[Oddly Shaded]

Name: Snowfall
Height: 15hh
Gender: Stallion
Coat Colour: Rose Grey Fewspot Appaloosa
Quipping: Reverse Thick Regular
Eye: Viridian

Current Owner: Sunnidew

[Ralonica]

owner: Ralonica
Name:
Height:

[dragongoddest]

lines by northern red
color shading and edits by me


owner: dragongoddest
Name: snowcap
Height: 11


by jaggerz236


by jaggerz236

story

(i have riders on horse since wme can not be ridden they are rounding them up to pull carts)

The shouts of old and profoundly stupid men made their way through the pasture and before long, about a dozen of them arose from the hill and rode towards the herd. Every single one of them was riding on an old friend of mine. I still remember how they were, how some would push the little ones out of their way to be the first to drink from a stream, how some would shout and protest the speed of the herd, choosing to slow their pace in order to support the older ones who couldn’t keep up. Some were frightened by the night, some laughed until they couldn’t breathe. Now they had muzzles over their faces and no souls behind the eyes.

Their voices rose up into the air, the smell of booze everywhere across the graze. The men began to circle us, faces had been hidden by masks and now their hands held lassos. Why, I wondered in terror, why must they always cover their faces? Very quickly, they darted to us. The collective instinct of the herd was shattered and in less than a moment, we all went running in different directions, every horse for himself. Even the little ones were forced to cower of their own volition. Running through my head was an assortment of options which grew more and more limited by the second. Before I could consider anything further, I was jolted from my thoughts by my lovely Blinker, who shouted at me while he ran.

“Protect the little ones!” he said.
He turned his face to three small, frightened things. I can only assume he comforted them as he reared up a kick and shot down the man riding towards him. I saw another man riding to the right of him, lasso whipping in the air. I ran past Blinker and the little ones and rode straight to him. His “horse” (if you can call them such a thing anymore) and I butted heads and his rider was on the ground shortly after. What I wanted more than anything was to move up on my hind legs and come down hard on him, but as the scene was only growing more hectic, I returned to Blinker.

The circle around us was now partially destroyed. Some of us were able to escape, others met ropes around their necks in trying to do so. Blinker was able to get the little ones out safely, and I met with him to discuss our options.

“What do we do?” I shouted in a panic.

“Try and keep this way clear,” he told me, “Right now, it’s the only way out we’ve got.”

As more and more of us escaped the grasp of these monsters, the circle began disappearing, and those that formed it took a more volatile role in our herd’s demise. Lassos out, strangling my friends, humans on their backs like filthy insects, the most common parasites of our age. I saw the old Crow horse lassoed up and begging for his life at the whim of these beasts, and quickly I ran to him and reared up a kick to bring his terrorizers to their end. Poor old Crow ran off with the rope still around him, still believing he was doomed as he finally got out of the circle. I heard some of the men laughing.

“Look at that one!” said one of them, “Look at him run off with your lasso, Jenny!”

It wasn’t long before they got their hands on Blinker. The rope came clean around him. Now there were more of them than there were of us. I was the only one that could help him. Blinker cried and spurred but it was no use. The rider knew exactly what he was doing. And I was so distracted by this terrifying image that I didn’t even notice the rope around me until I felt one of them crawling over my back.

Immediately, I felt sick, violated, and I begged and cried for a way out. I began spurring around violently, hoping that they would consider me so uncivilized that it was of no use to try. So I kept lashing, lashing until the inevitable conclusion could be reached.

[elderling]

owner: elderling
Name: Weft
Height: 14hh

[KathrynKat]

owner: KathrynKat
Name: Jack
Height: 14.3hh

Home: Partially wild, but has a human family that he visits and even stays with. He even is fairly trained, but you still can't take the wild out of this boy, and he prefers to run free for days at a time. The longer he's kept captive, the longer he'll be wandering free before he returns again.

Personality:
- Quirky & Goofy
- Very Social
- Show-Off
- Joyful
- Hard Worker
- Wild at Heart
- Loyal To His Human Family

Jack only can remember life in the wild, before he had met his human family. Unfortunately, Jack had been on a day of a bad snowstorm. His mother had been split up from the herd, and she got stuck with going to the quietest forest in the mountains. Most of the critters and predators, were either in hibernation or hiding from the snowstorm. It was quiet but cold. The cold didn't help for keeping Jack warm when he was born. So his mother had to get him up on his feet quickly and groomed him while waiting for him to take his first steps. After she managed to get him walking, she lead him to a nearby cave, but unfortunately, that cave was not only occupied by other animals, it was iced over. So she encouraged him for a long stroll, on his first day on earth. After a long stroll, they came across a hot spring. The 2 walked into it to start warming up, then stepped out and lied down for a cuddle by the hot spring to keep warm until the snow storm slowed down and eventually stopped. It took a couple of days for Jack and his mother, to find their herd.

Jack may live his life in the wild most of the time. But he does have a human family, and a job as well. A few times per month, he's brought into town to pull a carriage to give rides!

Jack's favorite time to help pull the carriage?:
During the Holiday Events and Fairs in town. He especially loves to pull the sleighs with jingling bells, and listen to all of the carols sang around Christmas time.

Jack's favorite time to work?:
Jack has had so many good memories of pulling the carriage at night. He maybe social, but he also likes when it's more peaceful and quiet as well. Sometimes he's down for the early mornings, but always in a much perkier mood at night time.

Jack's favorite memory while doing his job?:
Jack was only pulling a sleigh and carriage for a few months
at this point. It was 1 very snowy day, and he had started his
job that day by afternoon until late night. There were many
children playing in the afternoon, and many would come by
to give him pets and treats every time he stopped for a break.
He'd get usually ten minutes or more of a break each time he
just gave a ride. This special day, a child hung out with him
for over twenty minutes while waiting for the next ride to
give. It was a little chilly, so the child had asked his owner,
and then wrapped a scarf around his neck, and said that he
can keep it. Ever since this day, if it's a snowy day, and
especially one where he's pulling the sleigh, he expects
the scarf to be wrapped around his neck. There even been
a few times he had ran into the child that gave him the scarf,
and is always so excited to see him wearing it. So as long as
it's a wintery and cold day, he is wearing that scarf during his job!

[jensen ackles]

--
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owner: jensen ackles
Name: inari
Height: 11.2 hh

art by verseo

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[Expresso.]

owner:
Name:
Height: mork

[Toffi~]

- nvm sorry for taking up space -

[Sp00kEHours]

owner: Sp00kEHours
Name: SRR's Watch Out for that Avalanche "Drift"
Height: 15 hh
Wild or Domestic?: Domestic
Skiijoring for WMEs: Traditionally, skiijoring with equines involved the one skiing and a rider on their horse. It is a fine dance between the horseman, their mount, and the one they are pulling behind them. As Wild Mountain Equids cannot be ridden, they compete in a category of skiijoring all on their own; riderless. This event is less about flashy tricks / acquiring rings or flags and more about the form of the one skiing as well as their time. It is a delicate balance between traditional skiijoring and training the WME to respond to lead pressure and - on occasion - verbal command, depending on the trainer and the mount. Wild Mountain Equids are traditionally geared as if they are going to pull a cart, though their bridle does not have the traditional blinders on it.
A Day in Glory

The memories of past applause were roars of thunder in his ears as his trailer pulled into the event parking lot. Bright green eyes wild with anticipation, Drift peered through his climate controlled trailer window and out at the snowy scene that stretched before him; a full parking lot of vehicles belonging to both equine owners and the athletes themselves. He knew the routine by now - had known it for years at that point - and that day was going to be no exception. As the truck hauling him slowed, Drift snorted, his hooves beating against the floor of his trailer restlessly. When the vehicle turned and came to a stop, he couldn't help but to toss his head back and whinny into the cool air. Unsurprisingly, a handful of familiar voices called back to him - some in his native tongue as a Wild Mountain Equid, and some in a dialect that he didn't understand, but knew were likely Quarter Horses and Mustangs that had been chosen to help competitors that day. He didn't have to understand what they were saying to get that they were not greeting him with the same enthusiasm that Drift greeted the day with.

That wasn't uncommon. Drift was well known in the skiijoring circuit for his speed and stride, and there were many Equines that didn't appreciate his hot-shot personality. He wasn't entirely sure about their reasons for why, though, as horses that supported their riders on their back were in a different event than Wild Mountain Equids were. As his human exited the truck, slamming the door as he often did, Drift began to shift his weight between his front feet, almost dancing eagerly. Some would argue that Drift had poor manners and needed to settle down, but as long as Drift behaved long enough to be geared up and get into line safely, that was all that mattered to his handler. He wasn't going to be punished for enjoying his job.

The trailer was opened, and Drift turned his head to look at his handler, his eyes still wide and wild with eagerness. Despite his excitement, he would never do something as reckless as to trample his man just to get outside of the trailer. He was patient as the human clipped his lead rope to his green halter - a shade that matched his eyes - and did his best to stay calm as they walked out of the trailer together. Next was a simple routine; he'd get a bucket of warm water, his human would take a few moments to stretch each of his legs carefully, and then he was being decked out in his gear.

Decked out in his competition gear, Drift was flashy. The leather was well kept, the hames fitting him comfortably, and the Equid's tail curled fluidly behind him as he was lead by his handler across the event grounds. He did his best not to get too excited, not wanting to risk stomping on the human's boots, but he did toss his head a couple of times - he was only an equine, after all. His handler was used to his antics by then and didn't falter in his stride, leading the tall Wild Mountain Equid toward the area that the competitors waited for their turn.

Once they arrived, he was guided into a stall to wait with access to water and a salt block, and a small chunk of alfalfa. As each competitor's run was quick, and each person went twice, it wouldn't be long before he was drawn out to run. In the meantime, though, he was able to socialize with some of his fellow Equids. Drift would never waste an opportunity to hear what new gossip was spreading through the paddocks like wildfire. It was actually his favorite way to pass the time between his runs.

There was one Equid, however, that would always tell everyone how she saw things without a care for how it would make the others feel. Her amber eyes had hardened slightly with age - though that was not to say she was a cruel mare, only honest to a point of bluntness. She had been running events long before Drift had made his debut, and they had attended many of the same events. Stella.

Drift could recognize her coat and her quipping from a mile away; while she wasn't the flashiest, she was striking enough, and the Appaloosa tossed his head back to offer her a whinny in greeting. The older mare turned her head to look his way and offered a low snort, clearly not impressed by the flashy stallion's behavior. She'd told him on more than one occasion that "foals like him" were meant to be seen, not heard. He couldn't stop his lips from pulling back over his teeth in a big grin when he was let into the stall next to hers, turning his head so that he could look at her. "Granny! Good to see ya this morning," he greeted, his lips falling back over his teeth as he watched his handler turn and walk away, likely going to find the competitor that had managed to afford his fees.

Another snort, and Stella was shuffling in her stall, turning her head so that she could look at him directly. "My mornin' was awfully peaceful before you came trottin' in," she huffed at him, and then her head was turning to the side to watch the distant two-legged traffic as different people passed them by. A couple stopped to look in their direction - particularly towards Drift, as his vibrant appearance had made him quite popular in the skiijoring circuit.

[Scarlip]

Owner: Scarlip
Name: Aeolus
Height: 15hh

WIP