Sanskiras are a species of hybrid, domestic animals that were created through selective, genetic breeding. They are a hybrid between wolves, foxes, horses and goats. Most Sanskiras are tame in captivity, but on rare occasions, herds of wild Sanskiras have been spotted running free. Sanskiras are bred for showing purposes, so most Sanskiras in captivity are well trained and groomed to perfection. They can be ridden, but it takes a lot of time and patience to train them. For more information, please refer to this image.
Just had to make something on these liens, but unfortunately this little guy is an orphan! He needs a loving home where he will feel welcome. He is based on this months zodiac (even though it is a little late), Pisces, Feb 20 - Mar 20.
GallopingHowl wrote:♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔♔
Username: GallopingHowl
Sanskira Name: ♔Roi♔ (King in French)
Age: Newborn
Gender: Male
How I found him: It had been a long time since I had last went to my favorite place in the woods. As a kid, I always ran home from the bus stop to throw my stuff in the house before running off into the woods. Along the line of cherry trees, through the stream that runs no more, and up the large mossy steps. An abandoned castle stood high into the air, the gates were like tall giants letting me in. Of course, people knew about the castle, but it wasn't special. Our town is known for our large castle museum in the preserved huge castle, but this one was falling apart, deep in the forest, and "normal". No one ever came. No one ever visited. Except me. It was like I was a queen of a castle with no people, a ruler of stone walls and mossy steps. Memories flooded into my mind as I walked through those giant gates. Too many. I was overwhelmed with my imagination, especially the one. A wolf-like creature my parents had said was my "imaginary'' friend. Suddenly, a large howl shook the castle, you looked around in fear and excitement. I noticed now that this wasn't a friendly imaginary friend. The sanskira lay till on the broken, stone throne. Grey hairs ran down it's majestic coat and rotten teeth filled the large canine muzzle. It had clearly been older, but not old enough to die of old age. She quickly recognized the illness, rabbis, from the foam starting to drip from the rotten teeth. The sanskira was bitten recently, but it was too late. I buried my tear-filled face into her distinctive pelt, "Goodbye, girl." Before her last breath, the sanskira howled loudly and lifted her tail, revealing a pup with an almost identical pelt, but a male. She licked by hand and grabbed the pup by the scruff, then placed it into my hands. Silence. I grabbed the struggling pup in my jacket and laid a crown over the mother's body ,"You shall always be the ruler of this wonderful kingdom of nature and stone. Your son will be the king of the next generation."
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All grown up!
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