[~Trompy]

c

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: July.
1st Person POV story (max 800 words):

French and Indian War wrote:
In 1753, French forces began moving into the Ohio Country which was claimed by Virginia and the other English colonies. Responding to these incursions, Dinwiddie dispatched George Washington north with a letter instructing the French to depart. Meeting with key Native American leaders en route, Washington delivered the letter to Fort Le Boeuf that December. Receiving the Virginian, the French commander announced that his forces would not withdraw. Returning to Virginia, Washington was placed command of a construction party and sent north again in 1754 to aid in building a fort at the Forks of the Ohio.

My bistre hooves pawed the ground in anticipation, as I stand silently below an emerald oak tree. I resisted the urge to pace around the prosperous ground, but this is unusual. My rider, and master, George Washington, was still in his meeting in the looming mansion above, breaking his promise of only being a few hours. But no, he had been in their for five, which was unacceptable. I let out a snort, but kept to my training, being the obedient young stallion I was meant to be, tied to the horse post. It was 1773, and the rebellious French started to move into Ohio Country, already claimed by Virginia, a few other colonies my master had mentioned. He was so stressed these days, trying to keep everyone under control, but it wasn't working out as well as he planed.

A loud creak echoed throughout the air, and I noticed George, briskly walking towards me, staring ahead in thought. "July..." He muttered softly, but my sharp ears caught it. I was named July. Master said it described me, strong and brave, but a bit arrogant and head-strong. And who was I to argue? "Dinwiddie dispatched me north... French.. instructing... depart." The few words were hard to understand, but it was simple. He gripped my saddle, and swung onto my back, digging his heels into my chestnut flank.



The wind, it was cold and unforgiving, hitting us hard with it's cold touch. December, at Fort Le Boeuf, George delivered his letter. And of receiving the Virginian, the French Commander smirked and said his forces would not withdraw. And while galloping back to Virginia, my mind was not on much. I heard many things, with the Native Americans, but I was mainly compensating about one thing. Are George and I alike?

1774.
Back in the North again, Ohio, and I'm back sitting under a tree, but this is a soft, cameo willow, watching my master work on a construction project, building yet another fort, but at Forks. Tiresome, but I do it, for America. They are my family, my world, they are everything to me, and my Master. We will continue to work, to rise in the ranks of countries. To be the bravest.

Here you guys go! Since I have been inactive for these guys, I decided to release America. His spotted Blanket is quite unusual, right? This won't end until July 1st, so you have some time. Edits are allowed. His owner will be announced on his birthday, the 4th.

Your ticket to getting this boy is to read the following historical paragraph and transform it in any way into a first person POV from the eyes of this Country horse (you don't have to use all of the paragraph, you can use just one of the sentences for your inspiration if you want). Pretend that he is the chosen mount of George Washington.

In 1753, French forces began moving into the Ohio Country which was claimed by Virginia and the other English colonies. Responding to these incursions, Dinwiddie dispatched George Washington north with a letter instructing the French to depart. Meeting with key Native American leaders en route, Washington delivered the letter to Fort Le Boeuf that December. Receiving the Virginian, the French commander announced that his forces would not withdraw. Returning to Virginia, Washington was placed command of a construction party and sent north again in 1754 to aid in building a fort at the Forks of the Ohio.

Code: Select all

    [b]Country:[/b] United States of America
    [b]Gender:[/b] Male
    [b]Age:[/b] 237 years
    [b]Name:[/b]
[b]1st Person POV story (max 800 words):[/b]

[Unicornia]

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: United
1st Person POV story (max 800 words): was born in america and was leader and still is now

[~Trompy]

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: United
1st Person POV story (max 800 words): was born in america and was leader and still is now

You can't call that a story. Which means you either didn't read the rules on how to adopt this guy or you just don't care enough.


I don't want to be rude, but come on people! If you are just going to enter something sad like that which could be easily beaten in effort by absolutely anyone else, don't bother entering at all. It wastes my time and sadly makes a fool of yourself. I understand some people don't know English very well or get writers block, but come on. This is just sad. Even the name is sad! Have just a little creativity please?

~Mini rage over and out~

[.Survivor.]

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: Old Glory
1st Person POV story (max 800 words):

In 1753, French forces began moving into the Ohio Country which was claimed by Virginia and the other English colonies. Responding to these incursions, Dinwiddie dispatched George Washington north with a letter instructing the French to depart. Meeting with key Native American leaders en route, Washington delivered the letter to Fort Le Boeuf that December.

"Yes sir. I will make sure they leave." I hear my master, George Washington say as I perked my ears and listened. I whinnied in greeting as he walked over to me, his face graven and pale. I tilted my head to the side, worried, and he seemed to notice. " it's okay Boy. We have to get them to leave, there's no other way." He said as he gently patted my face before getting onto the saddle strapped to my back. It was the year 1753, the enemy was starting to invade and we had to push them back. I knew this was going to be a long and rough journey, as he guided me into the wilderness. I myself being a veteran war horse, knew what the rigors of war could do and where the path of war could take one. Many days had passed and we were in Indian Territory, I could smell them and their horses. The horses that never seemed to be terrified, yet could never last in a war. I perked my ears as I saw two of the Indians coming towards our lookout on the wooded hill and stamped my hoof in warning. My Master apparently knew them because neither side attacked the other, in fact, My Master extended his hand in Greeting to the two Indians. They talked throughout the night an decided that in the morning they would accompany us on our journey. They whistled an two horses came running, only to stop inches from bowling them over. One was a sorrel stallion and the other was a beautiful Golden Palimino paint mare. She was beautiful. But, I knew that if I fell in love, I would lose her.

We continued our journey to deliver the letter to the enemy. As we came to a small creek that we must cross, for the first time in my life, I knew fear. I could smell them. The enemy. I balked, nearly throwing my surprised master into the creek and refused to move. I could scent the murder and danger in their hearts. They did not come in peace. And now, we were surrounded. I regained my composure an stood tall as they surrounded us even closer, my breath as a sweeping mist in the falling snow.


(Did this in my phone so if it is over the limit, I will cut it down when I can et to my laptop.)

[HP is a potato]

Oh my gosh! America?!? CHICKEN NUGGETS YEAH!!

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: America the Beautiful
1st Person POV story (max 800 words):

“ALL MEN DOWN!” I hear General George Washing yell from the other end of the Patriot side. My master pulls my reins and we run to the other side of the barricade as a volley of bullets follows the command. My master dismounts quickly -somehow we hadn't been hit, thank God. He takes my muzzle in his hands and looks me in the eyes. “Good luck boy...” He whispers anxiously. He stared into my eyes a moment longer, then releases me and grabs his musket from his pile of things. I give a concerned whinny as he walks away, and he glances back. That was the last I saw of him. I hear the command again as the advancing British soldiers fire aim their muskets and fire again. Washington glances around nervously, then pulls the Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Knowlton aside. He whispers something anxiously and Knowlton nods. “RETREAT!!” He calls to the men. Some look up with confused expressions. The British take this chance to fire up at us from Kip's Bay. My master falls and I neigh loudly, trying to get to him. One of the nurses grabs my resins and holds me back. Knowlton repeats the command, with a quick glare at me. “RETREAT!!” The men jerk into action and run in the direction of a place known as Hollow Way. As we run, many men seem to come to a realization. This is a trick. We continue to run with higher spirits, as we enter Hollow Way, we can barely hear the British roaring in triumph as they pile into Manhattan. George Washington looks at Knowlton, then at his men. Finally, his eys lie on me. He makes is way over to me and climbs on my back, knowing my master would no longer have use for me. He makes his way to the front again. In one command, we all rush forward “CHARGE!”

Amazingly, we drove the British back with merely 1,800 men against 5,000 British soldiers. The Patriots were once again victorious, and had one yet another battle with a rag-tag teem of boys and men who had had merely months of training against fully-trained British officers who had years of experience. One word was whispered across the colonies with fervor; Freedom.

Oh sheesh, I failed, I'll try again tomorrow

[Vintage]

c

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: July.
1st Person POV story (max 800 words):

French and Indian War wrote:
In 1753, French forces began moving into the Ohio Country which was claimed by Virginia and the other English colonies. Responding to these incursions, Dinwiddie dispatched George Washington north with a letter instructing the French to depart. Meeting with key Native American leaders en route, Washington delivered the letter to Fort Le Boeuf that December. Receiving the Virginian, the French commander announced that his forces would not withdraw. Returning to Virginia, Washington was placed command of a construction party and sent north again in 1754 to aid in building a fort at the Forks of the Ohio.

My bistre hooves pawed the ground in anticipation, as I stand silently below an emerald oak tree. I resisted the urge to pace around the prosperous ground, but this is unusual. My rider, and master, George Washington, was still in his meeting in the looming mansion above, breaking his promise of only being a few hours. But no, he had been in their for five, which was unacceptable. I let out a snort, but kept to my training, being the obedient young stallion I was meant to be, tied to the horse post. It was 1773, and the rebellious French started to move into Ohio Country, already claimed by Virginia, a few other colonies my master had mentioned. He was so stressed these days, trying to keep everyone under control, but it wasn't working out as well as he planed.

A loud creak echoed throughout the air, and I noticed George, briskly walking towards me, staring ahead in thought. "July..." He muttered softly, but my sharp ears caught it. I was named July. Master said it described me, strong and brave, but a bit arrogant and head-strong. And who was I to argue? "Dinwiddie dispatched me north... French.. instructing... depart." The few words were hard to understand, but it was simple. He gripped my saddle, and swung onto my back, digging his heels into my chestnut flank.



The wind, it was cold and unforgiving, hitting us hard with it's cold touch. December, at Fort Le Boeuf, George delivered his letter. And of receiving the Virginian, the French Commander smirked and said his forces would not withdraw. And while galloping back to Virginia, my mind was not on much. I heard many things, with the Native Americans, but I was mainly compensating about one thing. Are George and I alike?

1774.
Back in the North again, Ohio, and I'm back sitting under a tree, but this is a soft, cameo willow, watching my master work on a construction project, building yet another fort, but at Forks. Tiresome, but I do it, for America. They are my family, my world, they are everything to me, and my Master. We will continue to work, to rise in the ranks of countries. To be the bravest.

[InkD3ath]

Country: USA
Gender: male
Age: 237 years
Name: Blueskin (one of George's actual horses)
1st person POV story: ok here it is just so you know I am at ACME bowl and I was on my kindle at the time but nevertheless here it is
As we dove into battle against the enemy my heart pounded. I was charged full of energy and I reared high my mane rippiling in the wind. George and I became one together. He rode me like never before. I mean we had rode together but he was pushing his boots into my sides this time and he clearly looked demonic today. As I crashed into a full group of men and a blade grazed my side. It hurt like the riding boots so I kicked into high gear. The general yelled and he too scared me.
Another blade grazed my flank. Another and this time it was a deep gouge and the blood surged out of the wound. I knew that this one was too deep that if I survived no needle and thread would be able to help this wound. I fell to my knees, the general leaped off my back as I fell. I thought I was going to die from the wounds. As I was dieing I saw the most beautiful mare and I died in happiness and bliss from that sight.I never knew what happened to her but I still wander the clouds looking for her

[Scratchpadd]

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name:
1st Person POV story (max 800 words):
WIP!

[RPFLightMyFire]

Country: United States of America
Gender: Male
Age: 237 years
Name: Foremen
1st Person POV story (max 800 words): WIP

[aergia]

Just a question, the way you designed the flag makes it look like the pattern would be upside down if you held it upright?