[Eremite]

A (to be) purple roan! not for adoption yet, i'm gonna make sure it isnt too purple

Ok, she is good to go! Best name wins her

Code: Select all

Username:
Name:
Meaning:
Color: Purple Roan Splash White
Height:
Gender: Mare
Age:
Short Story(optional):


[bobashob]

Username: bobashob
Name: Abigale
Meaning: Gives joy
Color: Purple Roan Splash White
Height: 16.2 hh
Gender: Mare
Age: 4
Short Story (optional): This takes place in 1860-1865, just letting you know.
Rifle shots rang out over the open prairie of camp. I darted my head up, quickly locating where they came from. As i stare a group of soldiers walk over the crest of a hill with a pronghorn carried by all of them. As they come more in to view people rush to them, full of joy to have actual meat. I much prefer grass, not meat. I look to my master as his tent flap sweeps open. As a smile breaks on his weary face my heart fills with joy. As they skin and cook the prong horn silent men sit around the fire, eager for the strip of meat they are entitled. As soon as the meat is cooked water is thrown over the fire. A single strand of smoke is the only evidence that a fire was there at all. As the men eat the a bugle sounds thought out the camp. At that i prepare for the horrors of battle. My saddle is thrown on hastily and in minutes we are headed out to battle, full of bravery. As we trot onward we are silent. A strategy we use since the enemy is so close. As the wind blows my forelock i smell thousands of men on the horizon. Then in an instant i am urged to a gallop as the men give a wild cry of battle. As i race through the knee high grass the wind tears at my mane whips in my masters face and my tail flows behind me like a banner. As my master raised his rifle i cried out to warn my friends ahead of us, for rifles aren't that accurate. As we plow through the enemy men fall from their horses in pain or in the silent grip of death. Then in a moment my back is light. As that millisecond of shock goes through i cry out in pain. I frantically look for the man who did this to my master. As i turn around i see smoke coming out of the barrel of a grey clad solider. I rush at him and he runs in surprise. I quickly run back to my master as he lies on the ground dying. I kick and bite at any man or horse that comes near my master. As i stand protecting my master the sun sets over this bloody battle scene, with darkness crawling forward. Doctors come rushing out to help the wounded men. A they rush onward i call to let them know that my master needs help. AS they put him on a stretcher i follow. Only when somebody grabs my reins and the men enter the hospital tent do i realize how exhausted i am. I cry out a final call to my master, letting him know that i am here for him, and that he will live through this war.

[Eremite]

ENDS THE 17TH OF MAY AT 12PM EST.

[Eremite]

Username: bobashob
Name: Abigale
Meaning: Gives joy
Color: Purple Roan Splash White
Height: 16.2 hh
Gender: Mare
Age: 4
Short Story (optional): This takes place in 1860-1865, just letting you know.
Rifle shots rang out over the open prairie of camp. I darted my head up, quickly locating where they came from. As i stare a group of soldiers walk over the crest of a hill with a pronghorn carried by all of them. As they come more in to view people rush to them, full of joy to have actual meat. I much prefer grass, not meat. I look to my master as his tent flap sweeps open. As a smile breaks on his weary face my heart fills with joy. As they skin and cook the prong horn silent men sit around the fire, eager for the strip of meat they are entitled. As soon as the meat is cooked water is thrown over the fire. A single strand of smoke is the only evidence that a fire was there at all. As the men eat the a bugle sounds thought out the camp. At that i prepare for the horrors of battle. My saddle is thrown on hastily and in minutes we are headed out to battle, full of bravery. As we trot onward we are silent. A strategy we use since the enemy is so close. As the wind blows my forelock i smell thousands of men on the horizon. Then in an instant i am urged to a gallop as the men give a wild cry of battle. As i race through the knee high grass the wind tears at my mane whips in my masters face and my tail flows behind me like a banner. As my master raised his rifle i cried out to warn my friends ahead of us, for rifles aren't that accurate. As we plow through the enemy men fall from their horses in pain or in the silent grip of death. Then in a moment my back is light. As that millisecond of shock goes through i cry out in pain. I frantically look for the man who did this to my master. As i turn around i see smoke coming out of the barrel of a grey clad solider. I rush at him and he runs in surprise. I quickly run back to my master as he lies on the ground dying. I kick and bite at any man or horse that comes near my master. As i stand protecting my master the sun sets over this bloody battle scene, with darkness crawling forward. Doctors come rushing out to help the wounded men. A they rush onward i call to let them know that my master needs help. AS they put him on a stretcher i follow. Only when somebody grabs my reins and the men enter the hospital tent do i realize how exhausted i am. I cry out a final call to my master, letting him know that i am here for him, and that he will live through this war.