[CopperChaos]

Super hard not keeping this guy.... but here you go, a handsome stally!

To win him write a short story (3 or less paragraphs, 7-9 sentences per paragraph) about him, it can be anything really, i just want you to impress me

End Date: August 12th
Edits: Allowed (whoops I put not allowed originally, but they are allowed sorry about that)

Owner: Bentley
Name: Benny
Gender: Stallion
Age: 8 years
Height: 13.2hh
Story: Gunfire and smoke surrounded Benny as he charged behind the line of soldiers, the packs of bandages nudging his sweat-soaked flanks and shoulders. He had lives to save, injured people that needed his aid, all he had to do was reach them and duck down, out of the way, sometimes letting the dying stroke his mud-caked, filthy mane or tail as they went - a small comfort for them, it seemed, but something he could afford to give. He remembered their faces, too; whole and healthy, not the grime and wound-covered messes that they had been in their last moments; they lived in his memory, and he honored them by guarding the lives of their comrades. A living memorial, he supposed, could do no less for those that he stood for, for those that he fought with, for those that he would see return home to their families, and for those that he would yet see close their eyes and breathe their last.

The young kid that he settled next to... he was a green recruit, barely out of training, and it was plain as the smoke in the sky that he wouldn't see the light of day again; he was already just too far gone, another life nearly snuffed in the flying dust. Benny's fellow hooved solders, they would have cursed themselves for their failures; if they had only been faster, if they had only been more agile and graceful in their leaps over the buried bombs that the enemy had laid behind in their retreat! But there had been no obstacles for Benny; nothing but the flying shrapnel that threatened his own life, and there simply wasn't time for regret as he nudged his nose into the young man's cheek, huffing warm air onto the shivering, cooling skin. It wouldn't be long, he reminded himself; the man's suffering would end, and he'd be free of the battle, of the war and the struggle that he was still mired in. An echo ran through him, the last words of a dead general many years passed: 'Dulce et decorum est,' he'd said, his grumbling, tired old voice fading in strength as he spoke to the large equid he had hand-trained as a foal, 'pro patria mori.' Benny didn't know what it meant, of course, but it seemed appropriate as the eager recruit-turned-mortally-wounded-solider lay at the end of his life before him.

The flicker of light faded in the human's eyes long before the medic gave up trying to revive him, and though Benny stayed through the entire procedure, he sincerely hoped that the boy - for that was truly all he was in the end - was at peace. One more shining face, sandy blonde hair that stuck up in a stubborn cowlick in the back, and two crooked front teeth in the hopeful little grin made its home in Benny's mental gallery memorial, a shining metal plate underneath with the pattern of bars and stars engraved. A soft command from the medic, and he was again on his hooves, racing to the next injured soldier in need - his job was simply never complete.

[Sp00kEHours]

Username:
IBiteBack
Name:
Delgado, otherwise known as Del.
Gender: Stallion
Age:
3 years
Height:
15.0 hands
Story:
Sunlight graced over the lush green grass, illuminating the dew clinging to the tall blades and highlighting the dark shell of an early rising beetle. No morning breeze disrupted the tiny creature as it made its way towards the top of the blade it held on to, unaware that there was nothing there waiting for it. Everything was peaceful, and pretty much completely still.....until the little self appointed prince stretched out his legs. Pale amethyst eyes studied the still sleeping face of his mother before the youth tossed his head back, keening to the sky and disturbing the rest of the domesticated herd from their wonderful slumber. Several pairs of ears flattened against equine skulls with distaste as the little troublesome foal keened again before taking off, rushing across the grass in a happy display of speed and power- even at his young age.
"Delgado, be careful! You could slip on the dew!"
His mother's warning call was ignored as the foal enjoyed himself, narrowly missing the beetle that he didn't know existed as the cool morning breeze ruffled his mane and his soft coat. "Foals will be foals" was muttered to the mother of the troublesome youth, and his beloved birth giver let out a long sigh before rising to watch as the normal foals tried to blink the sleep from their eyes. Del was lost to the rush of running, his eyes focused on the fence keeping him from leaving the safety of the pasture- or, more importantly, the strong body that had never been held back by a fence. He came to a thundering halt, kicking up little bits of dirt and grass as he came close to hitting his chest on the wooden barrier. His ears flicked back before standing straight up as he admired the stallion- his father in all of his glory- that had never been captured by a human, or held back by a fence. The long legged youth gaped at the other male, maw hanging open before he tossed his young head back and keened to the older and superior Equid. His father's head turned, darker purple eyes locking on the form of his son as the elder hesitated, and Del's hopes for getting a response began to waver.

Then, the older tilted his head back.....and keened for his firstborn son.

[Lady Tuesday]

Username: It's Tuesday Again,
Name: Babau (The Eastern Meditterranean name for the Bogeyman, it translates into 'Black Man')
Gender: Stallion
Age: Unknown (If that's not allowed then 5 years?)
Height: 15hh
Story: Babau is coming. Foals just remember, that he will get you when you're naughty, or out after dark. He's big, tall, and scary, with eyes that glow big in the darkness that surrounds him. He doesn't want to eat you, but neither does he want to play. You better remember that, and you better behave. Oh, he's frightening even to grown stallions, so you can be sure he is ghastly in appearance. His face is marred from past battles, but he doesn't mind and instead wears them with pride. He is strong and mighty, able to pull a thousand men by cart, and he is faster than light itself as he races and passes it by. He is mythical and can not be summoned nor found, the only way you'll meet him is if you disobey your parents, but to meet him is not a thing to wish upon his worse enemy.

He has a cruel tongue, a cruel mind, and a cruel sense of humor. Babau is the very meaning of the word 'evil' in itself, and he doesn't hesitate when it comes to carrying out his deeds. He hides under beds and in dark corners, always just beyond your sight. He is the one who's there when you feel you're being watched. He knows many words and many things yet love is not one that he will ever learn. He is insane and enjoys every moment of it, running about by his lonesome in the shadows. He has never been shown love and therefore knows not of it's existense. He ponders at it slightly when it is shown to him but he will never be able to reciprecate it. Foals just remember, that you better behave, no matter what time, or place, or day.

Babau is coming. And if you do not listen, he won't let you get away.

[20 Sentences: 9 in 1st paragraph, 9 in 2nd paragraph,
2 in 3rd paragraph.]

[cowgirlchrista]

Username: Cowgirlchrista
Name: Adrian
Gender: Stallion
Age: 4
Height: 15.2 hands
Story: WIP

[Dia.]

Username: Dia.
Name: Orrin
Gender: Stallion
Age: 5 Years
Height: 13.2
Story: The sun was sinking below the horizon, casting it's dusky, golden rays over the wild grass. Everything seemed still, but the slightest breeze caused each long blade to tremble and wave. A soft snort came from the seal bay stallion as a beetle flew up his nose. Orrin lifted his head slightly, annoyed at the disruption, then continued to graze. He took another step, hoof sicking into the entrance of some creature's burrow, crumbling the edges. He munched away with little care for his surroundings and his leg fetlock-deep in the ground. He glanced up when a bird noisily flew out of the bushes and his sleepy eyes widened at the sight of a rather lush patch of grass.
Mouth watering, Orrin shook his hoof free from its earthy prison and trotted over to the patch. He began eating more vigorously, tail waving behind him happily. Suddenly, the stallion stopped mid chew, pricked his ears, and lifted his head slightly. A small black nose peeked out of the undergrowth a few feet in front of him. Its whiskers twitched and Orrin could hear the creature's noisy sniffing. Orrin snorted, blowing dirt, grass, and snot at the curious nose. The creature sneezed in retaliation and the nose disappeared back in the bushes. With a satisfied hurrumph, Orrin continued his dinner.
It didn't take long, however, for the curious nose to return. This time, the nose's little red-tinged face peered out of the grass. Wide eyes stared at the stallion who gazed back apathetically. Orrin didn't even bother to stop chewing on his grass and the two creatures were locked in a staredown. When he finally broke away to get another bite to eat, the little red creature sprung out of the bushes with his tiny paws outstretched. The fox cub landed squarely on his mark with a squeal, batting at Orrin's nose as he tumbled back to the ground. In his shock, the stallion reeled backward and fell onto his rump. Extremely disturbed by the cub's attack, Orrin scrambled to his hooves, spun around, and took off towards more peaceful grazing land.

[Fiddle]

Username: Fiddle
Name: Leander
Gender: Stallion
Age: 3
Height: 14.9 hh
Story: He could hear his mother making quiet weeping noises beside him. He was burning up a fever, so sick, so sick.. he hadn't been conscious in a while. "Leander, please.." she begged. "You're my first colt. You can't leave." Her voice grew distant, and Leander was swallowed down into his nightmarish dreams again. A mountain lion prowled in front of him, its growl turning into a thrumming roar. Flames licked the edge of his vision. Is that the way to fight the burning heat?, he wondered. He crept forward, towards the lion, desperate to escape the heat kissing his heels.

As he did, he felt a sharp pain nip his back, then his hindquarters. He looked up. Rocks were falling from the sky, pelting his slick body and gathering on the ground around him. The force of the falling earth became too much, and he collapsed on the ground. The lion was seething, roaring and spitting. No grave can hold me down, he snorted to himself. "I'll crawl back to her." His hooves became paws with unsheathed claws, and his muzzle became one of a cat's. He roared and clawed.

Leander realized he was awake when he saw his mother before him again, and the cool of the night earth bit into his sweat-soaked coat. She lapsed into tears when she saw his handsome violet eyes open, for the first time in days. She gasped when he even found the energy to stand on his thin, yearling legs. Leander panted, still feeling pricks of the fever's pain. He touched his muzzle to her temple, taller than her even at this age, and whispered, "The world can't get rid of me that easily." His mother snorted a laugh, and Leander nickered back weakly. Every part of him burned, but he was winning this fight.

[jensen ackles]

Username: Jensen Ackles
Name: Kenn (Goes by R)
Gender: Stallion
Age: 3
Height: 14hh
Story:
Sweet juices exploded out of the fresh, red apple as Kenn chewed. The bright spring morning had found the young stallion by his favorite apple tree, pulling down the best he could reach. Bird calls echoed through the sun-dappled forest, as the light illuminated the leaf-strewn woodland floor. Kenn would often remain by the tree for hours on end, sometimes eating, sometimes simply viewing the wildlife. He especially liked watching the close-knit herds of deer delicately trotting through, often leading fragile fawns to a new meadow. There was one herd who regularly passed through, and on several occasions Kenn had helped the cervines to reach the more delicious apples. He had grown fond of one in particular, an older doe who was late to give birth, and had been heavily pregnant the last Kenn had seen her. However, the herd had been curiously absent in the woods for the past week or two, and Kenn began to worry about his friends.

Later in the day, at around noontime, a curious whinny of sorts came from a denser patch of woodland near the apple tree, attracting Kenn's attention. The sun didn't reach quite as far in that part of the woods, so Kenn was forced to approach the slightly foreboding tree line in order to better see the source of the noise. Small patches of sun fought their way through the canopy, and Kenn's well-trained nose soon picked up the smell of the herd, although this scent had a softer, warmer feeling. Although it took some searching, Kenn found a newborn fawn among the foliage, and Kenn pushed his way to the small creature. It must have come here on it's own somehow, else the rest of the herd would be with the young thing. The fawn started when it saw Kenn approaching, and looked at him with confused, coffee-brown eyes and made the noise again, probably to signal it was hungry. Kenn could smell the old doe on the fawn's coat, and quickly realized that this was his friend's child, and if it were here without her, she likely was in some sort of danger. Kenn quickly scanned the undergrowth for a nearby threat, but his eyes didn't pick up anything, nor did his ears or nose. Why was the foal here?

Kenn spent the day with the fawn, keeping it warm while going out at intervals to search for the herd. Hours later, he found a small clearing, smelling suspiciously of human and gunpowder. Kenn circled around, and soon found exactly what he had hoped he wouldn't, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Kenn returned to the young fawn, and gently nosed him up. Kenn would take him to a mare he could trust, and raise the young creature himself. The young fawn was a doe, and Kenn decided he would call her Isi, meaning 'deer' in Choctaw.

[Desmond]

Username: Bentley
Name: Benny
Gender: Stallion
Age: 8 years
Height: 13.2hh
Story: Gunfire and smoke surrounded Benny as he charged behind the line of soldiers, the packs of bandages nudging his sweat-soaked flanks and shoulders. He had lives to save, injured people that needed his aid, all he had to do was reach them and duck down, out of the way, sometimes letting the dying stroke his mud-caked, filthy mane or tail as they went - a small comfort for them, it seemed, but something he could afford to give. He remembered their faces, too; whole and healthy, not the grime and wound-covered messes that they had been in their last moments; they lived in his memory, and he honored them by guarding the lives of their comrades. A living memorial, he supposed, could do no less for those that he stood for, for those that he fought with, for those that he would see return home to their families, and for those that he would yet see close their eyes and breathe their last.

The young kid that he settled next to... he was a green recruit, barely out of training, and it was plain as the smoke in the sky that he wouldn't see the light of day again; he was already just too far gone, another life nearly snuffed in the flying dust. Benny's fellow hooved solders, they would have cursed themselves for their failures; if they had only been faster, if they had only been more agile and graceful in their leaps over the buried bombs that the enemy had laid behind in their retreat! But there had been no obstacles for Benny; nothing but the flying shrapnel that threatened his own life, and there simply wasn't time for regret as he nudged his nose into the young man's cheek, huffing warm air onto the shivering, cooling skin. It wouldn't be long, he reminded himself; the man's suffering would end, and he'd be free of the battle, of the war and the struggle that he was still mired in. An echo ran through him, the last words of a dead general many years passed: 'Dulce et decorum est,' he'd said, his grumbling, tired old voice fading in strength as he spoke to the large equid he had hand-trained as a foal, 'pro patria mori.' Benny didn't know what it meant, of course, but it seemed appropriate as the eager recruit-turned-mortally-wounded-solider lay at the end of his life before him.

The flicker of light faded in the human's eyes long before the medic gave up trying to revive him, and though Benny stayed through the entire procedure, he sincerely hoped that the boy - for that was truly all he was in the end - was at peace. One more shining face, sandy blonde hair that stuck up in a stubborn cowlick in the back, and two crooked front teeth in the hopeful little grin made its home in Benny's mental gallery memorial, a shining metal plate underneath with the pattern of bars and stars engraved. A soft command from the medic, and he was again on his hooves, racing to the next injured soldier in need - his job was simply never complete.

[CopperChaos]

Accidentally put that edits are not allowed, they are haha you can have as many edits as you like, sorry about that ^^"

[Lady Tuesday]

Accidentally put that edits are not allowed, they are haha you can have as many edits as you like, sorry about that ^^"

I thought that was a bit odd for this particular competition cx oh well, we all make mistakes...I'm just glad I'm allowed to go back and fix mine lol