[Neara]

Mushroom has been found in only a few breeds: Shetland Pony, Haflinger and possibly the American Quarter horse. Most commonly being mistaken for Silver Dapple, the recessive Mushroom gene actually does not carry any silver and acts on a chestnut; not black base color. Their bodies are always a flat beige or sepia color with their mane and tail being a lighter hue. It is unknown about this color's rarity, partly because most mushroom horses are misidentified as silver dapples.

^^ it exists! XDDD
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Your Name: Lichenfeather
Horse's Name: Kufikiria (meaning Imagine) {aka Erämaa (desert)}
Height: 16.1h
Gender: Mare
Rarity: Uber Rare
Legend/Myth: “Grandmother, I saw one! I saw one!” Balru, son of the chieftain screamed as he sprinted through the camp to the old woman’s hut. “What is this child?” The old lady was sitting in a small chair draped with skins of some animal, her wispy hair white with age. “Are you claiming to have seen a dream, a desert spirit?” The boy nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes! I only saw it for a moment but it had a white mane and tail, and a coat the colour of sand and a big white splash across its bum. It kind of looked like a horse!” The boy was jumping up and down in gleeful excitement. The old lady glared at Balru. “Impossible!” she snapped. “That horse, among all the ghosts, does NOT exist.” She continued to glare until his lip began to tremble. “S-s-s-sorry Grandmother. I just thought… because you always told me stories about them that you would want to know.” His voice hit a high note and took on a whiny edge. “Now child. Do you know the story of the impossible spirit, the impossible one?” Balru shook his head. “Well” croaked the ancient voice “Everyone must know the story of Erämaa, the desert spirit.” Balru sat quietly on a purple pillow.

“When the world was young and the whole desert was an oasis the people and the desert spirits lived in harmony. One year, long before my time, a great shaman was born. For many years he brought great goodness and unity throughout the warring tribes.” Balru’s eyes widened. “What other tribes?”
“We know not of the others any more Balru. It is no part of this story.” Balru sank down into the plump purple cushion as the old lady continued in her rhythmic way. “Until one day he went too far. He wanted tribes to bow before him, to pledge servitude and their lives for his experiments. He asked the desert spirits to do the same, but—“ She was interrupted by Balru. “The spirits could talk?!” he asked, awe in his voice.

“They were not so reclusive back then.” She replied. “But yes, so they say. The spirits were deeply by this request and refused contact with the shaman. He was enraged, for, now he had the tribes under his power, he wanted the creatures of our home to bow before him, but they refused. He had a plan to make his part of the great oasis better than the others, but he needed a desert spirit to do so. When they refused to comply he ordered the tribes to organize a hunt, a hunt for the king of the desert spirits. The tribes, poisoned by his words hunted for two moon cycles. At last, unable to capture the king they took his moon coloured daughter. Her coat was whiter than the stars, flecked with pale darkness, so they say. The shaman took the spirit and placed her in a chamber, made of melted sand. What he did not know was that she would fight as he attempted to suck her life away. Instead of using her life force to make his land more fruitful, he took the life from the land and put it into the spirit. The spirit’s coat turned the colour of the sand but was strangely splashed with the white of her former life. She was the desert now, and the people never saw her again. They found the shaman though, a few days later, killed by a snake. This is the story of Erämaa, the one we call the desert. So, my by, you see why it is impossible to have seen such a spirit, any spirit at all. Because they left us long ago. Went back to their own world I suppose. When The People stole her away.” Balru smiled as the old lady closed her eye, but inside he was sure he had seen Erämaa, absolutely sure.

A ways from the camp the mare called Erämaa by The People and Kufikiria by her own kind, smiled, wondering if she would ever see the dark haired human again. She turned away and melted into the desert.



Foals:

Paxillus
Mira

[AmigoGirl]

I could have swear you were going to do one! XDD

[BlueEyedKite]

Yeeeeeeesssss pleeeeeeease -runs to fill out form-

[Chasing Dreams]

Your Name: Chasing Dreams
Horse's Name: Shinwa
Height: 16.1h
Gender: Mare
Legend/Myth:
Legend has it that Shinwa can control the spirits of former mustangs. She gather's them in her own secret Oasis, in the deepest part of the desert. Promising an after-life filled with only good things. She calls her self "The Dead Profit" as in she's a profit for the dead. Shinwa's sandy color's make's it appear as though she dissapears into the sand. Many mustangs have clamed to have seen Shinwa vanish in thin air.
Shinwa will travel the desert searching to dead horses. She takes their soul, guiding them to her Oasis. Once that soul that joined her "army" they can never go back. There is not much information what she uses the horse soul's for, or how she convinces them to join her, but she just does. You'd have to die, and hope that Shinwa finds you.

[typewriter;]

Your Name: Peanutrider
Horse's Name: Fairy Ring (Fairy)
Height: 16.1h
Gender: Female
Legend/Myth: The Mushroom colored DAMs are very rare. They are said to be freinds of the fairies in the oasises. They guard the fairy rings and frolick with the fairies all day long. The fairies love to play with the flowing long manes of the extremely rare DAMs and the horses always seem to have beautiful colored ribbons braided in to their long manes. The ribbons are every hue of the rainbow and are extremely breathtaking. The fairies use their magic and palm leaves from the trees in the oasises to make the magnificent ribbons.

[Aaiu]

Your Name:
Aizui
Horse's Name:
Venenosa (vee-nah-no-sa) meaning 'poisonous" in Latin
Height:
16.1h
Gender:
Mare (female)
Legend/Myth:

When the world was young and hearts were new...

[Faint]

When does this finish? c:

[Neara]

usually i dot it the next day at midnight, but i may wait until thursday. ill be sure to post 12 hours before i close though ^^

[BlueEyedKite]

Your Name: Kite (my username is BlueEyedKite)
Horse's Name: Kleopatros "Patros" (Masculine form of Cleopatra)
Height: 16.1h
Gender: Stallion
Legend/Myth:

It's whispered among the villagers of the desert oasis that there is a spirit that roams the hills during the wet season. Although it's appearance changes depending on which region of the village you hear the tale, there are many details that remain the same. They say it is a descendent of one of the mares of Diomedes and a desert mustang. Wherever it roams trails of mushrooms follow in its wake. If you are unfortunate enough to walk into a circle of this stallion's mushrooms--you will see the darkness in the depths of its black eyes and then be swallowed up. Should you want to tame such a deadly creature, you will need a snake for a snake is it's Achilles' heel. It is this weakness for serpents that earns it the name Kleopatros in legend. Strangely enough... every wet season it's not uncommon to find mushrooms scattered throughout the land. Be careful where you tread.

(wanted something cool with the coloration OuO)

[Ralonica Thorondor]

Your Name: Ralonica
Horse's Name: Spera (Latin for 'hope')
Height: 16.1h
Gender: Stallion
Legend/Myth: They say he's the rarest of the rare. They say that he brings more rain than any other. They say that his creamy coat brings good luck to whoever sees him. But the greatest, oldest legend of all, is still yet to be disproved. For they say, that this stallion, with his creamy coat and flowing mane, they say that this stallion comes, to the weary and disheartened, the sick child, the old man on his deathbed. They say he comes to them, gives them hope, healing, love. Sparks a new fire in their heart, when the old one has been blown out by the harsh winds of life. And with that hope, the weary and disheartened are given rest, the sick child is healed, the old man can rest in eternal peace. For, though he may bring rain, and luck, its one thing, more than anything, the most precious of them all. He brings Hope.