Username: MiloThePitBull
Show Name: The laws of Fire
Barn Name: Sparky
Gender: stallion
Halter Color: something to do with fire
Theme song:
Linkin Park- Burning in the SkiesThe last Fire-Lapped tolterFor years, tales had circled around about the Fire-Lapped wild Tolters that roamed The Parliamentary Plains of Iceland. The horses had been known for their unique fire-like markings that appeared normally on their belly, legs and neck but sometimes appeared on the face and back. The rare horses were hunted to extinction for their coats, manes and tails and were believed to be gone forever before the plains became a national park, but there is a story of the last Fire-Lapped tolter ever recorded! And it goes like this;
It was winter, the ice had already spread across the lakes and rivers, the snow fell onto the frozen grass, the sky filled with soft, grey snow clouds. The night was going to be cold and death to any animal left without shelter, so be it, the stockmen would go out and bring in their horses. But on this night, there would be a sight of the past. A horse like fire would dance threw the white snow, leaving hope in the hearts of the old farmers. It wouldn't be any horse, it would be the last Fire-Lapped wild Icelandic Tolter to ever be seen on the planet.
This was the one night that there would be proof of the herd existence, the last hope of making them a protected species. So the old man headed out alone, walking by foot to the paddock where his working horses would rest when not pulling cart and plows. Where they would graze in the moonlight, but not tonight. The wind was already up and blowing snow into the determined mans face, making his shaken breath fog as he breathed out, making white smoke carry along the wind. He flipped the sheep skin hood over his red face, helping protect him from the elements as he opened the gate to the paddock, the horses were like black outlines against the snow as he made his way to he animals with the lead ropes shaking in the frozen hands. The hardy old man clipped the last lead rope onto the old mare in the furthest corner of the snow field paddock.
The storm was becoming strong, the once soft snow felt like bullets pelting the man and his horses. It was some two kilometers back to the home paddock and it would be a hard journey against the wind and it's ally, the lightning and thunder. The man, in his late seventies was becoming weak in the cold, now relying on the old mare to take him home, he struggled up onto her back and held on to the mare's ice dripped mane. But they came to a stop, in the middle of a furious storm that carried on over-head. Suddenly the thunder stopped, the snow retreated and the lighting disappeared, confused the elderly man slipped down gingerly from the gentle grey mare. Something came in from the distance, bright like fire against the black sky and white ground but it was no magic snow travelling flame, for all he had known it just could have been. The
magic flame came to a stop some ten meters away from the man, it stood on it's hind legs, letting out a triumphant whinny.
It stood for some half a second then turned and ran, disappearing in to the returning storm. Little did the man know that the horse had stuck around, following some distance behind just in case. The old man stood in shock, the coat, the height, the colour! They were all the same! Was it he? The last Fire-Lapped? He mounted his mare, unclipping the lead ropes and sending the other horses towards home. The man turned the ponies head, following the bright flame into the unknown that lay ahead, he shook, cold and anxious on the grey's back. He had only ever seen a horse like this when he was just a boy, when the herd was large and free from the humans clutches of death.
He stopped the mare, lost in the storm for a minute as he noticed a red outline standing still in the snow, making the mare move again, the Fire-Lapped took off, cantering some distance ahead then stopping and waiting for the elderly man and his old horse. Then it stopped again, the storm calmed, a gentle breeze carried soft flakes of snow, melting as they hit the man. The wild horse stood on a ledge, looking at the man, waiting for him to follow him. Slowly and carefully the man slipped down from the ponies back, gingerly climbing to the top of the hill to stand by the stallion. The man stood in awe at the sight, he saw the once lonely valley full with the legendary Fire-Lapped Tolters! A colt trotted up the hill, throwing his head as he stood infront of man, touching his nose to the man's shaking and cold hands "Sparky?" the man asked as the picture faded away. The man opened his eyes slowly, he was sitting at home, infront of the fire, a young man standing next to him "Sir, are you okay?" the young man asked, after a while the old man didn't answer, he was confused "Sir? I found you out in the snow, by the Fire Valley." said the young man, wondering if he had forgotten. "Were they there?" asked the older man, looking up into the gentle and kind face of his rescuer, the young man smiled and nodded. The elderly man stood, slowly making his way to the window, a magic flame stood in the paddock, rearing into the storm "Sparky!" the elderly man said happily, placing a hand on the window.
Nobody knows why the Fire-Lapped tolters chose that particular night to reveal themselves, some say that they were there all along but we just haven't noticed them, others still don't believe it and refuse to agree. But that is the fun about a myth, nobody knows exactly how it will end...
lines and art by me, do not steal
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