[Nikki6Ashba]

What are Khimaira Friesians?
Khimaira Friesians are a "normal" friesian breed with all characteristics of a friesian and a average height from 15 to 17 hands, but even 18 hands can occur. The first born Khimaira was mistaked for a chimera horse. But a genetic test showed otherwise, there wasn't a second DNA but a complete new and unknown gen. Because this gen makes the friesian look like a chimera it was named khimaira. khimaira doesn't produce a complete new dna coat and therefor it can only lighten or darken the base coat of the horse. Till now only the paint khimaira is known that makes the khimaira coloration looks like tobiano, overo, sabino or splash. But we believe that there will be more khimaira variations out there and we still try to breed them. Appaloosas are not known till now, but we have some great friesian mixed horses with appaloosa patterns, so we are sure to deliver them to you in a short amount of time.

Mother: Foundation
Father: Foundation
Owner: birch.
Show Name: Valhalla's Champagne Supernova
Barn Name: Aesir
Gender:Stallion
Age: Unknown
Height:17.3hh
Color:Black colored paint sabino, khim manchado, khim cloud khim near leopard appy, reverse brindle with irregular BC spots
Genetics:EE/aa/Sbsb/KcKc/KlpKlp/Pant1pant1 +khm manchado + reverse brindle + BC spots
Breeding Info:-Will always pass E and Kc
- Birdcatcher Spots pass at 40%
-Manchado pass at 20%
-Reverse brindle passes at 30%
-BC spots will be irregular(stars) with 50% if it passes
-Unicorn Gene passes with 20% all Unicorn traits will pass if offspring are positive for Unicorn Gen
-Unicorn Color is dark blue

To get him, this is a combination of an impress me and a raffle. The more work you put into your forms, the more raffle entries you get. In order to get your first raffle ticket you MUST complete one art piece OR one short story focusing on this boyo and what his hobby is. The art piece must be at least a colored head shot(your skill level does not effect your chances of winning), or the story must be at least 150 words. The art/story must be 100% your own, no commissions or color ins, and no reusing old art/stories.

Ways to get extra entries:
-Pretty up your form-up to 3 extra entries
-Add extras(such as a poem about him, more art, detailed personality, ect..)-up to 3 extra entries
-The form I like the most/feel the most work was put into it will get 2 extra entries

Basic form requirements

Code: Select all

    [b]Owner:[/b]
        [b]Show Name:[/b]
        [b]Barn Name:[/b]
        [b]Gender:[/b]Stallion
        [b]Age:[/b]
        [b]Halter color:[/b]
        [b]Pearl/jewel color (halter):[/b]
        [b]Picture/story:[/b]

End Date:July 12th
Editing or Pimping the form is highly encouraged

[NeriHyuga]

mark :3

[HowlingHooves]

Owner: HowlingHooves
Show Name: Treoir sna Flaithis (Guide in the Heavens, Irish)
Barn Name: Máen (Silent, Irish)
Gender:Stallion
Age: 17 years
Halter color: #e0e1dd
Pearl/jewel color (halter): #415a77
Picture/story:


It was in silence he began, eyes bright despite being no more than minutes old; quiet, a placid being brought into the world by another. His mother doted, his father nowhere to be seen, a legend spoken of in whispers reverent and exalted. He grew up with not a name but a title to live up to, the others he spent his days and nights with treating him as though he were a king reborn.

And, as time aged his body and heart, he learned the truth of his lineage; reborn he was, but in body only. After coming of age, of proving his strength and spirit, he would be asked to ascend the craggy mountain path that overlooked the herdsground. At the peak awaited another, a being in soul alone that would manifest should he be worthy. And that was all that was said on the matter during his first year.

His mother doted still, treated him as the treasure he was to her alone; she loved and taught to love, she forbade and punished when he chose to disobey, she kept warm when he felt chill, offered shade when heat exhausted him, and, above all, she told him but one thing each day.

“Máen, follow the desires of your soul. Never will they lead you astray, even if you face adversity in your path with each step. If it means you turn your ear back at all who called you friend, if it means you turn your ea back on me.. you strike out, you live your life as you believe is best.”

And each time she told him this, as his mind aged and learned, the realization that it was a warning for him with the sad tones and the half hearted nuzzling as she spoke to him beneath the star littered skies. Máen never replied to her, his voice never born alongside his body, but as time grew him fuller he calmed her with tender touches of the son she felt she would lose.

In his second year his coat lightened from the intense, void black slowly. As though the stars themselves fell and brightened his coat slowly, the ones too weak to return to the sky remaining behind to dust his back gracefully. Blue the fur and feathering around his legs became, dark and magnificent as it mixed in among the black void of his body.

He grew stronger still, and he realized that while he was sturdy his mother was no longer. Each day the moon rose she lost small pieces of herself; each night the stars brightened his coat her own grew paler. But she always asked he not worry, for she was beyond the prime he was entering into. But he could never let such go, and he offered all his younger body could.

And as he entered his third year, Máen now kept her warm at night, kept her shaded during sweltering heat waves, led her to drink patiently, held her frail body up when her bones felt weak. He offered her all she had him and more, for he cherished this mare who gave him life above all else. And each night she told him to follow his own souls wants, until finally she spoke differently.

“Máen, you must not go. Please, do not go at suns first light.” She begged, and he rumbled softly to soothe her, his neck finding its way under her own in comfort. And as she slept, he instead rose, picking his way amongst the rest of the herd until he walked without hurry toward the mountain slope he knew was his to conquer. Day glinted, and he had begun his ascension, but not even a third of the way he had gone.

As the sun faded and made way for the moon and stars, he felt a warmth remain, faint and gentle, reminding him of his mother’s love and wish for him to remain. But he pressed on patiently, each step taken with care for the rocky slope.

Just as the moon settled into its highest reach, Máen found himself at the top of his path, were it led some feet more. But where he expected some cave or pool, he found an empty expanse, the shale cliffside looking out over the herdsground, hooves clicking noisily as he stepped forward without hesitation.

A voice whispered in his ear, on a breeze that rose around him, the warmth atop his head and necks crest growing briefly before it was but a memory. “Follow the detainees of your soul.”

And as he took the final step to look out over the herdsground, peaceful as it was in the night, another materialized from the wisps of moonlight at his side. “You must choose, son of the starlight. Be among them, perish slowly, or take to the stars and know eternity. Should you take to the stars, your body will play host to another, but you will wander.”

His voice found him, strong as though he had spoken from the beginning of his life as a long legged, black as the void colt. “I choose neither, old one.” He turned away from the overlook, cast not a glance back at the being that he knew in his heart to be his ancestors, and he descended from the mountain. But rather than follow the trail back toward where he knew his mother had finally faded, he paused as the warmth grew stronger near his ears, eyes closing as he reveled in feelings of love and calmness.

He turned away from the path, ignoring the rock underfoot as he forged his own across the mountainside. He would do as she asked, Máen would follow where his soul bade as his mother had urged from the very first of his days. And he could hope to find another like her perhaps, in his journeys to find himself.



♫ ♫



Each night he stared, each day he waited; the stars, ever silent but always warm, showed him the way. Where, he neither knew or asked for them to share their secrets. But follow the path set out by one constellation after another, changing each new cycle when the aky would be as dark as the black of his coat, many faces lay within his mind and heart. Mates with their newborns, rogue stallions that sought to challenge and gain a harem, old bones with tales his ears could listen to each hour of the day. Every face he remembered, and every name that went with them.

But when asked why such a fellow as he travelled alone, when times could be dangerous without the comfort of the herd, his gentle reply was the same to each. “I made a promise to someone.” They would smile, they would wonder who, but only one had ever asked him who he had promised such a life to love.

“My mother, elder. I promised to follow my soul where it beckoned. And the stars above, they beckon to me. They guide me. And looking to them each night eases any burden; without the stars, I feel my life would hold less meaning that it does now.”

“A stargazer, are you?” The old stallion had chuckled, he himself soon delving into stories of his own enjoyment of seeking out the stars. A pastime it was, and Máen found the term for it agreeable; passing the time for him it did, followognthe stars on his path. “You look like the stars within the sky, young one. Perhaps at your end, your pastime of looking to them will give you the strength to lift you to them.” The Stallion spoke with his head raised to the cloudy sky. “But on night like this, however do you travel? There’s no stars to follow, nothing to pursue.” Máen smiles secretively, okenear flicking before he turned sidelong to show the constellations on his back.

“I follow them, elder, so that I may gather their fallen and guide them in return. When the sky is shaded, it simply allowes my body to rest until they can guide me further.” He told the other, watched patiently as the elder looked at his coat in awe and wonder.

“You... a gatherer of the Stars. I’ve heard tales of others like you, keepers of the void. You call me elder, but truly.. how long have you been collecting these?” The rickety Stallion asked, shifting his weight as he watched with ears pricked forward.

And Máen smiles again, dipping his head; youthful he looked, and sharp his three horns were still, but this aged body sharing the night with him was intuitive. “A century, by my count of winters gone.” Máen admitted surely, gaze watchful as he awaited a response from the other.

“A keeper of the void indeed.” Was all the response he got before the other chuckled loudly. “A soul far older than even my bones, yet you wish only for stories! Oh, the ones you could tell in return!” And stories Maen had, not for one night but for three, until the aging Stallion could stand no longer. Máen was kind as he allowed the other to lay against him for warmth the third night, whispering a tale of a headstrong youth he had met some decades past.

“‘Twas me, Máen! You let me best you in fight over nothing?”

“At times, nothing is all that is needed to bolster ones confidence, or to set onto a path to a life with many stories to tell.” The stallion laughed quietly in return, agreeing before sleep pulled both. And, when morning came, Máen was alone upon waking. But he smiled rather than mourn, rising and bidding the resting soul a peaceful afterlife. He would continue his following of the Stars, and they would continue to lead him to storytellers like the old one had been. Stories he could gather and share.

[Me?Sarcastic?]

You know what? Heck it! I've got a couple free afternoons this week so why not?

Owner: Me?Sarcastic?
Show Name: Softly Sing Sweet Bird
Barn Name: Nightingale
Gender: Stallion
Age: Immortal
Halter color: Could we leave it without?
Pearl/jewel color (halter): ^^^
Themes: Pan's Lullaby and Ghosts
Hobby: If Nightingale could ever steal away a moment to do whatever he wanted, there's only one thing he'd want to do. Watch the birds.

He adores birds. He believes them to be the ultimate symbol of freedom and innocence; two things he will never have. He loves how they can soar high above, free to live happily and can escape from this depressing earth into the air. Their sweet voices and beautiful colors fascinate the stallion and, although he's never seen one up close, they seem to be friendly, if not a bit flighty, creatures. He simply adores them and would very much like to someday just observe them for hours on end as they fluttered about. He would also like to categorize them and keep a running record of which ones he has seen and which he still needs to find, although that may require a bit of help in doing. Unfortunately, all of that is only his fantasy of if he had a normal life. 167 words

Picture/story: A soft breeze blew coldly over the midnight blue stallion as he walked slowly towards a mare and foal. In the breeze there was a sound; something melancholy and far away. It was the dead of night. The moon shone solemnly down on Nightingale as he trudged towards the horses. The noise in the breeze grew, and as it did, it began to sound almost like a song; something lonely and sad, as if some great tragedy had happened. Nightingale came to a stop in front of the sleeping mare and foal. A look of pain in his eyes, he kneeled down next to the foal and touched his horn to it's side. His horn glowed a deep blue and that glow spread over the foal. Then, all of a sudden,

the foal body began to turn to cinders, his entire body disintegrating slowly until nothing was left but ash. The breeze caught the ashes and they went swirling, flying far away into the night sky. Nightingale watched as they went, then looked mournfully at the mare. Her face had gone from peaceful to forlorn in a matter of seconds.
The tall stallion stood, and with one last glance at the mare, he walked away. At that moment his own body turning to ash, but at this point Nightingale was no longer scared by that. This was his life. Appearing only to make another disappear, leaving sorrow and misery in his wake. Then disappearing himself only to be remade for the next death. His only purpose was to cause suffering, and he despised himself for it. He didn't have a clue what had created him, or why, but he did know one thing for sure, he was a curse upon the race of horses.
Only once had he tried defying his curse; for a young mare named Epithymía, which ironically means wish in Greek.



She was laying in the grass, chest heaving and blood pouring from an open wound on her shoulder. Nightingale looked at her, about his age if he had been mortal, and more beautiful than any mare the stallion had even seen. Upon seeing her lying there, helpless and in pain, Nightingale all at once felt like his chest was being ripped to shreds. He wouldn't, he couldn't, condemn this mare to death. So instead, he did something he had never tried before; he shouted out for help. Nightingale had never spoken before. He'd never needed to, but this time was different. The sound of his voice was strange to his ears. It was gruff from lack of use, yet kind of...singsongy. Like the ravens he sometimes would hear crowing when he would appear.
Suddenly, more horses came sprinting towards Nightingale. Two, to be exact. Two perfect healthy, awake horses. Nightingale had never seen that before. Soon, the horses reached him, one ran to the bleeding mare's side

and nudged her with distress. A small moan of pain revealed that she was alive. The other horse, a tall stallion with piercing blue eyes, charged straight up to Nightingale. He held his ground, and the foreign horse stopped only inches from his face. "What have you done to Epithymía!?" He demanded angrily.
"I have done nothing. I found her like this and I called for help." Nightingale replied calmly.
""Boreas, we need to get her help. NOW!" This came from the other new horse, a winsome mare with a flowing silvery mane that looks as if it had been dipped in blue ink.
"Yes, of course." He said to the mare. "You're coming with us, stranger. Make yourself useful and help us carry our sister." The stallion, now identified as Boreas commanded. Then he trotted over to his injured sister and began to help. Nightingale hesitated, wondering if he should run for it. It didn't seem like he was deteriorating this time, but his curiosity about these horses, and concern for the wounded mare, kept him from leaving. Instead, he came up beside the other two horses and helped to maneuver her onto their backs. Finally, she was positioned in a fairly secure spot, and they began to move as a little clump towards a far off group of horses.
After a long, precarious trek, at last the little trio reached the herd, and at once, several horses came up to greet them and take the injured mare away. Nightingale felt dazed, like this was all a dream. He'd never even met one horse, let alone an entire herd. What would they think of him? Would they ask questions about his past? how would he explain why he was there?
He was broken out of his thoughts when the mare from earlier approached him. Now that he was a bit more calm, the stallion noticed that she was pretty young. Five, at most.
"I don't think we ever got properly introduced. I'm Epizón, and the angry one is my brother Boreas. The mare you found is our sister, Epithymía and Boreas is a bit protective of her. Anyways, I haven't seen you around before."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Nightingale, and I don't expect you to have, I'm simply passing through here."
"Ah, a lone traveler. You don't see many of those anymore..."
"Woah, what's up with that thing on your head? It's glowing black! You OK? Do you need a doctor?"
"Yes, yes. I'm fine. I've had that all my life. Although it doesn't normally glow."
"Oh, OK. Well, thank you for saving my sister."
"I didn't save her."
"Yes you did. If you hadn't found her and called for help, she might've died. So in return, please stay the night with us."
"But-"
"I insist!"
Nightingale laugh. "Very well. But just for the night."

It wasn't just for the night. In fact, Nightingale stayed for years. He learned so much about horse custom and became friends with almost everyone in the herd, even Boreas eventually came around to him. But there was one horse especially who he became very close with. The very horse who had changed his fate forever, Epithymía. After she recovered, the first person she wanted to see, besides her siblings, was Nightingale. Immediately there was a connection. In fact, Epithymía was the first horse Nightingale told about his past...



"What is it?"
"What're you talking about?"
"You only bird watch when your feeling worried. What's wrong?"
"It's nothing. Just something that happened a long time ago."
"What?"
Silence.

"You know you can tell me anything, but if it's to painful..."
"No. No I should to tell someone, or else it might eat me away." He took a deep breath. "The truth is I wasn't there to save you that night when you were attacked. I was there to kill you."
"-What? But that can't be-"
"It is. You see, I'm no ordinary horse."
"Well that I know already. You're a unicorn, rare and majestic and amazing."
"But there's something else. You see, every unicorn has an ability they are born with; a power above the natural because of our magic. This ability is held in our horns, which sometimes glow we use our gift, although mine has been glowing for no reason lately... but anyways, for some this power is positively charged: like healing, empathy, or command over light. For others it's something more negatively charged like the ability to control others, tell the future, or have command over darkness and shadows. But for me, I have something rare, something that keeps you from ever having a normal life. I was born with the curse of being a grim reaper. When any living being with a soul is dying, either of sickness or injury... even old age, I come and take them away to the underworld. Many humans made myths about me and the other immortals. They called me Charon. Silly, I know. Humans can never get things right. But again I'm getting off track. The point is, I only existed when I was to take a soul. Afterwards I'd disappear into the night sky. It was like I'd die with the person, and then only live again to die again and so forth, and I despise myself for it. But when I saw you... I couldn't bear to take you away. You were so full of life... so I didn't do my job, and by some miracle, I've stayed alive. And I'm just worried the time will come when I vanish again and lose you and-"
"Hey. Look at me. That's not gonna happen. Whatever you may have done, it's in the past, and from the sound of it, it wasn't even your fault! Your here now, with me! Promise me you won't worry about this."
"Epithymía, I-"
"Promise!"

"I Promise."

After that night, he truly did keep to his promise, and eventually his past faded into a distant memory. However, one thing remained. Every year, on the night which he saved Epithymía, his horn would glow brightly and a burning sensation would course through his body. At first the pain was only small; a minor discomfort, but every year it grew, and the light from his horn became stronger, until that day exactly five years after saving Epithymía.

"You nervous?" Epithymía asked with concern.
"Nah, why would I be? The fact that last year this stupid horn burnt an entire field to the ground, along with he fact that this year will be even worse is totally easy to handle." Nightingale responded sarcastically. Epithymía chuckled.
"Alright, if you say so, then I think my work here is done." She said, and then pretended to walk away.
"No wait. Yes, I'm very nervous, about the light, about the pain. Everything. What if it never stops growing? What if it becomes so bad that I can't keep you safe from it?"
"Yes because I'M the one you should be worried about. Besides, that's not gonna happen. We'll figure out how to fix it, but for now, we just have to manage. Just remember, I'll be right here waiting for you once it's over."
"I'm counting on that. I love you, Epithymía."
"I love you too."
And with that, Nightingale set off. A few days earlier, he, Epithymía, Boreas, and Epizón had sought out a place for him to go; somewhere he wouldn't hurt anyone and that there weren't many flammable objects. They'd settled on a slow-moving river in the middle of a huge field with only little weeds for miles. It was perfect.
Finally, the midnight blue stallion reached his destination. He walked slowly into the water, and readied himself for the pain that should ensue any minute now... Any minute...

An hour passed, two hours. Nothing.
An enormous wave of relief swept over Nightingale. No longer would he have to deal with the burning pain, or the bright flashes, or...
Suddenly, a strangely familiar feeling overcame the stallion. It started in his legs, then crept slowly up his back towards his chest and neck. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw ashes floating in the air. It clicked.
"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Help! He-" Suddenly his voice was gone. No matter how loudly he tried to scream, there was no sound. It was even more quick than usual. Just before everything went black, he heard a familiar voice.
"Nightingale? Nightingale, where are you?!"

You can't escape fate, Nightingale!"

A soft breeze blew coldly over the midnight blue stallion as he walked slowly towards a mare and foal. In the breeze there was a sound; something melancholy and far away. It was the dead of night. The moon shone solemnly down on Nightingale as he trudged towards the horses. The noise in the breeze grew, and as it did, it began to sound almost like a song; something lonely and sad, as if some great tragedy had happened. Nightingale came to a stop in front of the sleeping mare and foal. A look of pain in his eyes, he kneeled down next to the foal and touched his horn to it's side. His horn glowed a deep blue and that glow spread over the foal. Then, all of a sudden, the foal body began to turn to cinders, his entire body disintegrating slowly until nothing was left but ash. The breeze caught the ashes and they went swirling, flying far away into the night sky. Nightingale watched as they went, then looked mournfully at the mare. Her face had gone from peaceful to forlorn in a matter of seconds.
The tall stallion stood, and with one last glance at the mare, he walked away. At that moment his own body turning to ash, but at this point Nightingale was no longer scared by that. This was his life. Appearing only to make another disappear, leaving sorrow and misery in his wake.

Then disappearing himself only to be remade for the next death. His only purpose was to cause suffering, and he despised himself for it. He didn't have a clue what had created him, or why, but he did know one thing for sure, he was a curse upon the race of horses.
Only once had he tried defying his curse; for a young mare named Epithymía, which ironically means wish in Greek...
(2,180 words. I may have gotten carried away...)

[Rescue2001]

Owner:
Show Name:
Barn Name:
Gender:Stallion
Age:
Halter color:
Pearl/jewel color (halter):
Picture/story:

[Yuroshi]

Mark too pretty

[neamrel]

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*winner can have pictures
as long as my name stays
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xxx

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬(A R E N E V E R L O Y A L)▬▬▬▬

Owner: endless fall.
Show Name: Last Man Standing
Barn Name: Dynasty
Gender: Stallion
Age: 27 yrs old
Halter color: White
Pearl/jewel color (halter): Eye color
Picture: 1 headshot + 1 fullbody

Personality: some may say words mean more than anything - to this one though, they mean nothing. words can easily be shaped and formed to do ones own bidding. money on the other hand, well that can never be altered, and if you want his help better pay up. need to know something, then you better convince him with some cold, hard silver to tell you what he knows. we don't work for free after all. you can whisper honeyed words at him all night sweetheart, but it won't get you anywhere. with biting remarks and a cheeky smirk, stick around him for awhile and you'll find that perhaps the most becoming thing about him is just his looks. he answers with words made of teeth, and is far from compliant. you won't get him to follow your orders unless he has good reason to. despite all of this, this man is more bark than bite. fights? those are for children, and we don't roll that way around here.

Hobby: i... hope this works?? idk >> if not pls let me know if you happen to check these
through the eye's of one of my OC's Avallac'h
despite his size, i don't actually hear him approach. strange, but i pin it being due to me minding my business and not really caring for those around. i give him no sign that i actually know he's there, but i can't help but feel he knows that i've noticed him.
"what's a fancy schmuck like you doing here?" one of my ears twitch and i raise a brow, angling my head towards him in question. he has a brow raised in return, yellow eyes staring into my white ones.
"what makes you ask that?" i question him in return, and his gaze seems to turn just an edge more calculating. i immediately understand the feeling i'm getting from him.
"wearing a bright red cloak, gold beads - it's not much but you can't tell me that you aren't from somewhere high class." this man doesn't know that he's not necessarily wrong, but i worked my way up to the position i once held. the things i wore were simple reminders now. he doesn't have to know that of course. "i have my reasons for being here." is all i say as i angle my head away from him. the laugh he gives out catches me by surprise. it's sudden and has an edge to it, almost as if he swallowed some nails. i can't help but find that it's oddly fitting.
"don't we all." he mutters as he hitches a foot and relaxes. seems he'll be sticking to my side for the time being then.
"well, why are you here then?" i question him, my voice far smoother than his. i see him turn his head towards me with a sharp smirk on his face.
"to watch." that catches my attention, and I slowly turn my head back towards him. "watch?" i repeat. he hums, his smirk turning a little knowing. he knows that he's piqued my curiosity, and i don't like it.
"yup. you can learn a lot just by watching." i know this already of course, i tend to watch others around me while waiting, but i hardly go searching for a place to do it." "how dull." i say, giving away none of my thoughts. his smirk is still firmly on his face.
"maybe, but a hobby's a hobby."
"that's what you call a hobby?" i immediately shoot back, he gives a gruff chuckle. it's still sharp despite the shortness of it. if that was his hobby, i wondered what he considered 'fun'.
"listen, you need something? ... i'm sure i could help ya out." he comments a moment later. i already know i have higher morals than this one does, so i know that nothing good could come from accepting his offer.
"no thanks. have fun watching." i saw as i begin to move away. even as the distance between us grows, i'm able to hear his parting words: "oh believe me, i will."

[Firealone]

Owner:Firealone
Show Name:Starry Night
Barn Name:Astraeus(starry one)
Gender:Stallion
Age:unknown
Halter color:surprise!
Pearl/jewel color (halter):eye color
Picture/story:

[Tazaria]

Owner:
Show Name:
Barn Name:
Gender:Stallion
Age:
Halter color:
Pearl/jewel color (halter):
Picture/story:


res!

[Queen Vivane]

Owner:
Queen Chrysalis

Show Name:
On A Night Like This

Barn Name:
Rembulan

Gender:
Stallion

Age:
4

Halter color:
Silver

Pearl/jewel color (halter):
White

Story:
(hobby is looking after/protecting the local wildlife)
He nudged his nose gently against the velvety side of the small rabbit, pushing it forward ever so slightly. The unicorn had been protecting the nest for two weeks, seeing that no harm would come to the tiny creatures. The little ones were old enough to explore the outside world now and the majority of the babies were hopping around investigating everything. Except for one. It had frozen just outside of the nest nose tiny nose twitching near constantly.

Rembulan hadn't moved from his position to the left of the nest, rather stretched his neck out just a little bit in order to try and physically encourage the little one to move. He was rather young still but he felt at peace watching over the wildlife that shared the lands around his home. The dark unicorn gently gave the rabbit a slightly firmer nudge. She couldn't sit there forever and her brothers and sisters would move on without her if she wasn't careful.

As he breathed in he caught the smell of something on the wind, his ears flicked up as he breathed in once more. The acrid scent filled his nostrils, wariness crept into his mind and he stood slowly. The high frantic call of another horse had the unicorn turning swiftly on the spot. Juri skidded to a halt a few paces away from him, eyes and body language indicating fear.

"Rembulan we have to go, there's a fire and we're right in its path!" The double pearl mare panted.

"Warn as many others as you can Juri, I'll see to it anyone else here in this field is sent toward safety" he spoke softly trying to ease the other Khims worries. She nodded and sped off toward the closest field with signs of life. The unicorn turned his attention back to the rabbits taking note that the mother had arrived.

"Mother rabbit I suggest you take your babies and head toward my home, it is out of the fires path" he said quietly to the mother rabbit.

"Thank you Rembulan, for keeping watch after my children and myself" the rabbit replied and gave his leg a nuzzle before herding her babies away. He nodded to her, setting his pale gaze on the forest. There was no doubt in his mind that there would be creatures in the forest who had not yet smelt the smoke or heard about the fire. Springing forward he quickly pushed himself into speedy canter, he had to save any he could it was far to important not to.

wip