Owner Starwindrider
Show Name: King of the Rainstorms
Barn Name: Storm/Rain Dancer
Age: 10
Gender: tallion
Halter Color: Eye Color
Halter Jewel Color: Grey
What do the ribbon colors say about their personality? (Does not count toward judging, must be filled out): Strong and adventurous, careless and a risk-taker. He loves rain.
PStory: Storm watched the rain from his stall door, staring at each individual raindrop that slid down the roof of the barn opposite the stables. It wasn’t a drizzle, it wasn’t a thunderstorm either. It was a rainstorm, Storm’s favourite kind of weather.
Rooster, from the stall next to him, nickered, “You wanna go into the rain again, don’t ye, youngster?” Storm nodded at Rooster. “Yes, I really want to go, you don’t know how much I love the rain!”
“Nah, not ‘elpin’ ye today, not while the rain’s this heavy,” Rooster turned around.
“Oh please, Rooster,” Storm begged.
“Let the youngster go,” Rooster’s mate,
Cobweb, neighed. “There isn’t any harm anyway.”
“The only ‘arm is that he’s gonna get sick!” Rooster snapped back, but she didn’t argue with her mate. She sighed, but leaned out and gripped the stall door lock in her jaws. She twisted and turned it, and soon the click of an unlocking door was heard. Storm leaped out. He heard Rooster laughing after him and rolled his eyes. He would never understand how the old mare thought.
Storm leaped up and down, splashing into the puddles. He neighed in joy as the water splattered him entirely. He raised his head and opened his mouth, drinking the rain water for a few seconds, before splashing around again.
“You’re gonna get a cold jumpin’ around there lika maniac, I tell ye,” Rooster yelled from the stables, but Storm paid her no mind at all.
Storm found a nice sloggy patch of mud and dropped onto his knees, rolling in the mud. He stood up, sighing happily as the cool mud rolled off his shoulders. He turned back at the stables and stuck his tongue out at Rooster.
“I’m not going to get sick, you just wait, you old...grandma!” He yelled cheekily.
He dashed away, galloping on the slick ground, as Rooster’s loud scolding echoed behind him. (“Respect your elders, youngster! You don’t go around ‘ere callin’ me an old grandma!”)
Oh, how he loved rainstorms!
