[leverage]

Username: Kiokami
Equid's name: Zenyatta
Age: 5
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what? She does a dressage goose-step to vent evergy, but it appears to crowds as if she is dancing.
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? The Queen
Story: I can feel the day as a brisk coldness against my skin. The air, heavy with morning dew, presses against my side like a blanket as the door is opened to my paddock, and I am let into the sunlight. Out here, the sun is bright and clear, no long the faint yellow of official light that touches me whenever I enter the human-made stalls. No longer is the air still, it is free, and for a moment, so am I. From here, I have choices, my own will to do as I wish. No longer do four walls contain me! I can choose to run!
A moment’s pause and I feel it called me- the air, the sunlight, the chirp of the birds and the swaying of the grasses under my feet. I can do nothing but answer that call, a voice that pulls me into the earth and sky.
My feet leave the ground, and I barely notice its existence, only the gently thud as I dance upon it before taking into the sky again. Now, I can fly! I gulp the fresh air in great mouthfuls, my own ambrosia in this word. A fresh breeze is against my skin, one of my own making, and I feel my own speed take me. I cannot stop now, now, I have merged with the wind, and we are one in the same! If only I could stretch my legs a bit further, and leap a litter higher, I could take to the sky!
The colors blur around me in a mosaic of the world. The green in the grass, fresh with due, far beneath my feet, comes together with the blue of the sky I can just touch. Shapes pass me, whites and pinks and browns and everything in between, so many shades I can’t possibly count them all, but merely notice their passing like fleeting birds.
I can feel it in my muscles, a building heat against the cool air, fire of my own heart. It cannot take me down, this flame, for it only fuels me! The burning cannot slow me down unless I stop, so I go, cutting it all down into the simple rhythm. The double-time of my racing heart, the triplet beat of my hooves on the ground, the sound of the earth when I have to touch the ground. It is a symphony made for my ears, a song only I can sing.
Though I know I will have to stop, I do not let my mind go that far. Though my freedom is limited by the fences of humans, each moment I receive as I move across the green landscape is one I could never regret. When it is just me and the air and the sky, I know for certain that, at this moment, I am no longer a racer, or a runner, or a human pet. I am everything, and nothing, the sum of it all. I am infinite.

[Henry is Bae]

Username:Battle scars
Equid's name:Zenyatta
Age:4 years
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what?she does a 4 gait trot
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it?Dancer?
Story:

I was born on a cold winter night on november 17th 2011 and my mother was Danna and my father was Looper. Igrew up on this farm and i loved it there. my mother had another foal and it was a colt, i wsas a big sister i winnied over to my brother and plaeyd with him. When i turned 2 years my brother passed away the next week from a sickness. The the farm was under quarentine for a while till all horses got treated. My mother and father were upset and i walked over and nickered'You guys have me still remeber?"i said "we remember your here but your little brother was the most amazing thing that happened to us besides you"myt mother said. I got offenced"But i wasnt the best thing you had only my brother no!" i screamed and raced off as i stood in a corner by the fence. a few hours later a coslt came over he was bigger then me"Whats wrong butieful?"he asked I smiled"My parents dont think i was the best thing that happened"i said"well its ok come on lets go play?"he asked"Sure!"i said. I galloped with him.

I was 3 years old my parents died 3 mponths ago but i had Jack. my little 'friend' butg i was his little 'friend' cause he was bigger then me i winnied and trotted over to him as i saw him with another mare. It was his mother

[Frostbite18]

Username: Frostbite18
Equid's name: Zenyatta
Age: 9 years
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what? Zenyatta would "dance" before her races. At first people were worried that she was lame, but it was quickly discovered that it was just a quirk of this amazing mare.
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? The Queen
Story:

A surge of excitement ripples through me as I feel the pressure of the girth. Nearly time now, I just need to get this energy out, or I will explode! I throw my legs out in front of me, arch my neck in a regal way and dance about my handler. The cheering of my beloved fans fills my heart with joy. A slight pull on the lead, it's time to go. I strut down track, my body shivers in anticipation. I move into the gate easily, the sound of the gate snapping shut. That moment of silence, the worst part. When will the gate open! A ringing and the gate flies open, I jump forth and I am flying. The others are ahead of me, but that is the plan. I barley even notice the weight of Mike on my back, only the wind in my mane and the sound of hooves hitting dirt. The reins are loosened, my time is now! I lengthen my strides, I am the queen of the track as I regally pass one horse after the other. Two of my strides is four of theirs! I am there now, two more horses, I feel power surging through my muscles as I launch forth. Closer and closer the finish is right there. I put all of my heart and soul into my stride, so fast that my feet barely touch the ground, like I am lying. At last I catch Gio Ponti, our eyes meet as I fly past him, the announcers voice thunders out over the track, "THIS,IS,UNBELIEVABLE!", I win by a length. The crowd goes wild with joy, I am the first mare to ever win the Breeders Cup Classic. Mike is ecstatic, he leans down and pats my neck, telling me how amazing I am, don't I know it. (From my favorite race she won, that race call though *tears of joy*) (May edit)

[whisky]

Username: Whisky
Equid's name: Zenyatta Mondatta
credit
Age: 6
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what?
"She does these leg kicks in the paddock before races; horse people see an animal doing dressage steps to expel excess energy but fans see … a dancer."
Credit. She was known to do this before the race; as well as in the winners circle qwq
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? "The Queen."
credit
Story:

I will dominate the feild.

I just wanted to win.. it didn't even matter how much I won the race by as long as I won... They described me as bottomless, and unbeatable. But even I knew that I was about to have a fall.

I closed my eyes, carrying out the command of dressage steps to expel energy. I feel almost as if I am dancing, and dance I shall. Every race is a life or death. Never a game. It is not to be taken lightly, but to be dominated. As my handler gives me a light shove into the gates, a feeling of dread overwhelms me. I could never be what they want me to be. The true Zenyatta too good for me to ever imitate. I sigh in defeat as the gates let out and the bell ringing in my ears. Already off to a late start, I remain at the back of the back until a quarter down the track where I lengthen my strides, sweat lathering up and making my coat shine, I was taking the lead. I push harder, knowing I will be what they want me to be, but.. I'm not who I want to be. I pause long enough to think of all of the mocks I had made of other equids with my unbeatable title and how I selfishly bathed in the fame, loving every secomd of it. I cried out, and stopped abruptly, just before my nose crossed the finish line and buckled down to my knees. The crowd went quiet as the true Zenyatta Mondatta in me emerged..

Being shoved harshly into my traveling trailer, I was officially labled as, " Zenyatta II the unbeatable failure." I was beat in the race, and now being retired for the stunts I pulled days after. I refused to run for the track and ran only in my own time in the pasture. I suffered bruises from my masters beatings before he officially gave up on me and truly deemed me as useless.

Though my past may not be the best, I smile as a kind, elderly lady pats my nostrils tenderly. She had taken me in just before being put to sleep. Almost as if reading my mind she hugs my head and I press against her to embrace the warm, welcoming hug. She whispers in my ear and says softly, "You are my champion."

404 words

[spring.]

Username: spring.
Equid's name: Zenyatta (Z for short)
Age: about 10 years
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what? She would dance and strut about.
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? Queen of Racing
Story:
The open field beckoned to her, an invitation to set herself free. She pranced about as her gentle handler brought her closer. She pulled her chin close to her body, waiting for her handler to unclip the lead rope. “Easy, Z.” Her handler cooed, as she held the halter and carefully undid the lead rope. The lead and her hand flashed away from the halter, and Zenyatta was free. She galloped through the carefully manicured field, bucking out in joy. She whinnied with the pure thrill of the gallop, and she felt like she could fly. With every buck, it almost looked like an attempt to fly, and her hooves glided effortlessly. She imagined being one with the clouds as she galloped, but she knew her feet would stay firmly grounded. She didn’t want to ever stop, even for the sweet green waves of grass beneath her. “Zenyatta!” Her handler cried out in pure affection. The mare slowed herself, looking to her handler. Her sides heaved and she was covered in sweat. She whinnied, understanding to an extent. “You’re so beautiful, my baby! You look so majestic!” She called out, and Zenyatta pranced back to her handler. “Oh, but go run! I love it when you run!” Zenyatta turned quickly, adrenaline and pure excitement coursing through her body as the thrill of the run became her reality once again. She loved to run, not to mention the nice bath she always received afterwards… and the quality time with her handler as she grazed and her handler gently groomed her down. It was all very rewarding, and Zenyatta adored all of it.

{271 words}

[orse]

Username: {h o r s e}
Equid's name: Zenyatta
Age: 6
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what? She almost 'dances' before a race.
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? The Queen
Story: Words: 229

Heart of gold, true and pure. Leg of steel, blurring with inhuman speed. Hooves of platinum, never cracking under the intense pressure of the rock hard soil. She is the diamond, surrounded by the rough.

Zenyatta sharply inhaled feeling her lungs fill with oxygen. In, out, in out. She burned. Her whole body did. But somehow, she loved it every time. She loved to run hard, putting her whole body into it. She loved feeling exhausted afterwards knowing what she had done. She glanced at the horses surrounding her. They were drenched in sweat, white fluffy foam falling out of their mouths. She knew it was time to take a chance. She peered at the finishing line, a small tree standing alone in the huge field. Zenyatta braced herself using one last burst of energy to fly out of the pack. She could almost feel invisible wings spread from her back as she pushed once more over the finishing point. The diamond beat the rough.

Zenyatta peered back at the bunch of bachelor stallions, murmuring to each other in confusion. The leader stepped out to confront her. He was mad that the little mare had beaten all of them, and he struck the mare on the shoulder. Before he could think twice, the mare ran off again.

Heart pounding, legs flying. Zenyatta didn't mind. Any excuse to run again.

[SpartanAmethyst]

I had internet troubles last night, I'm hoping this can still be counted? quq

Username: SpartanAmethyst
Equid's name: Zenyatta
Age: 5 years
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what? Dancing!
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? "The Dancing Queen", or often just "Queen".
Story:
I could sense the other horses nearby; the scent of their sweaty hides in the mid-afternoon air, the sound of them snorting and shifting in the sands of the racetrack. Somewhere down the line a stallion gave a short squeal, hip slamming against the metal cages that held each of us in our respective places.

Prancing softly to myself, I focused my mind; this is what I was born for. Amethyst said I looked exactly like the real Zenyatta, the mare that had taken the racing world by storm. The Queen. I even began to dance like her; was I her? Reincarnated? No, she wasn't dead yet- it was hard to comprehend. They say everyone is unique, that there are no two people, or equines, in my case, alike. So why was I so similar to this racing legend? Yes, she was my role model, and as a foal racing along the fenceline, I decided I wanted to be just like her. Back when my coat was pitch black, and I was simply a shadow among the tree-filled pastures.

Eventually the sounds around me began to fade; lost in thought, the painful thunder of the crowd faded into a quiet buzz, and I barely noticed the slamming of gates shutting as more competitors joined the race. My amber eyes stared at the ground, watching the sand shift beneath my hooves as my nerves began to ebb away. Was this how she felt in her first race? All of these horses were so much bigger than me! I was a tiny little thing compared to them, the exact opposite of the Queen. Ears flicking back, I briefly rethought my choices; I'd be trampled easily out there, one wrong step and-

No.

I couldn't think like that. I wanted this! I wanted that rosette, those trophies. I wanted that feeling of "Hey, I'm different but I'm still a racehorse!".

Granted, I'd never race with actual Thoroughbreds, but there were plenty of other races. Like this one; a tackless race held at a local show. The racetrack was real, as was the competition, it just wasn't the same as what my idol ran years ago. In a way, I actually preferred this; no tack, no riders, only the horse and it's intelligence. Nothing to hold me back.

Suddenly the last gate slamming shut ripped me out of my reverie, and my amber eyes steeled. As everything began to quiet- the crowd, my fellow competitors, the birds in the trees even seemed to be holding their breath- I shifted positions, preparing my muscles for the explosion of adrenaline that was soon to come. My ebony ears tilted forward, straining to hear the click of the locks, waiting for my chance to take off. Because yes, I was smaller, but it also meant I was streamlined. The tenseness of the air was tangible, and time seemed to freeze for a moment. Then the bell rang, the gates before me swinging open.

And I took flight.
[500 exactly]

[.Ghost.]

Username: kuroo
Equid's name: Mondatta (Zenyatta was named after The Police album Zenyatta Mondatta, so I chose the other half of the title).
Age: 10
Gender: Mare
Height: 13.2 hh
Zenyatta had a habit of doing something before racing, what? "Dancing"
This habit also gave her a nickname, what was it? Dancing Queen, or The Queen
Story:It's beautiful, the way my feet slide over the earth, the way my mane carelessly streams through the morning crispness, how my coat gleams like dew itself. There is no friction between the ground and myself, we have come to an agreement and refuse to hold each other back. Rather, the earth cheers for me, pushing my slender stones of hooves up and forward, aiming my bullet body towards a horizon whose promises are unbeknownst to either of us. The wind and I have grown friendly as well, it urges me onward from behind; a motherly tenderness.

I do not tire, I run endlessly. How can I dare stop? My legs are machines, metal, cold, utterly commanding and capable. My chest is an intricate, enigmatic cavern lined with erosion from the sharp air my nostrils welcome. Breathing gives a strange sensation, like lightning convulsing inside of me, but I revel in the feeling and could not do without it.
When running, I feel like the stuff of legend. I am a spirit, a god, when I move nature agrees with my purpose and cheers for me.

And then I wake from my dreamy mirage, and I remember what I am as I stand weakly in the corner of a murky field. A fence halts my way as man made things do not enjoy my company like nature does, but it means nothing anyway. Even without the fence, I could not shake the true chains that coil around my legs like Eden's serpent. My hooves, while slender, are not stones. My legs, in fact, are not machines, they are far more comparable to twigs. My chest, while still a cavern, is infested with mold and overgrowth rather than the erosion I desire. My body keeps me from my old habit. Rather than drifting effortlessly over the soil, my feet now shuffle through pads of moss, thick grass, and clumpy dirt. It's not a bad existence, retirement, but it lacks the emotion - the passion - that my former self so graciously enjoyed. Surely I enjoy the kindness shown towards my "dilapidated" form (or so the humans call it), but my stormy heart cries again for the sensation of the track, of racing against my own, of the sweet, sticky, fragrant roses hung upon my neck as some sort of floral medallion. Am I fame seeking? Perhaps. But I want the feeling once again, regardless of my motivation.

And so I lie down in the corner, face nestled in moist grass, and fall back into a soothing sleep, into a universe that will allow me freedom once more.

Congrats!

[mawsoleum]

ahhh, thank you so much! i'm so excited for this new kid, she's so stunning and i'm glad to have her in my herd!
i'll have to make another one of my equids domestic to give her some company *v*

also, can i possible get an unshaded version as well?
thank you again!

[cinnamonroll]

Aww, congrats! I can't say I'm not sad, but I'm glad she's with a really good home <3
Your story was awesome!