I would like to participate:
Username: Wobbuffet
Raffle Ticket #: 1
Applying for Equid: #1 Wrath
Raffle Ticket #: 2
Applying for Equid: #9 Pride
Raffle Ticket #: 3
Applying for Equid: #13 Gluttony
Raffle Ticket #: 4
Applying for Equid: #2 Patience
1st Optional Extra Ticket Applied To: #1 Wrath
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The stench of brimstone hung heavily in the air. The battlefield was hot, humid, yet even under layer upon layer of armor, the scales of metal coiling up his legs and across his withers like snakes, Wrath could feel a chill run down his spine. This wasn't his first battle, far from it, but despite the whispers of those below him, war had never been something he had enjoyed.
It was pointless, really. He knew, logically, that no amount of violence would undo the ways he'd been wronged, nor bring back those he'd lost. He'd never understood when others discussed the "thrill" of the battle, either. In fact, every time he'd donned his armor, he felt as though he were also putting on an invisible cloak of terror. It sat heavily over his back, dragging him down to the earth, making him feel as though he were trapped beneath its weight.
Wrath wasn't named for his fear, however. From the time he was but a foal, he had always had a voice inside him, shouting in his heart. It must be done, that he must lead the others, that he must go fight, that he must risk it all. The voice set the cloak ablaze, its flames blinding him to all else but his goal: lead, fight, risk everything. It felt like more than just a duty; it was his purpose, his sole purpose.
Frantic hoofbeats drew Wrath back to the present. He didn't want to be here. He needed to be here. He hated being here, but his hatred for the injustices faced by those he loved burned stronger. He didn't want to be this way, but this was who he was. His nostrils flared as he took a breath, steeling himself. Wrath lifted his hooves, hesitating for only a breath before charging headlong into the flames of battle.
2nd Optional Extra Ticket Applied To: #9 Pride
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Pride was beautiful, and anyone would be foolish to deny it. From his elegant stature to his stunning coat, it was nearly impossible for him not to be the instant center of attention when he walked into a room. However, behind his noble mask, Pride was very much the type to shyly observe from afar, keeping to himself until the moment was right. In truth, it was not his appearance, but rather those he loved that he felt the most pride in. He wanted others to feel confident, to see themselves how he saw them, and embrace who they were.