[all patched up]

Ok, so FrostDragon636 made this adoptable. Extras will increase your chances. FrostDragon636 will choose who wins. I may try out for him. C:

Owner:sapphirespirit
Show Name: Verglas Ruban -(French: Black Ice Ribbon)
Barn Name:Rouge (French for Red)
Gender: Stallion
Breed:Comtois X Gypsy
Colouration: Silver Black Dapple
Story with Art:
Faint bells break the early morning silence, a thin mist settled over the make shift paddock. The early morning rays painted the sky with extreme shades of pinks, reds, and oranges; though, their heat hadn't yet reached the frosted ground below. Within this paddock, and the two cradling it, were teams of horses that made life here so tranquil and easy. The horses here were ones the rest of the world didn't want. Breeds and crosses off all sorts resided within the Gypsy camps. Rouge was one of them. He once belonged to a wealthy French family. Was a dandy show horse for a while, too. He loved the little girl who had cared for him. But she grew sick , and stopped coming out to groom him. she stopped riding him. and eventually she stopped coming to him. The man of the house took him to market one day.. He had nothing left of the family save for memories of their tear stained faces and distant ones of a laughing ,happy and healthy girl.

A soft whistle caught Rouge's attention. His head lifted lazily, ears perked forward. He had a good life here. He was sold for cheap to the Gypsy clan - no other Frenchmen had wanted some half bred child's toy. They took good care of him, though. They took in all the unwanted and made them feel worth something. Truth be told, Rouge liked nothing more than being a caravan horse. The light horses drew the carts, and the heavy horses- like Rouge, drew the caravans. A pest buzzed by his ear, and he shook out his mane, lifting his still weary limbs to move towards the simple paddock fence . Today was a grand day in the Gypsy community. A parade day. Their customs were still unfamiliar to Rouge, but he appreciated the attention they gave him. And in return, he did as they asked of him.

He made his way to the fence to greet a young boy with a simple head collar, fashioned of rope. He allowed the boy to lead him off, and to be tethered to a post. He was bathed and groomed- his mane and tail were trimmed and fashioned with fantastic red ribbons that only made his coat pop all the more. The excitement buzzed around the encampment-spreading from the young peoples to the horses- to the elders , and even the dogs and cats that accompanied the clan. Everyone was in high spirits for the day. HE ate his morning mash while the stable boys polished and cleaned driving tack that was decorated with engraved silver. And after that he stood for the boy to place his tack.


Some odd hours later, Rouge was prancing through the streets, drawing behind him a finely carved and decorated caravan. The elder fortuneteller had taken a liking to his calm and gentle nature, and thus he was to lead the parade. His head was held high, and his hoofs struck in tandem with his team mate's own hooves. A crowd had gathered on either sides of the streets- cheers and clapping both greeted and dismissed the caravans as they passed, the scents of various vendors wafted towards them, caressing their velvet noses enticingly. Rouge felt at home here, with these strange speaking, oddly dressed people. HE didn't mind their dancing bears, or their fiery half clothed dances at night. He enjoyed their tales and legends, and the simple camp life they lived.
He Missed his little girl, but here- Rouge belonged here.

Art:
Sketch

[shadow59]

Owner: shadow59
Show Name: flying through the air
Barn Name: sky
Gender: Stallion
Breed: wip
Colouration: Silver Black Dapple
Story with Art: wip

[sapphirespirit]

Owner:sapphirespirit
Show Name: Verglas Ruban -(French: Black Ice Ribbon)
Barn Name:Rouge (French for Red)
Gender: Stallion
Breed:Comtois X Gypsy
Colouration: Silver Black Dapple
Story with Art:
Faint bells break the early morning silence, a thin mist settled over the make shift paddock. The early morning rays painted the sky with extreme shades of pinks, reds, and oranges; though, their heat hadn't yet reached the frosted ground below. Within this paddock, and the two cradling it, were teams of horses that made life here so tranquil and easy. The horses here were ones the rest of the world didn't want. Breeds and crosses off all sorts resided within the Gypsy camps. Rouge was one of them. He once belonged to a wealthy French family. Was a dandy show horse for a while, too. He loved the little girl who had cared for him. But she grew sick , and stopped coming out to groom him. she stopped riding him. and eventually she stopped coming to him. The man of the house took him to market one day.. He had nothing left of the family save for memories of their tear stained faces and distant ones of a laughing ,happy and healthy girl.

A soft whistle caught Rouge's attention. His head lifted lazily, ears perked forward. He had a good life here. He was sold for cheap to the Gypsy clan - no other Frenchmen had wanted some half bred child's toy. They took good care of him, though. They took in all the unwanted and made them feel worth something. Truth be told, Rouge liked nothing more than being a caravan horse. The light horses drew the carts, and the heavy horses- like Rouge, drew the caravans. A pest buzzed by his ear, and he shook out his mane, lifting his still weary limbs to move towards the simple paddock fence . Today was a grand day in the Gypsy community. A parade day. Their customs were still unfamiliar to Rouge, but he appreciated the attention they gave him. And in return, he did as they asked of him.

He made his way to the fence to greet a young boy with a simple head collar, fashioned of rope. He allowed the boy to lead him off, and to be tethered to a post. He was bathed and groomed- his mane and tail were trimmed and fashioned with fantastic red ribbons that only made his coat pop all the more. The excitement buzzed around the encampment-spreading from the young peoples to the horses- to the elders , and even the dogs and cats that accompanied the clan. Everyone was in high spirits for the day. HE ate his morning mash while the stable boys polished and cleaned driving tack that was decorated with engraved silver. And after that he stood for the boy to place his tack.


Some odd hours later, Rouge was prancing through the streets, drawing behind him a finely carved and decorated caravan. The elder fortuneteller had taken a liking to his calm and gentle nature, and thus he was to lead the parade. His head was held high, and his hoofs struck in tandem with his team mate's own hooves. A crowd had gathered on either sides of the streets- cheers and clapping both greeted and dismissed the caravans as they passed, the scents of various vendors wafted towards them, caressing their velvet noses enticingly. Rouge felt at home here, with these strange speaking, oddly dressed people. HE didn't mind their dancing bears, or their fiery half clothed dances at night. He enjoyed their tales and legends, and the simple camp life they lived.
He Missed his little girl, but here- Rouge belonged here.

Art:
Sketch

[all patched up]

Bump

[all patched up]

Owner:sapphirespirit
Show Name: Verglas Ruban -(French: Black Ice Ribbon)
Barn Name:Rouge (French for Red)
Gender: Stallion
Breed:Comtois X Gypsy
Colouration: Silver Black Dapple
Story with Art:
Faint bells break the early morning silence, a thin mist settled over the make shift paddock. The early morning rays painted the sky with extreme shades of pinks, reds, and oranges; though, their heat hadn't yet reached the frosted ground below. Within this paddock, and the two cradling it, were teams of horses that made life here so tranquil and easy. The horses here were ones the rest of the world didn't want. Breeds and crosses off all sorts resided within the Gypsy camps. Rouge was one of them. He once belonged to a wealthy French family. Was a dandy show horse for a while, too. He loved the little girl who had cared for him. But she grew sick , and stopped coming out to groom him. she stopped riding him. and eventually she stopped coming to him. The man of the house took him to market one day.. He had nothing left of the family save for memories of their tear stained faces and distant ones of a laughing ,happy and healthy girl.

A soft whistle caught Rouge's attention. His head lifted lazily, ears perked forward. He had a good life here. He was sold for cheap to the Gypsy clan - no other Frenchmen had wanted some half bred child's toy. They took good care of him, though. They took in all the unwanted and made them feel worth something. Truth be told, Rouge liked nothing more than being a caravan horse. The light horses drew the carts, and the heavy horses- like Rouge, drew the caravans. A pest buzzed by his ear, and he shook out his mane, lifting his still weary limbs to move towards the simple paddock fence . Today was a grand day in the Gypsy community. A parade day. Their customs were still unfamiliar to Rouge, but he appreciated the attention they gave him. And in return, he did as they asked of him.

He made his way to the fence to greet a young boy with a simple head collar, fashioned of rope. He allowed the boy to lead him off, and to be tethered to a post. He was bathed and groomed- his mane and tail were trimmed and fashioned with fantastic red ribbons that only made his coat pop all the more. The excitement buzzed around the encampment-spreading from the young peoples to the horses- to the elders , and even the dogs and cats that accompanied the clan. Everyone was in high spirits for the day. HE ate his morning mash while the stable boys polished and cleaned driving tack that was decorated with engraved silver. And after that he stood for the boy to place his tack.


Some odd hours later, Rouge was prancing through the streets, drawing behind him a finely carved and decorated caravan. The elder fortuneteller had taken a liking to his calm and gentle nature, and thus he was to lead the parade. His head was held high, and his hoofs struck in tandem with his team mate's own hooves. A crowd had gathered on either sides of the streets- cheers and clapping both greeted and dismissed the caravans as they passed, the scents of various vendors wafted towards them, caressing their velvet noses enticingly. Rouge felt at home here, with these strange speaking, oddly dressed people. HE didn't mind their dancing bears, or their fiery half clothed dances at night. He enjoyed their tales and legends, and the simple camp life they lived.
He Missed his little girl, but here- Rouge belonged here.

Art:
Sketch

Congrats!

[sapphirespirit]

Squee!! Thank you!!!!