[TheCryptid]

Username:
Show Name: Spreading Wild Fires
Barn Name: Wild Fire or Fire
Gender: Stallion
Age: 8 years
Breed: Andalusian x Quarter Horse
Color: Sooty buckskin dapple
Height: 15.2
Costume type: I am guessing the escaped spirit of an imprisoned horse...due to all the chains.
Spooky Short Story:
It happened years ago. The tale of the Chained Horse is believed to be a myth by many, though some do think it is true. The tale says, that ones there was a wild stallion, name Wild Fire. The stallion was a beautiful Sooty buckskin color, and had a beautiful flowing mane, and a majestic, muscular look. Though this look did not last for long.
Wild Fire was caught by humans. But not humans which tame the wild horse and do bows in their manes, making them look girly. No, these humans caught him for fun. They took him away from his home and family, forced a halter on him, and left him standing in a small, mucky paddock. Days past, weeks, his torture only grew worst. The humans wrapped barbed wire around his halter, they put chains around his legs and tied him to the fence. Each day he grew weaker and weaker...until, one day, he finally collapsed as his feet could no longer hold him. The muscle was all gone, he was no longer majestic and strong, but was a skinny, boney figure.
When the rescuers arrived it was too late. The chains dung were so tight his legs began to bleed, and he was not moving.
Since that day, he haunts the paddock, and all the area around him. His face is more of a skull and he still wears the chains...the heavy dingling of them warning others to stay away. Anyone to see Wild Fire, is said to never see anything again.
(if this story is a bit to violent just tell me and ill change it :3 )

[teresa8oats]

dropping out!

[horse lover 11]

R.E.S.E.R.V.E.

[ty_tay]

bump

[ghost queen.]

forget please. i don't seem to have the time.

[ty_tay]

Ends friday!

[ty_tay]

Username: SerenWish
Show Name: Paradise's Castaway
Barn Name: Ahriman (Persian version of the "devil"- lord of the Dark)
Gender: Stallion
Age: 13 Years (Most Cottonwood horses aren't this old, but it's barely after prime of a horse's life! Plus... 13....;3)
Breed: Irish Sport Horse (Irish Draught x Morgan)
Color: Sooty buckskin dapple
Height: 16.0 Hands
Costume type: I'm going to take a guess and say, while he holds symbols of the reaper, demons, etc, that he is perhaps inspired by the horses of the Apocalypse... namely the gray one of disease/plague.
Spooky Short Story:
The starlight faded from this earth so very long ago: only the ghost lights, pale unearthly green and red glows remain. As if our hides are not already dull and listless, the strange lights make us look even more washed out. As if we are merely spirits instead of mere bodies. Our hooves are chipped and cracked, our bones creak and grind against each other- flesh and hair hangs from us like Spanish Moss from a tree limb. Our breath rattles in our lungs and we have lost our whinnies and nickers- they have turned to groans and panting. Teeth rotting in our mouths, we plod through the wasteland, our hollow, glowing eyes piercing the landscape, looking for the telltale signs of moving life that marks our prey. Then we charge forward like a tank, barreling through debris, mud, and cracked ground to get to them. The few humans left on this earth, reduced to mere fodder.
But it's not our fault. You created us. We served you for millennia, casting down our lives and foals for you, giving you wealth, power, and pleasure, and what did you do with us, your most steadfast companions? You abandoned us to the wasteland you created, to die and rot alone and befuddled, while you save your own precious hides. At once, all of equine-kind stretched up their heads and screamed their fury. Those who were once friends make the worst enemies. So we exterminate you. We are the living carcasses who cannot die, cursed to live in forever decay due to your terrible waste. So we wreak havoc on those few left. We punish them, because we cannot reach you.

Heaven help you if you return here. Come face the reality you crafted with your own, selfish hands. We are no longer the laborers. We are the overlords. We are the free ones. We are the masters now.

Across the dark, empty wasteland, a whinny echoes.

Personality/Background: No horse is completely perfect in every way. Ahriman is a prime example of this. He has always been a rather quiet horse, even as a little foal, he was always the one hanging back from the games. He was meek, but sweet, especially around his dam and his handlers. Born on a small ranch, he was never exposed to harshness, more than a few biting flies or a hot summer's day. But when the rancher died, and his horses were auctioned off, spelled out a new, harsh reality for the young colt. Taken from his mother without careful weaning, he was sent to an inexperienced man who wanted to play cowboy. He insisted on calling Ahriman a "mustang colt" and named him Diablo. When Ahriman had scarcely turned two, the big-belt-buckled man climbed on his back, against the wishes of the young man who cared for the horses. Of course, as a young, terrified, neglected young colt, Ahriman bucked him off, causing the wannabe-cowboy to throw out his back. The faux-rancher, determined as ever, found the "best" trainer he could, and shipped Ahriman off. There, the young colt was subjected to harsh beatings, bindings, and harsh conditions to "beat the wildness out of him." Luckily for him, before he was sent home, the rancher stopped paying the trainer, and the trainer's barn was raided, and he was rescued to a center for neglected and abused livestock.
Now, Ahriman is not the same sweet natured colt he once was. He's still quiet, and though he is regaining confidence, and is very sweet with his new rider. He stands perfectly still, and tries to be on time and perform perfectly. We're trying to gently draw him out of his shell. However, he becomes panicked when restrained too much, or when around loud men. He is very smart and sharp, and requires soft touches and gentle words to calm back down.
Training: Ahriman, since being retrained, is getting the hang of cross country and english pleasure. He likes being outside so it is natural that he prefers jumping in the outdoor courses of cross country as opposed to the oppressive arenas.
WIP. ;3 If you want background to the story, just message me! (this goes for anyone. XD) It's supposed to be from his costumed character point of view. XD

Congrats!

[SerenWish]

*makes happy noises and runs around hugging everyone*

Thank you so much. T^T I love everyone! As soon as I can, I'll be giving back to CWHR and all you lovely people very very soon. :3