of the first missions he was sent on to help a trapped musher the man was all too eager to thank the stallion in the most unlikely of ways; By tucking a young pup into his saddlebag, believing that the dog would bring the horse good luck on his travels.

Username:
Cojinxleafbelle
Name:
Vitalija
Gender:
Female
A gif/picture that reminds you of them: