[Potato.]

New theme: NATIVE AMERICAN PAINTED PONIES.
This theme will have preset halters, paint (can be removed) and/or other native american inspired accessories.
"Paint" and their native inspired decor cannot be passed on.
"Painted Ponies" may not breed together.

username; Dєliяiσus
name; " Donoma " meaning "Sight of the Sun"
gender; Female
eye color: brown
dam: --
sire: --

[Bella278436]

username;Bella278436
name;A Whispering Tale
gender;Mare
halter; preset
do or die mission;
They call her a mystery. Why, simple. Because almost everything about her was a mystery. No one knows who rode her, and no one knows how her tale came to be, but one thing was for sure, she sure was mysterious. This mare was known as Whisper, for all who claimed they saw her, say she was there, but barley noticeable, until she disappeared into the howling wind. A tale as mysterious and unreal as magic, but she, an appaloosa found from an unknown tribe, was a magical thing.

Many years ago, in an unknown tribe, a small conflict had started to arise when a neighboring tribe decided to expand, sometime around early summer, when the sun was at it's hottest. The expansion, although on the other side of the river, upset the original tribe, who had been there for decades, relying on the river. The neighboring tribe expanded along the wide, gentle river bed, and their tribe took up half a mile, much more than the original, unknown tribe had. As the neighboring tribe grew, game, such as deer, wild turkey, and fish, became scarce. The hunters worked harder and longer days on horseback, day after day, to provide the needed meat for their people. Soon, they gave up on fishing, as fish no longer swap down the crystal clear river, and the deer were no longer to be found near by, and hunting too far was not worth the risk of running into any aggressive tribe. They resorted to what the young boys of the tribe often caught, as a sign of maturing and learning how to provide for the village, as they would do when they grew older, small rabbits.

The tribes women, who grew crops such as corn, beans, and squash, now provided the main food for the tribe. And not before long, winter came. The crops that once provided food started to shrivel and turn brown. The people did not know what to do. When both tribes could no longer provide their own tribe with enough food, conflict really started. Soon, small, tiny soft white flakes started to fall and give a cold, gentle coating over everything, just enough to cover the small pieces of dead grass, but not enough to cause any problems. One night, the small amount of food preserved by the original tribe had vanished over night. The people did not know what to do. The river had frozen over, fishing was not an option. They had no choice.

During the next night, a small band of warriors got together. They created a plan, bound to work; it had to. If, they took the risk. The risk of death itself, to save their village from starvation. If they were caught, a war was bound to occur, until one side was defeated. They practiced battle strategies, such as how to stealthily take the food, then leave without a sign of their presence. Galloping horse back, they needed to stay quiet, and make sure they were not seen nor heard, this had to be quiet. The best ways to dismount and keep the horses quiet as they raided the neighboring village, was a difficult task, and the way to do so, was unknown. But it didn't matter. They had to go. Tonight.

That night, 14 warriors set out on horseback towards the semi-frozen river. At first, the air just had a cool breeze to it. But soon, snow flurried down, covering the ground. The horse's hoof prints made a trail to their positions, and the warriors had to ignore the fact of how easily they could be tracked down. Their horses held their heads high and alert, as did the warriors riding them. The horses, almost all different shades of bay, kept walking, pushing back the erg to stop from the cold. Soon, neither horse nor warrior could see much past the thick blanket of snow falling from the sky, they kept walking.

Soon, they arrived at the semi-frozen river. They had to cross it. The path around the river was too long, they wouldn't make it in the snow. The 14 warriors looked towards each other's pale white faces, each with rosy cheeks. The horses pranced in place as the snow fell, and no one moved. Among the 14 men, was one who had a rather large family, the largest family of all the warriors. He had two twin girls, the age of 6, a young baby girl, and one son, a 14 year old son. Together, father and son would practice together for battle, and the father would offer hunting advice for his son, so one day, his son could feed his own family, and his sisters and mother. But something about his son was different. Unlike many boys his age in the village, he did not play games of battle, nor did he spend his free time with his friends, he had only few. His true friends, the horses, a mare in particular.

The mare he spend most of his time with. Together, they and the wisdom to speak to each other, even though they spoke different languages, together, they had confidence to concur any obstacle in their path. She was fast, they practiced galloping bareback together up and down hills and hills, before returning before their absence was noticed. They were an unlikely pair, but somehow, they were one. How they met, no one really knows. It is a mystery. The boy claimed when he was little, and had wondered off, she appeared, and brought him back to his mother and father, where he was safe. But the boy did not want to be safe. He wanted adventure, an unknown thrill, that he was yet to feel.

The boy awoke in the middle of the might. The mare, who always seemed to wander off during the night, and return, and woke him by snorting and whinnying outside. The boy, careful to not disturbed his sisters or mother who were fast asleep, cuddled in a small, worn blanket for warmth against each other. He peered around, unsure where his father was. He took a step outside. He stroked her woolly, no longer soft, but wet and freezing face, and ran his hand down her body, feeling her thick winter coat. The chestnut leopard appaloosa looked at him, then towards the river. She turned, and stood. The boy knew, he looked down at the ground, and saw a light trail of foot prints, only a few feet in front of him, he could not see much past the mare's head.

Turning away from the mare, who was frozen still, her gaze forwards, he went into the slightly warm tipi, and picked up three hand-made containers. Outside once again, he looked at the mare, studying her. His already red fingers landed on the top of the first container, and he removed the lid. His red fingers were covered in a green paint, and he walked over to the mare's face. He gave her small dots all over her face, to give her endurance, and in hope that hail would fall on the enemy, the neighboring tribe. He peered over to her back, she already had green horse shoes on her from another time when he painted her, so he repainted the running green, and went set down the green paint. Next, he picked up the smallest of the three, a container of purple paint. He had made it himself, purple paint meant power, mystery, and magic, and was never used for war paint. But this mare was a mystery, she had great power, and she was magical, so he painted some onto her legs. As he set down the purple container, he picked up the final color, blue. Somehow, he managed to create a perfect circle around the mare's eye, that would help her see past the snow, and give her wisdom and confidence. Lastly, he spread blue paint on his hand, and created an upside down hand print on her shoulder. Slowly, he placed his head above the hand print, and took an unsteady breath. He kissed the mare's hand print he had just painted on, and stood up straight again.Quickly and quietly, the boy grabbed a lock of the mare's mane, right next to one of the feathers he always put in her mane, and took a step back. He launched himself with a running start onto her back, and she cantered in the cold. Not once did he look back, he knew where his father was, and what he was doing.

Once he had arrived at the river, he saw dozens of sets of hoof prints in the snow, all scrambled together. He saw prints walking across the river, and he stopped, deciding if it was safe or not. If there were any cracks in the ice, he would not be able to see them. Across the river, he could hear past the howling, fridge wind, a faint shriek, and galloping hooves. All of a sudden, he could see past the white snow in front of him, and an orangey glow came from the other side of the river. The noise of galloping hooves got louder and louder by the second, and the small flame grew. Without hesitation, the 14 year old urged the mare into a gallop, his heels creating a thumping noise against her sides as she bolted forwards, going right in front of the river. As her first brown hoof landed on the ice, a sudden crack, and a splash of freezing water shot into the boy's face. The mare let out a high pitch whinny, and she bucked the boy off. He landed with a hard thump on the other side, as he fell, a large snow cloud puffed up, and he scrambled to get to his feet. Fear shot up across the boy's red face, and he looked frantically around, his gaze going right past the river. The mare, no longer there, but the hole large.

He looked around. Slowly, the howling wind died down, and the snow fell less and less. Soon, the boy collapsed onto his knees, and covered his face. His warm, shaky breath against his hands did not warm them, it made them cold, as if he were frozen, unable to move.


Info for me:

Blue Color Symbolised wisdom and confidence
Green Color Symbolised endurance, and is seen as a great healing power and believed to improve vision - green circles might be painted around the eyes of a horse
Purple color symbolised power, mystery and magic

Omigod... this is why I need a limit to how much I can write... I can go on forever... curse you writing! >.< I'm really sorry I wrote soo much! :c
Hope I'll have time to finish in the morning

EDITS: All my edits are me adding to the story, is there a limit? I have a hard time writing short stories, but I'm going to try to keep this short c: Also, is there an end date??

[Captain Chomp]

Reserve got a nice idea set in the future for this babe and yeah super excited, reserve with the name:
Death Paints With Steady Hand //Grim
Rides into a mission and rider dies, set in the future
Rider paints the horse with the markings due to his own heritage of being Native American [Partial, doesn't look like it]
Horse becomes injured and lost
Do not steal I will not be happy

[DeadlyArcana]

username;
name; Waccamaw
gender; Mare
halter; preset
do or die mission;

Dropping out

Good luck everyone!!

[Khans]

res

[summer.]

username;
name;
gender;
halter; preset
do or die mission; there they were, walking slowly through the fog blanketed field.

[vincent,]

username; blazen
name; Alaqua
gender; mare
halter; preset
do or die mission; around the 18th century the Native American settlers and the government were having conflicts which led to wars. The Native Americans wanted to protect their country and their lands and they went to war. It was a do or die mission to go to the war for them.

[heyheygirl101]

username; heyheygirl101
name; Sitting Bear // Satank
gender; Stallion
halter; preset
do or die mission; Satank's rider looking for retribution for his son's death, turned against the white man he had once trusted and fought for, and instead fought against them. He was the leader in many different raides however the this perticular one does not have a happy ending. The Warren Wagon Trail in Texas was ripe with pickings and Satank's rider knew this all to well, he and his war party had been attacking wagon parties for weeks, and had done so with complete success, they had both gotten goods and never been caught. It was only when the war party returned that they finally ended up being caught. Satank's rider bragged of his spoils to other lesser members of the tribe and soon they told the General of the settlement of what had happened. Satank's rider had known this was coming and thought himself ready to accespt his fate, and to be reunited with his son, however when he saw Sherman and his calvary coming he could not sit idly and watch, for they were going to burn the village, and that was all his own fault. Satank was quickly mounted as he had been following his rider anticipating this result as well, then they went around warning all of the people to run and get away as fast as they could, while the other ponies around him were quickly mounted as well. Satank reared and off they rode to meet their enemy and most likely their death. Now Satank's rider as well as the others were doing quite well until the tides all of a sudden changed and the white men started to slay more and more brotherain around them. Satank was trained for all of this, he fought agressively kicking both horses and riders, protecting his own, until all of a sudden Satank's rider was no longer on his back, Satank saved his rider's life long enough for him to be told to run, his rider aggressivly hit him with the blunt end of his tomahawk and Satank ran out of fear of his riders fury, something he had never seen. He would later learn from captured ponies that had escaped that his rider had been tried and then killed for his crimes. There is forever a whole in Satank's heart that cannot be filled, because that peice of his heart died when his rider, Sitting Bear, did.

[guilttripping]

username; OvercastKid
name; Twilight Put On Your War Paint 'Spirit'
gender; Mare
halter; presets
do or die mission;

The mare stood patiently as her rider put her paint on. For some reason he seemed agitated and nervous. This wasn't like him. She snorted and put her muzzle on his shoulder. He pushed her off. Something definitely was not right. He put his hand in the blue paint and turned it upside down. The mare knew what was happening. He put the paint on her shoulder. Spirit shuddered a bit. Do or die he said simply.

The Battle of Little bighorn was a famous clash between the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne and Arapaho and The United States Army in 1876. It was the most prominent action in the Great Sioux War. The Tribes led by Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, Chief Gall, Lame White Man and Two Moon were victorious. It resulted in 268 USA military deaths and 36-138 (estimated) Native American deaths including Lame White Man.

[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

dropping