[warg]

Black Tobiano

owner: AllahDamnit
name: Naomi
gender: Mare
eye color: Teal
height: 15.3
sire: foundation
dam: foundation

[craig?]

username; Spottedpuppi
showname; Water dancer
name; Skimm
gender; Female
emblem; Rain circle
short story;wip
*pounces*

[SilverBell90]

username; Silverbell90
showname; Accidentally in Love
name; White Out
gender; Mare
emblem; The rune for "Protection" in the center of a stone.
short story; WIP

[saarebas.]

username;
AllahDamnit
name;
Naomi
gender;
Mare
emblem;
OFF Cross

short story; 533/650

The air was stale and cold on the morning of July 1916. The stench of copper was thick and overwhelming
to the mare as she heaved her lumbering body onward, he muscles moaned in protest of her actions yet she
continued forward, her head thrown back and nostrils flared as she struggled to take in enough air to continue
her strained movements. The mare had been on the Eastern Front for two years now, and it was evident that
it had not treated her kindly. After her owner had been gunned down during an attack almost a year since
the present, she had been pawned off to artillery who only served to wear her down significantly more.

So it was with a strained snort that she gave another heave, aiding the impossibly heavy cannon she and five
other horses were towing, the bulky leather straps cutting across her chest and back, her bridle pinned
uncomfortably close to her bright eyes. It was with fondness that she closed these orbs and thought back to
her life merely three years earlier, back in England. Her last home in England had been a pleasant one, she
was one of many mares and geldings that belonged to an esteemed son of a factory owner. The young man
had great interest in the equines, and thus hoarded quite a few, he was barely in his twenties when he
bought Naomi from an old farmer who was desperately in debt.

It was with great care the man had walked her home, mumbling about how his father would hardly notice
another face in the stables, despite her's being by far the brightest. He had ran soft, gloved hands through
her mane and tenderly rubbed her forehead when a passing biker caused the mare to spook. Sparing
another heave the mare gave a hoarse cough and once again resumed her process of bitterly blocking out
the gun fire and shouting. Her most fond memory of the man was most likely his second week of owning
her. Up until this point she had been referred to as 'Horse', on this day however, the man came striding
into the room, his strides purposeful and elegant. His boots tapped the concrete floor in sync until he came
to a stop outside of her stall. Naomi recalls vaguely raising her head from her trough of oats to acknowledge
the man scrutinising her with his forehead creased. For a what felt like hours yet must have only been a
matter of moments the two stared at each other, the man with purpose and the mare in unveiled curiosity.
After a pregnant silence the man grinned and exclaimed "You have her eyes you know."

As it so happened, the man had become heavily smitten with a neighbouring girl, as he had preached to
nearly every single one of his mounts, she had hair as golden as the fields in spring and a laugh that would
certainly give the healthiest man diabetes. It also seemed that she shared the mare's teal eyes, as the
man leant over her stable door with a foolish grin and chuckled, "It's quite fascinating, I didn't think your
brightness could ever be matched."

[warg]

username;
AllahDamnit
name;
Naomi
gender;
Mare
emblem;
OFF Cross

short story; 533/650

The air was stale and cold on the morning of July 1916. The stench of copper was thick and overwhelming
to the mare as she heaved her lumbering body onward, he muscles moaned in protest of her actions yet she
continued forward, her head thrown back and nostrils flared as she struggled to take in enough air to continue
her strained movements. The mare had been on the Eastern Front for two years now, and it was evident that
it had not treated her kindly. After her owner had been gunned down during an attack almost a year since
the present, she had been pawned off to artillery who only served to wear her down significantly more.

So it was with a strained snort that she gave another heave, aiding the impossibly heavy cannon she and five
other horses were towing, the bulky leather straps cutting across her chest and back, her bridle pinned
uncomfortably close to her bright eyes. It was with fondness that she closed these orbs and thought back to
her life merely three years earlier, back in England. Her last home in England had been a pleasant one, she
was one of many mares and geldings that belonged to an esteemed son of a factory owner. The young man
had great interest in the equines, and thus hoarded quite a few, he was barely in his twenties when he
bought Naomi from an old farmer who was desperately in debt.

It was with great care the man had walked her home, mumbling about how his father would hardly notice
another face in the stables, despite her's being by far the brightest. He had ran soft, gloved hands through
her mane and tenderly rubbed her forehead when a passing biker caused the mare to spook. Sparing
another heave the mare gave a hoarse cough and once again resumed her process of bitterly blocking out
the gun fire and shouting. Her most fond memory of the man was most likely his second week of owning
her. Up until this point she had been referred to as 'Horse', on this day however, the man came striding
into the room, his strides purposeful and elegant. His boots tapped the concrete floor in sync until he came
to a stop outside of her stall. Naomi recalls vaguely raising her head from her trough of oats to acknowledge
the man scrutinising her with his forehead creased. For a what felt like hours yet must have only been a
matter of moments the two stared at each other, the man with purpose and the mare in unveiled curiosity.
After a pregnant silence the man grinned and exclaimed "You have her eyes you know."

As it so happened, the man had become heavily smitten with a neighbouring girl, as he had preached to
nearly every single one of his mounts, she had hair as golden as the fields in spring and a laugh that would
certainly give the healthiest man diabetes. It also seemed that she shared the mare's teal eyes, as the
man leant over her stable door with a foolish grin and chuckled, "It's quite fascinating, I didn't think your
brightness could ever be matched."

Congrats c:

[saarebas.]

Ahhh thank you c: