[Forever Insane]

I haven't made an adoptable in a while so I thought I'd make a stunning stallion, and since its Halloween you have to find me a Halloween themed picture

Code: Select all

Username:
Show Name:
Barn Name:
Age:
Personality:
Picture related to Halloween:

[.Live.Love.Laugh.]

Username:
.Live.Love.Laugh.

Show Name:
Scare Me Insane

Barn Name:
Paranormal

Age:
Seven Years

Breed:
American Paint X Thoroughbred

Sire:
Insane Dance {Thoroughbred}

Dam:
Spook Me Silly {American Paint}

Classification:
Paranormal is a halter horse who does many events such as Barrel Racing, Pole Bending, and Some Jumping/Endurance.

Riders Name:
Sasha Farfield

Personality:
ALL Coming Soon

Poem:

Story:

Art:
Picture related to Halloween:

[siennacereal]

Username: ZombieLuv<3
Show Name: Trick or Treat
Barn Name: Hallow
Age: 5
Personality: wip<3
Picture related to Halloween:

Awesome Halloween Costume <3<3

[The Alpha.]

Reserve

[Eremite]

Username: ~Country~
Show Name: Sleepy Hollow
Barn Name: Headless
Age: 6 years 6 months 6 days (666)
Personality:
Picture related to Halloween:

WIP 4am I just want to get my form in real quick so the name didn't get taken.

[all patched up]

σωηεя;;

cσℓσяé

I am Coloré, hopefully the future owner
of this boy.

sнσω ηαмε;;

тαιℓℓεя ℓα cιтяσυιℓℓε

Meaning "Carve The Pumpkin" in french.
I chose this name for him because firstly,
this is Halloween themed and secondly
because I am quite fond of French.

вαяη ηαмε;;

cιтяσυιℓℓε

Meaning "Pumpkin" in french.
This was obviously chosen for the same
reasons as the Show Name. His name
was debated between Citrouille and
Devil because of how devilish he is,
but Citrouille was chosen because he
was born on Halloween.

gεη∂εя;;

sтαℓℓιση

Citrouille is a stallion, which is a male horse
who is able to produce foals.

вяεε∂;;

qυαятεя нσяsε

He is a Quarter Horse. I am quite fond of
the breed as I own a chestnut Quarter
Horse mare called Phoenix offline.

αgε;;

sεvεη үεαяs

He is about seven years of age with a
birth date of 31/10/2006. He will turn
seven on Halloween day.

нειgнт;;

16 нαη∂s нιgн

He stands sixteen hands high, but
the average height is seventeen.

∂ιscιρℓιηε;;

נυмριηg αη∂ вαяяεℓ

Citrouille does a mixture of English and
Western. He does show jumping and
barrel racing.

ρεяsσηαℓιтү;;

∂єνιℓ

Most would describe Citrouille as wild,
free-spirited, difficult and mostly devilish.
He doesn't tend to let his rider get it easy
and always takes the harder way around
things. He will usually wander off when you
try to tack him, nip and buck, come to a
sudden stop or bolt forward if he doesn't get
his own way while riding and many other things.
He is definitely not a suitable horse for
beginners or people with short patience and has
changed minds of horse lovers, but all it takes
is a kind-hearted person with the time to give
him the attention that he needs.

нιѕтσяу;;

тнε cαяvιηg σғ тнε ρυмρкιη

Citrouille was born on Halloween in a shed.
His mother had a hard time keeping him warm,
as it was a very cold night. He barely survived
and his owner found him almost frozen to death
the next morning. With the name "Hallow Spirit,"
he lived in the large overgrown fields until he was
two years when his mother passed from colic. His
second home believed that punishment was the
answer to the horses faults, so he lived in fear of
his owners until he was three. He was let loose in
a large mountain range for three months with
friendly owners before he was stolen by a hunter
who was hunting illegally on their land. He was
then called Tommy, but since he had been abused
and green-handled, he hadn't turned out that great.
Around a year and nine months later he was bought
by a horse stud farm and they have been trying to
train him to behave ever since. He was broken in by
the hunter, but they never knew how he did it, as
they say he acts like he is possessed by the devil
most of the time. He is getting better each day and
they have plans to sell him to a horse riding school in
the future.

αят;;
Doing now~

sтσяү;;

α ғℓιcкεя σғ тнε ғℓαмε

Here I have decided to have a little story with a part
of each stage of his life, but it is pretty much short
descriptions.

Citrouille's legs were spread far apart, struggling to
stay upright. He slightly straightened bit by bit until
he finally stood straight. He made a small noise of
excitement and mother gently nudged him forward.
He lifted his foot to take a step, but didn't succeeded
in keeping his balance, falling to the ground. His
mother planted herself next to him, as he was unable
to get back up. Citrouille opened his eyes as the snap
of a whip sounded. He hated his new home and missed
his mother. The cruel man came and started yelling at
him, holding the whip high above his head. "Ya stupid
horse!" He yelled. "Ya useless thing!" He hit him in the
neck with the whip and Citrouille screamed in pain.
"That will teach ya." he said to him. After that Citrouille
blacked out. He awoke under a tree all alone he was quite
far up the mountain. He started trotting downhill kicking
up rocks as he went. He squealed with excitement as he
saw his food bucket filled. The only benefit of living on
the mountain range was that there was lots of land to
roam. He finished his food and started walking over to
get a drink when he heard a horse nearby. He pricked
his ears up with curiosity and cantered up the mountain
towards the noise. Citrouille was running in the small
paddock with the small dog. The dog was yapping like wild
and so loud that Citrouille almost didn't hear the hunter
calling him. He whinnied and ran over to him. "Hello,
Tommy. Would you like a treat?" He asked, holding out
an apple. Citrouille ate it and the hunter led him into the
barn. Citrouille was happy for once in his life and he
trusted the hunter. He walked in the barn and screamed,
throwing his front legs out. "Cirtrouille!" yelled the woman.
Citrouille pulled and struggled to get away from her. "Steady,
boy! We are only taking you outside!" she said, but Citrouille
still didn't cooperate. She eventually got him into the field.
He bolted forward, kicking and screaming.

ғяιεη∂s;;

His friend would be my horse "What Lurks In The Dark" aka "Lapeur"

мαтε;;
His mate would be my mare, Cookie

ωнαт ι ωιℓℓ υsε нιм ғσя/ωнү ι ωαηт нιм;;
The main reasons I want this boy,
is so I can use him for breeding's and to show him off with
all of my other Cottonwood stallions. I might use him for art
in the future though and possibly put him up for stud so
everyone can have the pleasure of using this stunning boy,
but that is still to be decided.

ριcтυяεs;;
Besides the two pictures shown, I have two others
Pumpkin
Horse

[preppy paws]

preppy paws


Starry Night


Janto


Stallion


6


15.3 hands


Dutch Warmblood, This breed was created in the 1900s by crossing the Gelderlander and the Groningen with the English Thoroughbred. It is possibly the most successful of the competition breeds.


Jumping, he is interested in the fact of the wind bursting through his coat.


He is a strong and athletic, with a calm temperament. He is good company but he wants as much freedom as possible. As a show horse, he has good conformation and paces, and he behaves perfectly.


peppermints
taco shells
jumping
galloping
meeting new people
being clean


rain
frizzy mane & tail
dirty hooves
being whipped
bits
westren saddles


His first best friend is Trail. They have known each other since the beginning.
His other friend is Misha. Misha is an angel to all. Janto sure likes how he acts around others.


He has a crush on my mare, Bella. She may or may not have a thing for him but thats how she is, playing the love game on those stallions who would do anything for a mare like herself. How could a stallion not be attracted to her kind heart and beauty?


At times I fear I am the mysterious of all animals.
Like the Unicorn I my self do not feel real
My inner beauty is the only thing you can steal.
I am my own mythological creature..
A roaming soul with a little will power to heal

Ages of my forgotten tear.
Like the Unicorns prophecy so unclear.
I compare your beauty to be the eye of my stare
I propose to you the one who possess a magical power so rare
Absorbing the energy of the sun in to my own spear
Untamed like the wild horse is the way I appear
I have no feelings of real existence, my life to you I compare.
Like you I want my thoughts and memories to disappear

Wasting away absorbing natures life
Drowning in my own and everyone's emotions
Haunted in the woods by a hunters knife.
Thousands of wolves hungry for my motions

Fallen in to thoughts of legends and myth
Pondering in a past life who am I with
I feel a touch upon my bones.
Am I he the Unicorn
A horse with one horn
Unlike the Unicorn who fell to exist
My suffering really does exist.
How I wish every thing about me was fake
Your magical beauty I can't resist.
To be like you hiding upon the mist

Like the Unicorn who is a horse when it has no horn.
I feel like a nobody when my life slips into the abyss
A depth of wishing to have never been born
With the vision of Heaven’s Realm with a Unicorn twist

Like the Unicorn who only exist in stories, Legends and Myth.
I come out of peoples mouths like a blown kiss.
Shedding many tears feeling all alone.
I want to be like the Unicorn who are bound to roam
Take me away from this wonders of thorns.
Give me a magic Medallion to free my spirit out of these pits
Infatuated with the gorgeous sight upon the Unicorns.
A passion among beauty is where my life fits.


Starry Night Janto gallops only at night. Why? We have no clue but to say that he gallops to the ancestors of his kind. The stars represent the past beating hearts of those who once galloped the land.


They Come To Town

[The Alpha.]

Leftingggg


Jack'O'Lantern of the Night


Jack


5 years


Jack is a very calm horse. He's not easily spooked, and will let almost anyone ride him, although he reacts the best to more experienced riders. He loves Halloween, since he doesn't get spooked he gets to take a rider around town and meet new people, sometimes some of the houses the rode up to even had a little treat for him! Jack isn't very stubborn, and will take orders willingly, though he's not afraid to be the leader. He subconsiously walks with confidence, though he is very easy going and doesn't boast about himself.


Jack was ironically born on Halloween. He was born into a large, well ran barn, and was treated well since the day he took his first step. His owners named him Jack'O'Lantern of the Night in a silly reminder to the fact that his birth was tied to Halloween. He was trained a bit earlier than most horses, but he was trained gently with a calm trainer. He's not a very competitive horse so he was trained instead as a lessons and trail horse, seeing as his barn was a competition barn and lessons barn.


Bleeding Out- Imagine Dragons
I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

When the day has come
That I’ve lost my way around
And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground
When the sky turns gray
And everything is screaming
I will reach inside
Just to find my heart is beating

Oh, you tell me to hold on
Oh, you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)

When the hour is nigh
And hopelessness is sinking in
And the wolves all cry
To fill the night with hollering
When your eyes are red
And emptiness is all you know
With the darkness fed
I will be your scarecrow

You tell me to hold on
Oh you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.


Horse riding in the night
Night of the dead
Creature arise from the earth
Oblivious people celebrating
Little kids running about
Snatched one, two, three
Something flickering in the shadows
And dark figure prowling in the night
A twisted face barely illuminated by Jack'O'Lantern light
Scream, shout, bam, silence.
A silence broken by a loud neigh and the galloping of hooves
The ghoul has disappeared
And the horse of the dead stand now in the shadows instead


After a long day of unlucky hunting, I found myself stuck in the middle of the marshlands for the night, without a flashlight or a lantern to guide my stumbling steps. So I settled beside a fallen log to rest until daylight. As I tossed and turned, I recalled the story my great-uncle told me about a ghost that haunted the marshlands.
There was once a man named Jack who was a nasty fellow. He beat his wife and kids and was an all-around bad chap. Jack got worse and worse as the years rolled by. But finally Jack’s body got so wore out that he died. He went up to heaven, but Saint Peter refused to let such a wretched fellow in. Then he went to Hell, but the Devil barred the door as soon as he saw Jack coming and wouldn’t let him in either. “Go away and don’t come back,” the Devil told Jack.
“How am I supposed to get back in the dark?” Jack grumbled. “Give me a lantern.”
So the Devil threw a chunk of molten fire out to Jack, who took it for his lantern and went back to earth, where he wanders forever through the swamps and marshlands of the earth, a bitter spirit whose only delight was in luring the unwary to their doom with his lamp.
At this juncture in my musings, I happened to look out over the marshes and noticed a blinking light in the fog.
“Is that you, Jack O’Lantern?” I called jovially.
“Jack, (jack, jack),” a voice whispered back. I was seriously spooked. I clutched my gun to my chest, the hairs on my arms standing on end. Had that been an echo of my voice, or was someone out here with me?
“Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound brave and menacing. I waved my gun around. “Show yourself at once.”
“Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed from a completely different section of the swamp. A light blinked on and then off. On and then off.
Shudders ran up my spine at the sound of that ghastly voice coming from nowhere. I huddled up against the log, wanting something firm at my back. Suddenly, the story of the Jack O’Lantern didn’t seem so funny.
My heart was pounding so hard it made my chest hurt. I strained my ears in the silence that fell over the swamp.
“Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed from somewhere to my left this time. The light blinked on, off, on…I counted ten heartbeats this time before it went off.
The voice sounded closer. I held very still, my instincts screaming at me to hold my breath and not move until the menace had passed. The voice came again, far off to the right. "Jack, (jack, jack)” it hissed. The light came on, off, on…off.
It’s moving away, I thought, relaxing just a bit. Feeling safer. There was a long, long, long silence. Nothing stirred, not the wind in the grass, not the frogs or turtles in the water, not the crickets or night insects.
"Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed softly, right into my ear. And I looked up into the glowing red eyes and twisted face of the Jack O’Lantern.
I screamed, and lashed out at it with my gun. I ran a few steps, tripped and fell over, knocking my head on a sharp stone. For a moment I saw stars, and I felt blood pouring from my scalp. But the Jack O’Lantern was right behind me. I had to get away. I rolled and fell into a deep pool. I plunged underneath the water, flailing desperately against ropelike grasses that tried to keep me down. My head finally burst out of the water, and I gasped desperately for air, treading water as best I could with my trembling limbs and aching head. I heard the creature laugh in the mist.
“Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed delightedly, and the light blinked on, off, on right over my head, blinding my dazed eyes as horror flowed through me and froze my limbs so I could no longer swim. For a long moment, the grotesque face and red eyes of the Jack O’Lantern loomed out of the mist before my petrified gaze.
My head started to swim with pain from my bleeding skull. The evil face above me, lit by its bright light, whirled around and around, growing dimmer as my eyes started to glaze. I was vaguely aware that I should keep swimming, keep trying to make my way to the edge of the pool, but the effort was too much for my suddenly heavy limbs. I barely noticed myself plunging down and down into the watery depths of the pool, too stunned by my injury to fight my way to the surface a second time.
Then there was only darkness, and silence, and a voice hissing in cold triumph: “Jack, (jack, jack).”

[Forever Insane]

(congrats he's yours!)

Leftingggg


Jack'O'Lantern of the Night


Jack


5 years


Jack is a very calm horse. He's not easily spooked, and will let almost anyone ride him, although he reacts the best to more experienced riders. He loves Halloween, since he doesn't get spooked he gets to take a rider around town and meet new people, sometimes some of the houses the rode up to even had a little treat for him! Jack isn't very stubborn, and will take orders willingly, though he's not afraid to be the leader. He subconsiously walks with confidence, though he is very easy going and doesn't boast about himself.


Jack was ironically born on Halloween. He was born into a large, well ran barn, and was treated well since the day he took his first step. His owners named him Jack'O'Lantern of the Night in a silly reminder to the fact that his birth was tied to Halloween. He was trained a bit earlier than most horses, but he was trained gently with a calm trainer. He's not a very competitive horse so he was trained instead as a lessons and trail horse, seeing as his barn was a competition barn and lessons barn.


Bleeding Out- Imagine Dragons
I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

When the day has come
That I’ve lost my way around
And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground
When the sky turns gray
And everything is screaming
I will reach inside
Just to find my heart is beating

Oh, you tell me to hold on
Oh, you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)

When the hour is nigh
And hopelessness is sinking in
And the wolves all cry
To fill the night with hollering
When your eyes are red
And emptiness is all you know
With the darkness fed
I will be your scarecrow

You tell me to hold on
Oh you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.


Horse riding in the night
Night of the dead
Creature arise from the earth
Oblivious people celebrating
Little kids running about
Snatched one, two, three
Something flickering in the shadows
And dark figure prowling in the night
A twisted face barely illuminated by Jack'O'Lantern light
Scream, shout, bam, silence.
A silence broken by a loud neigh and the galloping of hooves
The ghoul has disappeared
And the horse of the dead stand now in the shadows instead


After a long day of unlucky hunting, I found myself stuck in the middle of the marshlands for the night, without a flashlight or a lantern to guide my stumbling steps. So I settled beside a fallen log to rest until daylight. As I tossed and turned, I recalled the story my great-uncle told me about a ghost that haunted the marshlands.
There was once a man named Jack who was a nasty fellow. He beat his wife and kids and was an all-around bad chap. Jack got worse and worse as the years rolled by. But finally Jack’s body got so wore out that he died. He went up to heaven, but Saint Peter refused to let such a wretched fellow in. Then he went to Hell, but the Devil barred the door as soon as he saw Jack coming and wouldn’t let him in either. “Go away and don’t come back,” the Devil told Jack.
“How am I supposed to get back in the dark?” Jack grumbled. “Give me a lantern.”
So the Devil threw a chunk of molten fire out to Jack, who took it for his lantern and went back to earth, where he wanders forever through the swamps and marshlands of the earth, a bitter spirit whose only delight was in luring the unwary to their doom with his lamp.
At this juncture in my musings, I happened to look out over the marshes and noticed a blinking light in the fog.
“Is that you, Jack O’Lantern?” I called jovially.
“Jack, (jack, jack),” a voice whispered back. I was seriously spooked. I clutched my gun to my chest, the hairs on my arms standing on end. Had that been an echo of my voice, or was someone out here with me?
“Who’s there?” I shouted, trying to sound brave and menacing. I waved my gun around. “Show yourself at once.”
“Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed from a completely different section of the swamp. A light blinked on and then off. On and then off.
Shudders ran up my spine at the sound of that ghastly voice coming from nowhere. I huddled up against the log, wanting something firm at my back. Suddenly, the story of the Jack O’Lantern didn’t seem so funny.
My heart was pounding so hard it made my chest hurt. I strained my ears in the silence that fell over the swamp.
“Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed from somewhere to my left this time. The light blinked on, off, on…I counted ten heartbeats this time before it went off.
The voice sounded closer. I held very still, my instincts screaming at me to hold my breath and not move until the menace had passed. The voice came again, far off to the right. "Jack, (jack, jack)” it hissed. The light came on, off, on…off.
It’s moving away, I thought, relaxing just a bit. Feeling safer. There was a long, long, long silence. Nothing stirred, not the wind in the grass, not the frogs or turtles in the water, not the crickets or night insects.
"Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed softly, right into my ear. And I looked up into the glowing red eyes and twisted face of the Jack O’Lantern.
I screamed, and lashed out at it with my gun. I ran a few steps, tripped and fell over, knocking my head on a sharp stone. For a moment I saw stars, and I felt blood pouring from my scalp. But the Jack O’Lantern was right behind me. I had to get away. I rolled and fell into a deep pool. I plunged underneath the water, flailing desperately against ropelike grasses that tried to keep me down. My head finally burst out of the water, and I gasped desperately for air, treading water as best I could with my trembling limbs and aching head. I heard the creature laugh in the mist.
“Jack, (jack, jack)” the voice hissed delightedly, and the light blinked on, off, on right over my head, blinding my dazed eyes as horror flowed through me and froze my limbs so I could no longer swim. For a long moment, the grotesque face and red eyes of the Jack O’Lantern loomed out of the mist before my petrified gaze.
My head started to swim with pain from my bleeding skull. The evil face above me, lit by its bright light, whirled around and around, growing dimmer as my eyes started to glaze. I was vaguely aware that I should keep swimming, keep trying to make my way to the edge of the pool, but the effort was too much for my suddenly heavy limbs. I barely noticed myself plunging down and down into the watery depths of the pool, too stunned by my injury to fight my way to the surface a second time.
Then there was only darkness, and silence, and a voice hissing in cold triumph: “Jack, (jack, jack).”