[.:CrazyLove:.]

To Adopt Him Write a Story about how he got his halter:

Code: Select all

Username:
Name:
Gender:Stallion
Breed:Mustang x Arabian
Color:Silver Grulla
Story:

[birb.]

Username:jammer2284
Name: Twister
Gender:Stallion
Breed:Mustang x Arabian
Color:Silver Grulla
Story: For years, twister had lived with a terrible halter that he could always scrape off. One day, his halter started scratching his face. He walked to the nearest fence and scraped it off easily. Soon his owner came out to the pasture to fill up his food trough. He picked up the halter. " Twister, you have done this to much, It's time to get you a better halter".
His owner soon returned with a halter and lead rope in his hands. He slips it over my head, and I was surprised to find it wasn't s scratchy, like my old one. This one fit! I tossed my head, and my owner laughed.

[crow;;]

Username:
dance for me.
Show Name:
Partly Cloudy
Barn Name:
Cloud
Gender:
Stallion
Breed:
Mustang x Arabian
Color:
Silver Grulla
Story:
The bit is cold metal in my mouth, and the saddle is heavy on my back. It's the usual feel when training. Her hands brush against my coat, tightening the saddle with care. I toss my head, as she tickled my side accidentally. She giggled, mounting me, clicking her helmet on, her leather boots are smooth against me. She clicks her tongue, as I go into a steady walk around the ring. Then she clicks two more times, as I quickly go into a canter. He turns me gently toward the jump. The bit rubs against the back of my mouth. As I go toward the jump, she raises herself, gripping the reins. It's a normal sized jump, as I easily leap over it. She then changes my direction to another jump. A double. You have to jump over two. I have difficulty with these, almost always hitting the end one. I truck on forward, concentrating on the jump. I can do this. I leap with great faith, but sadly, I feel my feet nip the back jump. The jump falls, landing in a poof of dust. She slows me to a stop, jumping off to fix the fence. I gnaw on the bit, as it pinches my tongue. I toss my head thing to loosen it. But it does no good. She watches me, then took of the bridle, and my saddle, and put me in the pasture.

We didn't train for three more days, until she walks in with a medium sized box in her hands. She sits on my stall door, opening it. It's a purple bridle. She slips it on, and the bit doesn't hurt at all. It's cold and hard like the last one, but fits just right. I toss my head with happiness, as she laughs, patting my nose. I'm so happy to be with my girl. So happy.

[MeltiTheDragon]

Username:
Diamondshine101
Show Name:
Platinum Fury of Light
Barn Name:
Furyish
Gender:
Stallion
Breed:
Mustang x Arabian
Color:
Silver Grulla
Story:
I was always a rash stallion. No one wanted me. They thought I couldn't be ridden. But in reality,I hated the bit. Soon I found a young girl. She was the daughter of a pro trainer. She put a bitted bridle on me and rode to the pasture. She pulled the reins quickly and I bucked her. Same thing happened when she did it much slower. Then she put on a leather halter with reins attached. That felt great. A week later she came into the barn with a box. She showed me a purplish-black leather halter with black foam pads and purple/black striped reins. Then I was the sweetest stallion,or at least I thought I was!

[Arrows]

USERNAME:
me <3

SHOW NAME:
Dash for the Cash

BARN NAME:
Chisisi [meaning "secret" in Native American. Read story!]

GENDER:
Stallion

BREED:
Mustang x Arabian

COLOR:
Silver Grulla

STORY:
I was abused.
As my owner shoved the hot metal bit into my mouth, I recoiled in pain. Of course, he ignored me and continued. Soon, the weight of the blankets, saddle, and himself sat on my back. I snorted, but he simply spurred me. As we rode on, I grew more and more tired. He pushed me on until it was evening and I could barely move my stiff, sore legs.
Finally, I was unsaddled and released into the partly-bare pasture. I sighed hungrily and arched my neck down to eat what was in the pasture. My owner hadn't planted more in a while. Soon I was semi-full and I lifted my grey head.
My show name was Dash for the Cash, but I was more known as Cashman. My owner had always wanted me to be great and win him money; these days, that's all he wanted. So he worked me until day's end so I could do my best. But I was always exhausted, and I never had fun.
Saddle sores covered me, rubbed raw. My withers were bruised from constant spurring, as was my rump from constant whipping.
I jerked my head up suddenly as I heard a slow creak. I slowly realized that, to my surprise, someone had opened the gate of my pasture. I could be free!
But it could also be a trap. I narrowed my curious, soft eyes, flattening my ears. What if my owner was up to something? I became nervous and slightly backed away. I spent half the night pondering whether to go out or not. It could be a risk; what if it was dangerous? I finally nickered and dropped my head, walking forward. I would just have to take risks. That's what I did, right? I had always been a risk taker. But that was before I had been broken. Now? Well, I had become distrusting of humans; they were abusive and terrible.
So it was a stereotype; so what? And that's when I met her.

I trotted through the gate suspiciously; nothing happened. I walked around a bit, but there was nothing. Nothing but wide, open spaces! I couldn't help but let out a series of small, happy whinnies. I walked forward slowly; although I was still slightly cautious, I had to admit I had relaxed a bit.
Then, I saw a dark shape slowly morph from the shadows. In terror and anger, I reared up an slammed down. But the shape, that I could now see was a small girl, stood fearlessly in front of me. She was obviously Native American; I had once fantasized about being owned by a small tribe my mother had told me about.
The girl held a rebellious, fearless, and bold demeanor. She also held a spark of defiance in her eye; she was like me.
I snorted and bobbed my gray head while watching her skeptically.
"I won't hurt you," She told me calmly, observing my actions. I shook my head. All humans were the same, right? "I see what he does. It's terrible. Please, come with me." The Native American girl held out her hand. She had emphasized he so bitterly; no one had ever cared about it as much as she seemed she did. I tentatively pushed my muzzle against her hand.
The girl, obviously slightly surprised and happy, eagerly grabbed a bit and shoved it towards my face. Afraid and surprised, I jerked my head and backed against the pasture's fence. My ears flattened as I gave her a cold and distrusting demeanor once more. My eyes were dark and looked like a battlefield. I had been abandoned once, and abused. I couldn't let it happen again.
The girl sighed, "Well, Mr. Mysterious, I know you've been hurt. But can't you trust me? It'll only be 'til we get back to my tribe." I stood rigidly. The girl gave a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping. She knew I wasn't going anywhere with that bit in my mouth.
"Fine. Just, please, stay?" She asked hopefully.
I had a better idea. As she began to walk away quietly, I trotted after quietly. I soon snorted, and the girl turned slightly. Seeing me, she giggled and continued. Then she started to run, and I simply ran with her. The Native American girl soon collapsed in exhaustion and laughter.
I nuzzled her and helped her up with small nudges and allowing her to lean on me momentarily. "Ya know, Mr. Mysterious, I'm called Citali. It means "star" in my language. I should call you something better than Mr. Mysterious, though. Hmm..." I stood alertly as she thought. Although very arrogant, I was patient.

"I'll call you Chisisi. It means "secret." So I was now deemed with the name "Chisisi." You know what? I liked it. I pranced towards her camp, bearing my new name proudly. It made sense.

Soon enough, I was standing in a large pen. The pasture here was full and rich, and I could eat to my heart's content. I had to admit it was nice, even if I probably was standing around, getting fat. I snorted happily at the thought. I had been here for a few days now. Children, along with Citali, had come to see me. Although cautious and suspicious, I'd nuzzled them and allowed them to pet me. It was nice to get all this sweet attention.
I was surprised that Citali hadn't come and tried to ride me yet. I jerked my head up as the familiar crunch of boots came up. "Chisisi," She cooed sweetly. I watched her carefully. Her hands were behind her back, and a huge smile was plastered across her gorgeous face.
As I came closer, becoming suspicious, she put her arm in front of my eyes. "Don't look," She murmured, so I stayed where I was. I heard shuffling and slight movement. Light flooded my eyes again as she drew her hand away, and I stared at what was before me.
"I weaved it all by myself," For her age, Citali was one of the most skilled weavers of the tribe. It was amazing what she'd done now. She gingerly held a purple halter with reins in her hands, obviously meant for me. I guess you could call it "weaved;" although it was more braided. But who was I to critique? "Do you like it, Chisisi?" She murmured.
To admit, I did. It had soft padding and looked comfortable enough. I walked closer, sniffing it and sticking my nose in it. "I know you don't like bridles, which I understand. So I made you this! The reins are so I can ride you without having that metal making your poor mouth sore. We'll work on everything!" She exclaimed as she secured the halter on.
It was snug and comfortable; I loved it! Citali cautious climbed the fence and motioned towards my back, as if asking to get on. I weighed options, but finally turned my back towards her. She was my best friend; she wouldn't hurt me, would she?
Citali carefully slipped onto me, gingerly holding the matching purple reins that were tightly woven/braided as well. The tightened her grip slightly on the knots in the reins. I could feel her anticipation coming off in waves. The girl gently kicked me, and I walked forward. As we rode on, I realized I had worried for nothing. Citali was my friend, and nothing like my previous owner. She loved me, and would take good care of me.
Even though I would've allowed her to put a bit in my mouth, Citali kept me on the halter all those years. She was constantly trying to change it, complaining that the halter was old, stinky, faded, and ugly. But each time, I stubbornly refused. I even once jumped to fence to stop her from throwing it away.
That halter would always be my reminder of the day I realized I had a real best friend, and I wanted to die wearing it.

[.:CrazyLove:.]

USERNAME:
me <3

SHOW NAME:
Dash for the Cash

BARN NAME:
Chisisi [meaning "secret" in Native American. Read story!]

GENDER:
Stallion

BREED:
Mustang x Arabian

COLOR:
Silver Grulla

STORY:
I was abused.
As my owner shoved the hot metal bit into my mouth, I recoiled in pain. Of course, he ignored me and continued. Soon, the weight of the blankets, saddle, and himself sat on my back. I snorted, but he simply spurred me. As we rode on, I grew more and more tired. He pushed me on until it was evening and I could barely move my stiff, sore legs.
Finally, I was unsaddled and released into the partly-bare pasture. I sighed hungrily and arched my neck down to eat what was in the pasture. My owner hadn't planted more in a while. Soon I was semi-full and I lifted my grey head.
My show name was Dash for the Cash, but I was more known as Cashman. My owner had always wanted me to be great and win him money; these days, that's all he wanted. So he worked me until day's end so I could do my best. But I was always exhausted, and I never had fun.
Saddle sores covered me, rubbed raw. My withers were bruised from constant spurring, as was my rump from constant whipping.
I jerked my head up suddenly as I heard a slow creak. I slowly realized that, to my surprise, someone had opened the gate of my pasture. I could be free!
But it could also be a trap. I narrowed my curious, soft eyes, flattening my ears. What if my owner was up to something? I became nervous and slightly backed away. I spent half the night pondering whether to go out or not. It could be a risk; what if it was dangerous? I finally nickered and dropped my head, walking forward. I would just have to take risks. That's what I did, right? I had always been a risk taker. But that was before I had been broken. Now? Well, I had become distrusting of humans; they were abusive and terrible.
So it was a stereotype; so what? And that's when I met her.

I trotted through the gate suspiciously; nothing happened. I walked around a bit, but there was nothing. Nothing but wide, open spaces! I couldn't help but let out a series of small, happy whinnies. I walked forward slowly; although I was still slightly cautious, I had to admit I had relaxed a bit.
Then, I saw a dark shape slowly morph from the shadows. In terror and anger, I reared up an slammed down. But the shape, that I could now see was a small girl, stood fearlessly in front of me. She was obviously Native American; I had once fantasized about being owned by a small tribe my mother had told me about.
The girl held a rebellious, fearless, and bold demeanor. She also held a spark of defiance in her eye; she was like me.
I snorted and bobbed my gray head while watching her skeptically.
"I won't hurt you," She told me calmly, observing my actions. I shook my head. All humans were the same, right? "I see what he does. It's terrible. Please, come with me." The Native American girl held out her hand. She had emphasized he so bitterly; no one had ever cared about it as much as she seemed she did. I tentatively pushed my muzzle against her hand.
The girl, obviously slightly surprised and happy, eagerly grabbed a bit and shoved it towards my face. Afraid and surprised, I jerked my head and backed against the pasture's fence. My ears flattened as I gave her a cold and distrusting demeanor once more. My eyes were dark and looked like a battlefield. I had been abandoned once, and abused. I couldn't let it happen again.
The girl sighed, "Well, Mr. Mysterious, I know you've been hurt. But can't you trust me? It'll only be 'til we get back to my tribe." I stood rigidly. The girl gave a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping. She knew I wasn't going anywhere with that bit in my mouth.
"Fine. Just, please, stay?" She asked hopefully.
I had a better idea. As she began to walk away quietly, I trotted after quietly. I soon snorted, and the girl turned slightly. Seeing me, she giggled and continued. Then she started to run, and I simply ran with her. The Native American girl soon collapsed in exhaustion and laughter.
I nuzzled her and helped her up with small nudges and allowing her to lean on me momentarily. "Ya know, Mr. Mysterious, I'm called Citali. It means "star" in my language. I should call you something better than Mr. Mysterious, though. Hmm..." I stood alertly as she thought. Although very arrogant, I was patient.

"I'll call you Chisisi. It means "secret." So I was now deemed with the name "Chisisi." You know what? I liked it. I pranced towards her camp, bearing my new name proudly. It made sense.

Soon enough, I was standing in a large pen. The pasture here was full and rich, and I could eat to my heart's content. I had to admit it was nice, even if I probably was standing around, getting fat. I snorted happily at the thought. I had been here for a few days now. Children, along with Citali, had come to see me. Although cautious and suspicious, I'd nuzzled them and allowed them to pet me. It was nice to get all this sweet attention.
I was surprised that Citali hadn't come and tried to ride me yet. I jerked my head up as the familiar crunch of boots came up. "Chisisi," She cooed sweetly. I watched her carefully. Her hands were behind her back, and a huge smile was plastered across her gorgeous face.
As I came closer, becoming suspicious, she put her arm in front of my eyes. "Don't look," She murmured, so I stayed where I was. I heard shuffling and slight movement. Light flooded my eyes again as she drew her hand away, and I stared at what was before me.
"I weaved it all by myself," For her age, Citali was one of the most skilled weavers of the tribe. It was amazing what she'd done now. She gingerly held a purple halter with reins in her hands, obviously meant for me. I guess you could call it "weaved;" although it was more braided. But who was I to critique? "Do you like it, Chisisi?" She murmured.
To admit, I did. It had soft padding and looked comfortable enough. I walked closer, sniffing it and sticking my nose in it. "I know you don't like bridles, which I understand. So I made you this! The reins are so I can ride you without having that metal making your poor mouth sore. We'll work on everything!" She exclaimed as she secured the halter on.
It was snug and comfortable; I loved it! Citali cautious climbed the fence and motioned towards my back, as if asking to get on. I weighed options, but finally turned my back towards her. She was my best friend; she wouldn't hurt me, would she?
Citali carefully slipped onto me, gingerly holding the matching purple reins that were tightly woven/braided as well. The tightened her grip slightly on the knots in the reins. I could feel her anticipation coming off in waves. The girl gently kicked me, and I walked forward. As we rode on, I realized I had worried for nothing. Citali was my friend, and nothing like my previous owner. She loved me, and would take good care of me.
Even though I would've allowed her to put a bit in my mouth, Citali kept me on the halter all those years. She was constantly trying to change it, complaining that the halter was old, stinky, faded, and ugly. But each time, I stubbornly refused. I even once jumped to fence to stop her from throwing it away.
That halter would always be my reminder of the day I realized I had a real best friend, and I wanted to die wearing it.

you put effort into this and you really showed creativity with the story!

[Arrows]

thank you!