[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

General Info
Chrysaora Basilisk are the prevalent equine creatures that inhabit the world Lucent. They roam by the hundreds, using their unique hooves to score the uneven rock and track down their most vital source of nourishment; evil. The relationship between Chrysaora and humans is a complex one. Chrysaora vocalize like horses, but are also thought to have a syrinx much like birds do and have been recorded displaying a variety of sharp, avian sounds. Their eyes layer over with a dark, murky black until their normal eye color pierces through in a great ball of electric light, radiating toward their victim's open eyes and paralyzing them. The Glare is able to stop both human and creature, and after a few days, unique to other forms of basilisk, the paralyzed being transforms into a sea nettle.

Owner: grapejuice
Name: Hiccup
Gender: stallion
Link to form: |link|
Coat Color: isabella palomino manchado

The story goes like this;
A human trapper had stolen many chrysaora foals and was selling them in a underground black market. A organization of people stopped him and rescued the foals, and are now trying to adopt them out. Each of the foals needs an experienced owner to love and raise them. We're counting on you, the members of the chry community, to give these babes a second chance at life.

Tasks:
- first encounter
- gaining trust
- first feeding
- free spot [make it original!]

[Astraela]

Cute foal!

[gold]

Mark <3

[grapejuice]

This boy was originally mine, and with special permission from Crumpled, I will be posting his work in order to keep him.

Name: Hiccup
Gender: Colt/Stallion

---

I'd received the call at approximately one in the morning. I was tired, groggy, and in my hurry to get back to sleep, answered he phone with a rather snappy, "What?" I didn't mean to come off as rude, but I'd had a long day, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep away my stress. To my dismay, the voice on the other end sounded like they were crying, upset. Had I done that? Did I really come off as that mean? Before I could even apologize, they responded, "Grape, we have a problem." It was Fall, from the Chrysaora barn. My heart was filled with dread, as I silently waited for them to go on. "Poachers, they stole a bunch of foals... the sires and dams are nowhere to be found... w-we assumed the worst." I was biting my lip now, fighting back tears, unable to imagine why anyone would do such a thing. Fall sniffled on the other end of the line, before clearing their throat. "We were able to reclaim the babies, but, without any parents, they're in need of care. We're far too packed down here to keep them all..." I knew where this was going. I only had two Chrys at the time, both young mares, one by the name of Voodoo, and the other Pomona. With plenty of space left on the Vineyard property, and experience in caring for Chrys... "I'll be there as soon as possible." And I hung up.

Of course, I was disappointed I couldn't go back to sleep, but this was far more important than rest. As I drove down to the Chrysaora barn, I could sense the urgency in the air. I wasn't the only one showing up, it appeared they'd been contacting every current owner to come and help out. As I pulled up and parked, I could see just how hectic everything was. The Chry staff was everywhere, and I could hear the soft squeals of distraught foals all over. It wasn't long before I spotted a very drained Crumple, standing in front of the main barn. I jumped out of my vehicle and walked over cautiously, seeing as she was on the phone. When she glanced up, she was quick to end the call, before sighing heavily. "I'm glad you came, Grape. Fall already said he caught you up on everything, so c'mon, the babies are this way." Without a word, I nodded, and followed her to the foal barn. Inside, it was chaos. All of the employees were bustling around, trying to tend to the crying foals, all desperate for their mother's protection.

I could feel a sob working it's way up, and swallowed hard, as I stepped inside. There were milk bottles, blankets, heating lamps, and all sorts of supplies everywhere. "We've been calling everyone we know, trying to find them homes but--" Her phone begins buzzing, and without another word, she turns away to take the call. With that, I begin browsing the stalls, perusing every individual foal that lies within. Some are small, closer to newborns, and seem weak. Others are slightly older, not yet weaned from their mothers, and desperate for freedom. All of them are so sad, though. The light is gone from their eyes, and their vibrant manes and tails don't appear so vibrant anymore...

A loud squeal causes me to jump in fright, and several staff members rush past me towards the sound. I follow them to investigate, and can hardly believe my eyes when I see the tiny manchado colt, not even a month old, with a blanket caught on his horn. The appendage had ripped through the material, and was now covering his face, blinding him, and throwing him into this state of panic. One employee attempted to grab at the blanket, but to no avail, as he kicked and bucked and tossed his head. At this rate, it looked like he was going to injure himself with all of this commotion, and I fear the worst, when he goes down in a heap on the floor of his stall. Someone removes the blanket quickly, and he is examined closely before it is determined that he is alright. Dizzy, but alright.

My heart can rest easy now, as everyone disperses, going off to tend to the other needy foals. I stay, however, with the palomino foal, who is attempting to stand again, though his vision is probably spinning. "Aren't you just a little ball of mayhem?" I murmur, smiling as he stands, wobbly, on all fours. "But you're certainly a trooper." Now he's eyeing me, and I back off, not wanting to earn "The Glare" from the obviously distressed foal. "Grape, he's not going to paralyze you." The voice behind me says with a laugh, and I turn, coming face-to-face with Crumple yet again. "He's a bit of a klutz, and he usually knows when someone's making fun of him... he's just warning you to back off." My face reddens, and I glance over to the colt, who now seems to be pouting in the back corner of his stall. The poor baby.

"I think he's fit in perfectly with you." She says with a smile, a little too smug for my taste. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, trying to sound tough, but failing the instant I start giggling. "Alright alright, he's perfect, I'm not going to lie, but you're going to have to lead him onto the trailer, I don't want to risk being paralyzed." And within the hour, we have the little foal loaded up into the trailer.

[grapejuice]

"C'mon boy, you've gotta get out of the trailer." I coo softly, kneeling down with my hand outstretched. The little colt stomps his hoof and turns his butt towards me, swishing his fluffy tail with annoyance. I sigh, before glancing down at my watch. 3:47 AM, it reads. I've been trying to get him out of this trailer for nearly two hours, and he refuses to budge.

Loading him up had been pretty easy. Crumple had managed to entice him with a warm bottle, having waved in front of his face, much like a dog with their treats. He took the bait without hesitation, scrambling up the trailer ramp to get to the sweet liquid, and nearly falling flat on his face in the process. But once he was suckling on that bottle and the trailer was secured, he was fine.

So why didn't he want to come back out? "C'mere baby boy, do you want more milk?" His ears twitch, but he doesn't budge. Instead, a tiny squeal-like sound comes from him, and his frail body convulses. Then again, and again. At first, I don't know what to think, until I realize he has the hiccups.

And I can't help but laugh, as the tiny squeak continues to emit from the colt, over and over again. He hears me laugh, and turns towards me, ears flat and eyes squinted in my direction. For a moment, it's intimidating, until he hiccups yet again, and I laugh out loud. "You're supposed to drink your milk slowly, not chug it all down in one go." I tease, before standing up and slowly easing my way towards him. "Easy boy, they'll go away soon enough, I promise." I reach my hand out towards him yet again, and this time, he comes forward, pushing his muzzle to my palm. I feel him sniffing me, checking to see if I'm trustworthy or not, before he hiccups yet again.

"Atta boy, Hiccup." I murmur, as I slowly reach for the lead rope he'd been tied up with. I undo the knot slowly, knowing if I startle him, it won't end well for either of us. "Let's get you into your stall and you can sleep those nasty hiccups away, alright?" And I tug the rope gently, before stepping forward, down the ramp of the trailer. He tugs back at first, obviously displeased by the contraption on his face, but eventually, steps forward as well. By 4:21 AM, I have him settled into a cozy little stall in my Chry barn, and I'm too tired to even make it back to the house.

So I spend the rest of the night snoozing on a pile of saddle pads. Oops.

[grapejuice]

I wake up to the sound of an angry foal the next morning, squealing, kicking the door, and demanding his breakfast. My neck and back are sore from falling asleep on a pile of saddle pads, and I'm a little disoriented from my lack of sleep. For a moment, I can hardly recall why I have a screaming foal in my Chrysaora barn, but then it all comes flooding back to me when I remember the events of the previous night, when I'd adopted him.

I'm slow to stand, my back cracking as I rise and stretch out, hoping to relieve some of the aches. I rub my sleepy eyes, and groggily wander over to Hiccup's stall. No longer is he squeaky and cute, but frustrated and hungry. He's throwing a temper tantrum, all because... Oh crap, it's nearly noon. I thought it was still early, but I'd managed to waste half the day, no wonder he sounded so upset. I scramble to prepare a fresh milk bottle for him, taking care not to overheat it or spill any in my haste.

Upon presentation of the meal, the colt sniffs the bottle, and turns away. I'm really confused at this point, and attempt to put the bottle directly in front of him. Again, he turns away from the bottle. "It's just milk. C'mon, you liked it yesterday when Crumple fed you." I groan, trying to push the nipple of the bottle into his mouth, but end up rejected, once more.

In frustration, I drop the bottle, and walk out of the stall, shaking my head as I pull out my phone and browse the internet. "How to feed a stubborn foal..." I say as I type in the words, and suddenly dozens of links pop up at my fingertips. I browse the results, tapping on the more promising ones, and skimming the articles until I have the information I need. Once I've got a good understanding of what I need to do, I head back into the stall, where Hiccup is attempting to break open the plastic bottle I'd left behind.

"Here, let me just..." I take the bottle, and head into the storage room, browsing all over until... "Here we go, a towel. Now just wrap it around..." And within a few minutes, the bottle is ready, the nipple of it now surrounded by the soft material. When I return, I present the bottle yet again, holding it at an angle under my arm. And he drinks. Finally! I'm all too pleased now that he's suckling down the bottle, although some of it is dribbling down his little whiskers. Turns out wrapping a towel around the nipple makes the bottle more like a mare's udder, which makes it more comfortable for the foal.

I stay with him until he's guzzled down every last drop of his bottle, before heading to the house to work out his feeding schedule. Life's going to be pretty hectic for the next few months.

[grapejuice]

Hiccup has lived at the Vineyard for about six months now, and has finally been weaned from the bottle. He's grown considerably, into a fine, muscular little colt. He's still getting used to solid foods, but, it seems as though oats are his favorite. Hiccup still gets hiccups from eating too quickly, he never really got a hang of "eating slowly," but otherwise, he's doing well.

Today is the first time I've released him into the pasture with my beloved mares, Voodoo and Pomona. The two ladies had formed a tight bond in their time together, and were reluctant to include the young stud in their group. When he'd first approached them, Voodoo had pinned her ears back and stomped her hoof in warning, telling him to back off. But did he listen? Of course not.

Instead, Hiccup went around to Pomona, the shyer of the two, and began bugging her. He rubbed against her, pulled her mane, chewed on her tail, wanting to befriend the elder only to be chased off by Voodoo yet again. Now I've never seen Hiccup back down from a challenge, but I almost want to call him back, and separate him from the two mares. Knowing Voodoo's temper, she's probably not going to let him get away with much else, and I'd hate for him to get hurt.

But Hiccup approaches, yet again, and nickers at the two mares. The irritated chimera looks down on him condescendingly, a low rumble building in her throat as he boldly steps towards her. Pomona stands off to the side, looking worried as ever, knowing that one wrong move could be disastrous for the palomino manchado. Hiccup continues to move forward, until he's nose-to-nose the Voodoo, exchanging breaths and occasionally squealing when she tries to nudge him away. He doesn't want to go, he just wants to be her friend... I can't help but think that, as I watch the mare turn away, leaving him on his own.

For a split second, I feel as though he's been rejected by the two mares, the two who would become his "herd" and "family." I feel my heart ache for him, until Pomona turns back and rounds him up, pushing him towards Voodoo who's proudly leading her own little herd. I hear him squeal with delight, as he playfully headbutts the sorrel mare, and gallops off as she chases after him. It's not long before the chimeric mare joins in as well, and soon, the three of them are playing their own game of tag in the pasture.

My little man has finally found his place in the world.

[ｃｒｕｍｐｌｅｄ ｗｉｎｇｓ]

congrats!

[grapejuice]

Hiccup looks so handsome ;u;
Thank-you so much ❤