Welcome to Direwood Racers Association
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Welcome to Direwood Racers. We are an organization that specializes in racing of the Short manned Echobis. These animals are as larger than horses and are used in our races. They rank in many different colors and we train them to race from the age of one. Echobis are highly aggressive creatures if not trained properly and can be very dangerous towards people if they are wild and have grown without human contact. It was required that all Echobis be registered to keep track of records and aggression. The Echobis are not to be left untrained if owned. This dog like creature is not to be treated like a dog but rather that of a horse, they have a diet of raw meat and are recommended to be fed by hand to strengthen bonds. Echobi pups are the size of regular dogs at birth. They develop their horns if they are males. Direwood’s mission is to improve and spread the excitement of Echobi racing to the community. We hope you enjoy it as much as we do.
My Staff Custom
Username: ShadyBro
Show Name: Dapple Daze
Call Name: Day
Sex: Female
Age: 4 Years
Training: 2
Level One;; I unloaded Day from the trailer, tugging her along at the end of a short lead rope. She was a stubborn thing, and continued to toss her head and flash her fangs at me the whole way to the kennel. I struggled to tie her into the grooming stall, and even then she managed to break the rope. I hated using the weight chains on new arrivals but this was a case in which I had no choice. Once she was finally secure I worked on getting all the muck and mud out of her coat. Her previous 'owners' hadnt groomed her a day in her life, and she was an utter mess. I ended up having to clip her mane, tail and even chest fur down to the base coat. It would grow back eventually of course, but it was quite undignified for such a pretty mare. By the time the rest of her was scrubbed up washed, I was an absolute mess. Thankfully however it had seemed to tire the rambunctious little darling out right quick, and I had no trouble getting her settled in her pen. Grooming her when she is actually awake and active is definitely going to be a challenge though.
Level Two;; As Day stuck her nose over the gate of her pen, I could tell she was in one of her moods. It was rare for her to be calm or obedient anyways, so I wasn't that surprised, but I was still a little disappointed. I kept her head collar hidden behind my back as I tossed a lead over my shoulder. She had barely gotten used to the daily grooming sessions, but it was high time I stopped using the darn weight chains and starting trusting her a little more. I did the usual, leading her over to the grooming stall and brushing her out, but when it came time to release her into the run I dropped her chains and neck brace and started stroking her nose. She hadnt noticed her apparent freedom, but once she did I struggled to keep her still. Miraculously in the midst of the struggle I was able to slip the head collar on and tie her lead securely to the grooming stall steel side bares. She tossed he head and kicked her legs out, whipping me with her tail more than once. Eventually she just tired herself out. I grabbed the lead and began dragging her (quite literally) back to her pen. When I unclipped the lead she snapped at me, growling and pawing at the head collar with some intense determination. I waited until she stopped to open the run gate, and watched as she darted out towards the outer corner of the chain-link. In a few seconds she had managed to tear through the head collar, and just to spite me, she picked it up in her slobbery jaws and spat it out at my feet. The next day, she was fitted with a leather one. It was there to stay.
Username: ShadyBro
Show Name: Dapple Daze
Call Name: Day
Sex: Female
Age: 4 Years
Training: 2
Level One;; I unloaded Day from the trailer, tugging her along at the end of a short lead rope. She was a stubborn thing, and continued to toss her head and flash her fangs at me the whole way to the kennel. I struggled to tie her into the grooming stall, and even then she managed to break the rope. I hated using the weight chains on new arrivals but this was a case in which I had no choice. Once she was finally secure I worked on getting all the muck and mud out of her coat. Her previous 'owners' hadnt groomed her a day in her life, and she was an utter mess. I ended up having to clip her mane, tail and even chest fur down to the base coat. It would grow back eventually of course, but it was quite undignified for such a pretty mare. By the time the rest of her was scrubbed up washed, I was an absolute mess. Thankfully however it had seemed to tire the rambunctious little darling out right quick, and I had no trouble getting her settled in her pen. Grooming her when she is actually awake and active is definitely going to be a challenge though.
Level Two;; As Day stuck her nose over the gate of her pen, I could tell she was in one of her moods. It was rare for her to be calm or obedient anyways, so I wasn't that surprised, but I was still a little disappointed. I kept her head collar hidden behind my back as I tossed a lead over my shoulder. She had barely gotten used to the daily grooming sessions, but it was high time I stopped using the darn weight chains and starting trusting her a little more. I did the usual, leading her over to the grooming stall and brushing her out, but when it came time to release her into the run I dropped her chains and neck brace and started stroking her nose. She hadnt noticed her apparent freedom, but once she did I struggled to keep her still. Miraculously in the midst of the struggle I was able to slip the head collar on and tie her lead securely to the grooming stall steel side bares. She tossed he head and kicked her legs out, whipping me with her tail more than once. Eventually she just tired herself out. I grabbed the lead and began dragging her (quite literally) back to her pen. When I unclipped the lead she snapped at me, growling and pawing at the head collar with some intense determination. I waited until she stopped to open the run gate, and watched as she darted out towards the outer corner of the chain-link. In a few seconds she had managed to tear through the head collar, and just to spite me, she picked it up in her slobbery jaws and spat it out at my feet. The next day, she was fitted with a leather one. It was there to stay.
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