[ I shall edit in Whisky's post soon, I've got to make sure I'm ready to go in the morning before I spend more time posting. xc ]
→ нєα∂ƒιяѕт ιη тнє яινєя ←
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Dark, dappled gray body covered in a thin layer of sweat from exertion, Pilgrim stood perfectly still and postured with head high and ears alert, tangled white tail washing over his hind legs in a slow, lazy rhythm. Considering the tall Thoroughbred had not expected to receive a single response to his call so quickly, it was no surprise when he was overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of three lone mares, all within an equal distance from him; one, a tall chestnut by running stream, even called out to get his attention. Uncertain of who to pursue first, Pilgrim swung his head around to face Alcippe and Criminal, the latter suddenly calling out as well, tossing her heavily scented tail against her hips. That was what made up his decision- he sped himself into an easy canter towards the black Arabian, a low, rumbling nicker dripping from his gray lips. If he had his way, all three mares would join him and he would get a fast start on his new harem, but if he gained even one of them he would be content- just one mare to start off his new herd until he could find more, that was all he needed. A start, a chance to rebuild what he had lost. Pilgrim slowed once he neared Criminal, stretching his muzzle forward curiously, nostrils flared as he took in her heavy scent. She seemed... Calm, and very confident of herself. Pilgrim circled around Criminal once, lowering his pale gray muzzle and lipping at her wispy mane, though he didn't bother grooming or affection to win her over. To be honest, she didn't seem like she needed any convincing anyway- she had already made herself quite comfortable in his presence.- call// pilgrim
age// sixteen
height// 17.2 hands
mood// expectant
rank// bachelor
herd// --
coverings// --
tagged// alcippe,legacy,
criminal
→ ∂σωηтσωη cяιмιηαℓ ←
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Monster was a wrecking ball of a Marwari stallion; standing a good sixteen hands- muscular and stocky and broad, quite a sight to be seen strutting proudly through the lush spring grass. His thick neck bobbed in rhythm with his swift pace, tangled, matted black tail swatting against soft velvet hips in irritation. It had been a mere three days since Monster and Sohta had escaped their two-and-a-half-month experience with captivity after a later winter round-up last year, though to show for it the pair of stallions were plump and strong, perfectly healthy and groomed and at normal weight, unlike most horses coming out of the last winter- these wild mustangs would be thin and matted after the harsh winter, after lack of food and decent water. Upon his legs and hips sat many fine white scars, healed wounds from the harsh whip he got every time he disobeyed a human. The rich ebony Marwari could still hear the sharp, terrifying crack of leather and wire slicing through the air and bouncing off his brawny body- but that was behind him now. Through pink rubbery lips escaped a gravelly, demanding nicker, on the hunt for mares. He had returned to his home, or, well, what he was used to- the wild, the mountains and plains and deserts, and he did not intend to go a single season without starting a new herd. His brother was still with him, though trailing just a bit to close to his side. Monster picked up one sharp back hoof, cracking it back quickly and hitting Sohta's right knee. The younger stallion let out a high-pitched squeal of pain, though instantly backed off and gave Monster his space. The stocky black stallion let out a heavy snort, bobbing his head and letting out a second call, this one louder.- call// monster
age// thirteen
height// 16 hands
mood// irritated
rank// bachelor
herd// --
coverings// --
tagged// sohta
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The world around him looked like a beautiful picture; painted in vibrant greens and blues and earthy browns and yellows. The bright, lush grass swept against strong ivory legs, gently, like an old friend reaching up to welcome Sohta back home. The sky overhead was a powdery blue, the clouds just wispy swirls that danced across the vast open space like foals playing at their mothers' side, casting faint shadows over the earth when they passed in front of the bright yellow sun that hung lazily in the pale sky. And of course, there was Sohta, long, scarred legs carrying him at a sluggish pace through the picturesque meadow, his pale buckskin body scarred and slightly dirty; but in great health. He was a handsome stallion, and he knew it; proudly using his age and muscular, sleek appearance to win over the younger mares with little opposition. His thick neck moved, bobbing ever so slightly in stride with his easy gait, short, pale pelt twitching with slight irritation. One pale blue eye was hidden beneath a wispy tan and brown forelock, the other scouring the world he was passing through, tearing up each and every little detail of the meadow around him, one long oval ear pressed firmly back against his large skull, the other twitching from side to side, though all he could hear was faint songs of birds, tucked snugly into their nests perched high in the branches of trees that were few and far between. A loud, heavy exhale of breath was forced out of large, flared crescent-shaped nostrils as Sohta offered a bored huff to the still world. Several moments of quiet traveling passed and Sohta slowly strayed closer and closer to his older brother, only to be rewarded with a strong, painful kick to his right front knee. Instantly, a loud, high-pitched squeal burst from his muzzle, and the younger stallion lurched forward, falling onto front knees for a moment, only causing himself more pain before he finally rocked himself back up onto all four hooves. A stream of deep, rich crimson spilled down his leg, staining the white fur there and leaving a trail in the grass. Sohta snorted, pinning his ears against his skull and moving to walk on the other side of monster, sure to leave at least a few yards between them at all times. The younger Buckskin stallion stretched his muzzle forward, letting out a low, rumbling nicker as well, wanting to find some mares juts as much as his brother, although he wasn't as cruel as the ebony Marwari.- call// sohta
age// ten
height// 16.2 hands
mood// irritated;calm
rank// bachelor
herd// --
coverings// --
tagged// monster
→ тнιѕ тιмє ℓιєѕ ωση'т єχρℓαιη ←
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There was nothing to be heard but the pounding of hooves and heavy, ragged breaths as a ghostly Arabian stud seemingly flew down the steep hill separating him from the valley, and the horses it contained. His long, wispy, snow white tail was flagged proudly up over his scarless back. Clumps of grass and damp soil flew away from his skidding hooves as the young stallion slid to a swift stop, a loud, booming squeal fleeing from his velvet muzzle as he flung the front half of his body into the air, boxing forward with tan and gray hooves, making nothing less than a bold entrance, making sure his presence was known to the valley. He was an Arabian after all- he was proud, he wanted all eyes to be on him, for he was the greatest stud around! Landing back on all four hooves with a light thud the ghostly stallion struck his front legs forward, moving back into an up-beat trot, dished face held high and ears standing alert atop his regal head. His long, soft white tail whipped against his hips, nostrils flared as he took in a the scents around him, a loud, booming nicker fleeing his muzzle. It had been a long time since Poet had been around other horses, and he wondered how the new horses here would receive him. He hoped he would be able to start a herd- though he was still quite young, so perhaps he would find an older stallion to follow for a while, until he was able to better keep a band of mares. Being and Arabian, he wasn't as large and muscular as some of the mustangs or heavier breeds, but he was fast and light of his feet, giving him a fair fighting chance, since the heavier horses were slower moving; able to pose stronger attacks, but fewer of them, while Poet could get in lots of small, fast ones, and he could hopefully tire out any larger horses. Of course, none of that would matter for a couple years, until he was more experienced and older, but that wouldn't stop Poet from trying to start a herd.- call// poet
age// seven
height// 15.1 hands
mood// expectant
rank// bachelor
herd// --
coverings// --
tagged// --
→ вℓσσ∂ яє∂ ѕυммєя ←
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Axel's thick, tangled black tail swatted harshly against golden hips, a low, gritty snort exiting large, dark nostrils as the ever-angry little Lusitano lifted one thin, agile front leg up, roughly rubbing her scarred muzzle against it before throwing it back down with a heavy thump, lifting her glittering, near-black eyes to the quiet world around her. Even in peace and solitude Axel was nothing short of irritated and upset, but perhaps that was due to the little five-year-old colt whom had thought it just a fantastic idea to try and snake the violent, hate-filled mare not long ago. It would take a determined, experienced stallion to capture and keep Axel, and in her long lifetime very few stallions had managed to do so. To those who did, however, the ornery mustang had been a faithful- if not short-tempered and violent- companion and most times, an excellent lead for their usually sorrowful herds. She had no doubts that this year a fair number of stallions would try their hand at taming her, though she wondered if any of them would be competent enough to actually earn her respect. She doubted it. Axel let loose another low snort, dragging one gray hoof forward across the earth before lowering her narrow chiseled muzzle down to graze idly. For the time being,however, Axel had earned her solitude, and she would make use of it. Fill her belly, get some rest, wait for the next stallion to come along and try to snake her. If she was lucky it would be awhile, but knowing how rowdy and needy stallions were come spring, it was likely she would encounter another soon.- call// axel
age// seventeen
height// 15 hands
mood// irritated
rank// lone mare
heat// stage one
stallion// --
tagged// --
→ ∂αηcιηg ση тнє νєgαѕ ѕтяιρ ←
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Blunt, stained teeth tore hungrily at the new, juicy green grass that had broken out from under the snow, spreading and covering the new spring world like a plague. A very tasty plague. Especially after months of dead, sour grass and brittle frozen roots as the only food to be had- it was a welcome change. Finally the little mustang mare lifted her dark bay head, long black forelock obscuring her right eye, though with her left she inspected her surroundings carefully. She knew that with spring came more colts, fresh out of their fathers' herds and ready to show the world that they were a gift so graciously given to the species of equines by prancing about proudly and trying to do what they could not- start herds. Vegas hated such colts, unless they were her own. And even then... The bay roan let out a heavy snort, twitching her dark scented tail against her hind legs before lowering her head, continuing to fill her belly with the lush grass. Vegas was a difficult mare from the get go, but if a stallion younger than ten came trotting by, expecting her to gush and fawn, she would react violently. The sturdy powerhouse of a mustang mare refused to follow young, incompetent stallions, and she judged based on first glances- the bigger, older, and more aggressive, the more likely to win her over with little protest. Shame, though, because the bigger, older, and more aggressive stallions also tended to have little patience, and Vegas was good at driving even calm, well-mannered stallions to their wits ends. This being said- Vegas knew there was safety in herds, and did not hate them- just the stallions that came with them. So, for the moment, Vegas would content herself to grazing, and if a decent stallion wandered by perhaps she would not run at first glance like she would have a few years ago.- call// vegas
age// fourteen
height// 15.3 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage three
stallion// --
tagged// --
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The tall black mare snorted against the earth, latching her blunt teeth onto a thick patch of grass and ripping it, roots and all, out of the ground. She lifted her heavy curved head, dark eyes looking almost as black as her body and glittering in the hot, golden summer sun. Wet black nostrils were flared, upper lip raised to taste the air. It didn't take long for the violent Friesian cross to uncover the scent of a stallion nearby, and near instantly her long oval ears were pinned against her skull, her head tossed from side to side until she found him, standing atop a hill not far from her. Warrior snorted once more, stomping one sharp, jagged gray hoof down against the grass earth and and dragging it back under her body, leaving deep scars in the soil. Warrior was more picky than anything when it came to stallions, which was why she came off as so aggressive- she would only follow a stallion whom could actually catch her, because those who couldn't weren't good enough for her. Warrior turned her rump in his direction, picking up a brisk trot and striking out with one strong back leg in defiance. Her angry attitude seemed to chase him off well enough, for he didn't pursue, and Warrior soon slowed to a stop once he was out of sight. She was a very violent mare, until you showed her you were worthy of her; then she became a very good friend, a protective companion. - call// warrior
age// eleven
height// 17 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage two
stallion// --
tagged// --
→ тняσυgн тнє ℓσσкιηg gℓαѕѕ ←
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Blunt, yellow stained teeth tore at the prickly green grass, grinding the juicy stalks, snorting slightly and the overly-sweet taste of the new spring grass. She much preferred the more dull flavor it took on come summer and fall, though she was more than grateful for the abundance of food after the extremely barren winter. Her short, chopped tail swatted against her soft spotted haunches, having grown out quite a bit after getting burned almost completely off if a bush fire last summer, aside from a bit close to her dock, however it was still quite short, reaching to just above her knees on her hind legs. Alice leaned forward a few steps, black, marbled hind legs stretched out so she could reach better grass. She was a beautiful mare; if not a bit underweight from winter, her coat soft, slightly longer than your average horse's, giving it a silky, smooth texture. Her legs were almost solid black, her head marbled like a roan, the rest of her body snow white and dusted with bold black spots. She was on the smaller side, however but that didn't affect her bold, brave personality. She acted larger than life, even though many horse were larger and stronger and more impressive than her; she was still a pretty little trophy for any stallion, though.- call// alice
age// ten
height// 14.3 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage three
stallion// --
tagged// --
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It was... lonely. Unnerving. Upsetting, and... chilly. But not as cold as it had been, at least. Not as cold as when she had first been introduced to this new life, this new landscape, what seemed like a lifetime ago although it had been a mere two weeks. Now it was just a chill that came with spring mornings. The early morning air still bit at her short, soft pelt, though, making her hide quiver with unease as she thought of the warm box stall that she had called home for eight, almost nine, years, and the friendly hands that always reached out upon passing, stroking her and praising her and giving her treats. She missed it. What had she done wrong to be left out here to the elements? A soft huff escaped her flared nostrils as the chocolaty mare trudged ever forward, head low and bobbing with each step, burnt cream tail hanging still and dejected between two short, stocky hind legs. Her body was small, stocky, heavy, that of a small draft-which she was- her pelt soft and silky and flawless, mane brushed and wavy. Everything about her, from the way she moved to the way she looked- groomed and flawless, screamed to the world that she was, or rather, had been, a human horse. Two long ears ears pinned against her head, disturbing her creamy mane, and rich brown eyes were cast down, watching her small, shoed gray hooves skip soundlessly along the cold, damp earth, over an ocean of lush green grass.- call// satsuki,suki
age// nine
height// 14.1 hands
mood// lonely
rank// lone mare
heat// stage four
stallion// --
tagged// --
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Whisky had always been a pretty calm, accepting mare- so it was no strange sight to see the tall warmblood ambling slowly towards the valley on long black and bay legs, hoping to find a suitable stallion at her destination, or any stallion for that matter- she was in her last stage of heat after all, making her incredibly interested in males, even more so than usual. Despite being a massive vagabond and relatively unloyal when it came to herds, she did enjoy being in them- she just didn't really care which one. While some mares would go out of their way to devote themselves to their band stallion, and while some went out of their way to stay away from stallions altogether, Whisky just took what came to her in stride, happy to follow whatever stallion won her. While she wouldn't go out of her way to try and leave her current stallion for a different one, if another stallion tried to steal her, she wouldn't put up a fight. That was the stallions' job, after all- she didn't rightly care who she was with. A low, lazy, loud nicker left her velvet maw, near-black eyes raising to look for other horses, possibly a herd she could follow. Whisky let out another soft call, swatting her heavily scented tail against her hips in an attempt to get a stallions attention- no stallion could resist a mare in heat, and she was very much in heat.- call// whiskey
age// eight
height// 16.3 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage four
stallion// --
tagged// lech
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Four long, thin black legs soared over the grassy earth, sharp gray hooves tearing up the ground as Dalish thundered along, tail flagged happily up over her back and a low, rumbling nicker leaving her soft muzzle. It was some time before the impressive blood bay Marwari mare slid to a quick stop, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath, pelt covered in a thin layer of sweat that made the gorgeous mare glitter under the bright sun. Dalish dug one hoof into the damp earth, swatting her lightly-scented black tail against her haunches, not worried about a stallion coming around and finding her. Her scent was light, faint, and so long as she remained quiet, hopefully it would be a few days before she had to start running from stallions again. Then again, they had surprised her in the past. Best to be cautious. Dalish picked up an easy canter, flagging her feathery tail up over her back once more, near-black eyes ripping apart the landscape for a suitable place to rest. She was an absolutely stunning mare; her coat beautiful, always shining under the bright sun, though her disposition was not quite as desirable. She was flighty, sarcastic, far too cunning for her own good, and generally unreliable. She wasn't a very good mother, and was prone to prancing off after a stallion she liked the looks of, even if she was already in a herd, causing more than her fair share of fights because of it. But, she was such a pretty prize than many stallions wanted to fight over her, wanted the pretty, strange Marwari in their herd.- call// dalish
age// six
height// 15.3 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage one
stallion// --
tagged// --
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text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text- call// damsel
age// five
height// 14.2 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage three
stallion// --
tagged// --
→ αятιѕт αη∂ яєρєятσιяє ←
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Two crescent-shaped, moist nostrils flared, letting out a quiet snort again the ground as the young grullo mare fixed her blunt, yellow-stained teeth around a large patch of long, thick grass, pulling her head back and bringing the lush spring grass with her. She had been grazing idly for the last couple days, regaining weight lost during winter, and simply enjoying the vast change of weather. Sparrow had always hated winter- it was too cold, and she was always hungry. The skittish grullo mustang jumped slightly, speeding forward a few steps at the sound of racing hooves and swung her curved muzzle around to see a taller, ghostly white mare racing off towards the forest just a few yards away. Curious as to why she was in such a rush to dive into the home of the local wolf pack, Sparrow let out a loud, high-pitched nicker, wondering if the distant mare would acknowledge her or just keep running.- call// sparrow
age// five
height// 15.1 hands
mood// curious
rank// lone mare
heat// stage four
stallion// --
tagged// moon
→ єℓєcтяιcιту αη∂ cσℓσя ←
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Tesla let a loud, high-pitched whinny burst from her rubbery gray lips as the young mare reached up with her front hooves, boxing at the air in excitement. She returned to the ground with a thump, though wasted no time bolting out over the open meadow happily, lightly scented tail flagged up over her spotted back, nostrils flared and dark brown eyes glittering with keen curiosity. She had just be released from the ranch she'd been born on, and was more than ecstatic to explore her new world without the watchful eyes of the strange humans always on her. She had the long, agile legs of her Thoroughbred mother, and they carried her swiftly over the rich green earth. It felt like a lifetime before Tesla finally slowed to a stop, her side rising and falling rapidly, pretty appaloosa coat covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the exercise. A second loud nicker escaped her, hoping another horse would be nearby; she didn't quite favor being alone. She'd heard plenty of stories about the feral horses and what it was like to be in a herd, and Tesla was more than ready to see what that was like, ready to be in a herd of other mares with some strong, handsome stallion protecting them and foals bouncing around and playing. It would be so much more fun than lazing around a pasture all day with a bunch of boring old mares and geldings, listening to the stallions in the next paddock over screaming in protect because of all the in heat mares so nearby. She wanted some fun, some excitement!- call// tesla
age// four
height// 15.3 hands
mood// curious
rank// lone mare
heat// stage two
stallion// --
tagged// big horse
→ тнє ωιтcн'ѕ тяιαℓ ←
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text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text text- call// salem
age// three
height// 14.3 hands
mood// calm
rank// lone mare
heat// stage two
stallion// --
tagged// --
[ Damsel & Salem are open for anyone as well- I'm just too lazy at the moment to write up starting posts for them. ]
[/quote]
/ Lycana / She/Her / Libra / 
