[Kitsyn]

Here's a pretty Smokey Perlino, but he has scars :0

What is the story behind this stally's scars? 500 word max.
Will end February 7.

Username: ZombiePoodle
Equid's Name: Finvarra
Age: 14 years
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: (Word count: 497)
Is pain a temporary sensation? I believe that pain is eternal; a never-ending, downward spiral into the depths of the universe.
It was my own arrogance that led to my pain and caused my scars. I was a leader, a commander, a king... but I was young. Too headstrong, too insensitive. I abused my power, hungry for anything that could raise my status. I acted like a monster. No one could stop me – or so I had thought. That was my first mistake. I hadn't planned for an uprising; I hadn't planned to be exiled. And so my crown was shattered.
If the scars on my back show my absence of wings, so be it; I am no angel, I am but an arrogant fiend.

I never returned; I let my foolish pride get the better of me. That was my second mistake. I became lost in unfamiliar, foreign territory. It wasn't until I realized the danger I was in that my arrogance dampened, and fear entered my heart. I had left my herd, and thus the protection it provided. If I hadn't been so prideful, I might have gone back. My head was held high, though I had no direction. I chose whatever path appeared least threatening. That was my third mistake.
If the scars on my legs hinder my movement, so be it; I have walked my share of miles.

Sometimes threats can be found in the most unlikely of places. Who knew a pack of wolves would choose the path I had taken? Who knew their hungry stomachs would lead them to attack? That was their mistake. Most of them targeted my legs, though the bravest of them chose to leap onto my back. I can't remember the number of assailants, there might have been two or twenty. I can only count the scars on my body, and remember the pain. If the body is a galaxy, pain is darkness, lit only by the light of suffering stars. Pain is the cause of abeyance between life and death. It is the very center of existence. I remember the loss of awareness, a feeling of darkness, of being surrounded by hopelessness and stars. I didn't manage to escape the wolves, but I put up a fight. They chose to leave in search of an easier meal, leaving me collapsed and bleeding, all alone. My arrogance had led me to that pack of wolves. If I were ever unlucky enough to meet them again, I might thank them, for they were the first to teach me what it is to feel pain. I would thank them, for they helped me see the pain my arrogance had caused myself and others.
If the scars on my body are unsightly, so be it; they are the results of my trials, they are reminders of pain that I have endured, and pain that I have caused.

With each ache of these scars, I am reminded that pain is eternal.

[wendigo.]

Username: Cakie The Dog
Equid's Name: Gallivrant
Age: 5
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: He would think back on the incedent every time he caught his reflection in a puddle, lake, or other reflective surface. Inner demons, he would think. They caused that mess, not him. He couldn't think for a moment that he was the one who attacked his little brother, in a fit of jealous rage. No, that simply wasn't right. he had been forced, by his demons. He shook his mane and trotted off, snorting furiously. This was why no one could be around him, some way, or another, other equids find your past. And they don't leave you alone for it, either. The scars criss crossing his back and flank were not only from his parents desperately trying to drag him away from his brother, but from other equids who had found out about his past. They shunned him, and even when he thought he could have a friend, they turned on him. he had grown to hate and be terrified of his own species.

[the legend leg]

I think neon meant January 27th... Just a guess...
But omg neon, he is so gorgeous even with his scars, they give him more personality. <33

Username: legend.
Equid's Name: Gryffen [same pronunciation of Griffen]
Age: 5 year old
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: Griffen is a perfect picture of a stallion and a father that every mare and foal wants, until April 27th, 2007.

He was living in the good days. It was warm. The water was flowing around a small filly playing with the fish, and a gorgeous mare sleeping on her side in the meadow with a cool breeze flying through her mane. The stallion was standing with his head to the sky, but he didn’t feel like the good day is becoming. He had a sickening feeling in his stomach, one you cant resist, but stays in your mouth. As the sun struck 2 o’clock, something in his mind struck something that should never happen to a stallion living this royal life.

Days passed by and it became clearer, something was not right with him, especially discovered by his mate. She became curious and would pull him to the side and ask him," What’s going on with you?" with a scared expression. He would just stare at her and his mind would go blank. Most of the time, he would react the same as he was, but then, he wouldn’t know who they were.

June 12th, 2007. He finally left, completely. His memory of his mate and filly, or anything happening in his whole life, disappeared. He was truly starting over. One dark afternoon, his mate thought he was sleep walking, but he sort of was. He got up from where he was sleeping, walked into the forest a mile or two, and then it happened. He was still a bit lost in his mind, but as the wolves closed in, he stopped and stood still. As the first one jumped on his left leg, another clawed at his right hip, it finally clicked. It was over, whatever it was. He started fighting back the way he used to be and now forever will be.

Limping back to his mate and foal, he say they were not to be found. Lying down in the same spot for days, he bleed and became extremely weak. A beautiful mare found him and nursed him back to healthy within a few days. With the wounds being very deep, he has scars to this day.

As he would sleep every night in the past few years, he would not try to dream about a certain thing, but just something would pop up every now and then, but what he found strange was a few days later, he would hear news about it in the forest form animal to animal. One night, he dreamed someone in his past history can to visit him, and she seemed important. As other situations, it did happen a few days later. And it did. The filly he had with his past mate should up as a beautiful, grown up mare. He just stopped and stared at her and said," Hi."

total: 481 words

[jensen ackles]

Username: jensen ackles
Equid's Name: Icarus
Age: 3
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: Icarus is the kind of quid who says what no one should say, and does what no one should do. Being the difficult quid he is, he found it fun to race the dirt-bikes that sometimes drove through a field by his herd's home, even when he full well knew that humans brought bad things upon the world around them. When racing with the dirt-bike of a young girl, the girl led the stallion at a breakneck pace onto a jump, and with no time to hesitate, Icarus followed her over the 7 foot hill and lept into the air. Unfortunately for Icarus, no matter how high he leaped, he would always come back down, and no dreams of flying could give him the wings to stop him from a nasty fall. His 'would be wings,' as he likes to call them when he tells the story, simply melted away as gravity reclaimed the stallion and brought him down in a bramble thicket, and tore into him.

[kortico]

Username: aftershock.
Equid's Name: Watchguard
Age: Eleven
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: wip

war horse idea

[stride]

Username: Stride
Equid's Name: Daedelus
Age: 5 years old
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: w.i.p

[Luna~tic]

Username: Luna~tic
Equid's Name: Vladimir
Age: 8 years
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer:

"INTRODUCIIIINNNG THEEEE INCREDIBLE VLADIMIR! WATCH AS HE FLIES OVER BARRELS AND DANCES ON AIR! LADIESSSS AND GENTLEMEN, HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SUCH A MAGNIFICENT CREATURE!?!" The pale stallion shook his mane, cantering around the brightly lit arena. Around him, stands of humans watched in awe as he picked up speed, heading straight for a flaming log. He paused, the crowd inhaling with fear before he leaped forwards, flying over the hungry flames and landing unscathed on the other side. Pawing the ground with a well-oiled hoof, he trotted back towards the Menagerie, allowing several clowns to stumble onto the sawdust, making quick work of removing his props.

The equid awaited his next routine, ears twitching in delight at every exclamation of awe and gaggle of giggles. Much later, he scraped his hoof against the ground in excitement as two of circus workers approached him pulling a light wagon. The strap was slung over his back, with decorative straps of leather at the front of his forelegs and back legs, restricting his movement to a trot. Vlad lived for the performance, he fed off the delight of the audience, basking in the spotlight. Despite his excitement, something felt off. His long tail swept the sawdust behind him as he waiting for the Rosie's elephant act to finish. Whimpers of delight reached his ears as the wagon creaked behind him. He flicked his ears, turning his head to watch as an elegantly dressed terrier family boarded the wooden boards, seating themselves around a quaint table set with tea cups and a large tea pot. For the first time, a pig joined them as a guest, dressed smartly with a large top hat and bright red bowtie. Vladimir shivered as the wagon sank lower into the sawdust. It would undoubtedly make his job much harder, after all, he wasn't built to pull a fully grown hog. His skin twitched, feeling soft under the hard leather harness, already bruised by the added weight that tried to roll away on the slight slope. A trumpet sounded, and he strained against the harness, desperately trying to get the wheels rolling. The wagon barely shifted, only creaking at his meager attempt to pull it. The workers pushed against the wagon, aiding him slightly before he could trot on his own, stumbling as he tried to keep it moving. Barely half way around the arena, the cart sunk into a thick layer of sawdust, before refusing to go any further. He bucked in his attempt to pull it, his frustration reflected in the audience as they began to murmur.
With a grunt, the pig stood up, tottered towards him, stepping on the table cloth in the process. Hot tea went flying, scalding the terriers before they ran off, yapping their complaints. With a sudden crack, the wagon collapsed, pulling Vladimir down with it. The harness dug into him, ripping out fur and mane. The equid fell to his knees, before rolling onto his side, dead to the world.

Word Count; idk tbh 500 exactly

I've been circussy for the past month, excuse me. Reading both Road to Gundagai and Water for Elephants at the same time can do that to a person.

I might still edit it to shorten it so I can add what happens next.
He blacks out. Shocker, I know, XD. Then he heals and is released into the wild because circus people don't care much about an act after it loses it's worth? idk, I'll have to add all this in when I get home from school.

[Agent Shark]

-dropping out sorry xox-

[ShadyBro]

Username: ShadyBro
Equid's Name: Brayden
Age: 9 Years
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: Brayden's story hits a little close to home. You see he is named after someone I hold very close to my heart, someone who I have looked up to all these years growing up in a broken home. And he has scars, too.

Brayden grew up on a small farm sitting right in the middle of a large, pine covered plateau in the mountains. An old man by the name of Gus owned this farm, along with his wife Jane. They had little money, and the horses would sometimes go hungry for many days. But not Brayden. Jane loved this little colt more than anything else in the world. She spent many nights sleeping in the barn with him, running her fingers through his soft mane until he fell soundly asleep beside her.
But not all good things last, unfortunately. Jane died at the age of 35, a week after Brayden's third birthday. At the time, the colt couldn't seem to understand why he couldn't see Jane anymore. To him she was still there, just waiting outside the barn, perhaps busy picking flowers for him to munch on later. But she never did come back for him. Not a year later and Gus, the now soul owner of the farm, ran out of money for the ranch. He sold off all the other horses one by one, but it was never enough. He blamed Brayden for his wife's death, for being so poor, for eating up all their savings.
Gus became angry with the colt, first just muttering cuse words and threats under his breath whenever he passed Brayden's stall. Then he moved on to starving the poor equid, refusing to pay him any attention for weeks at a time. And finally, he decided he had so much pent up anger towards the colt, that he just couldn't stand him any more. Gus abused the poor little foal, and as Brayden fell in and out of consciousness, as everything faded out, he swore he heard Jane's voice calling out to him. She was telling him, "Be brave."
Years later, Brayden still remembers his childhood on that little ranch. He holds those memories dear to him, thinking of them every day, not as something to feel sad about, but rather to remind him of what he has been through. And most of all, to 'be brave'.

[ruberiot]

Username: icybluegal
Equid's Name: Percy
Age: 5 years
Gender: Stallion
Height: 13.1 hh
Answer: Percy received his scars in a fire. The memories are always there, never forgotten. He remembers that night like it was yesterday.

Crackling and popping awakes him. His eyes snap open, and he is met with an orange glow. The acrid reek of smoke is heavy in the air, accompanied by the persistent snap of flames as they consume the wood and any other flammable items. His mother's voice is suddenly in his ear. "Percy, get up, run!" Percy staggers to his feet and stares at his mom. They are still in the small barn that they normally sleep in. An awful earsplitting snap emanates from above them. Percy raises his head, wheels, runs. But he is too late.
A flaming piece of wood topples from the top of the building. Percy lets out a whinny of terror, trying desperately to get away. There is a quiet whoosh that follows the wood, and then the stick smacks Percy square on the shoulders. A small section of it shatters, still flaming, and scratches his flesh. It bounces and strikes his hips, doing the same as before. The shards of wood from the first time the wood hit him falls forward in such a way that it ends up scratching the stallion's legs.
All Percy can feel is pain. Then he runs, runs and runs before he collapses.
A gentle mare cared for him until he was healed, and Percy left.
The memories never cease to haunt him.