Post by *Crimson Rain }{ on Feb 19, 2009 17:05:22 GMT -8
Name: Black Lightning
Gender: Female
Age: 5
Breed: Arabian
Height: 15.2
Herd: Ramadi
Appearance:
While she is very pretty, she's not any prettier than any of the other arabians around. She has a lithe profile, her body slimmed and fit. Muscles ripple beneath her pelt, jerking with every movement - but she is not, under anybody's critical eye, bulky. Her legs are long, her footing sure and strong. Her face dips in down the snout, rounding in like the sides of a bowl of sorts. Her pelt, though it can appear black some times, is actually a very dark bay. Because of its dark coloring even when it's dirty it appears clean - shining beneath the sun and glowing beneath the moon. On her forehead the short, fine firs change to white. The color forms together to become a star-like shape, though it is disfigured. It's more like a stripe, but it doesn't run even half way. Her eyes pierce through you, their pigment black with a slight glimmer in them. They can become icy cold though, more so than any crystal blue. Her thick mane falls on both sides of her neck in small clumps. The bases are black, but fade into a light brown at the end in some - if not most, or all - places. Her tail, however, is solid black. It's long and thick, brushing up against her back legs with every twitch of the muscle. Her strong legs are pretty much free of markings, aside from a slim cornet on her back right leg.
Photo:
Personality:
Black Lightning isn't nice, infact, the more appropriate term would be "pregnant dog". She doesn't care what your thinking, and doesn't want to know. While she is more solitary than anything, she joined a herd for protection - though she may become a rogue. She threatens to at times, but even if it does happen it won't be any time soon. She holds herself above, not everyone, but most others. She can come across as quite arrogant at times, but she knows when she is not above someone else - an opportunity of which doesn't come around all that often. When it comes to giving actual respect, however, her feelings are mixed on this. She will give it when it is necassary, but that doesn't mean she won't mumble and grumble about you later. She doesn't mind saying it to your face, but it does give her something to do later on in the day when she's bored. When it comes to big crowds, she prefers to avoid them. When the herd comes together she very rarely joins them. If she's around at all, she's normally seen on the outskirts. She definately has a sassy streak in her though, she has seemingly perfected the art. Other horses normally leave her be, never messing with her - she always gets them back.
History:
Lightning was born in a stable. Lets start with that. It was a nice place, with roomy stalls and fresh food and water. Her mother and father were breeding pairs and Lightning was only one of their many, many foals. Only three days after turning a yearling Lightning was sent to pasture with other filly's and colt's of her own age where she quickly caught onto the heirarchy way of life. She was, of course, near the top though there wasn't such a thing as "Lead Mare" or "Lead Stallion" in their "play". It was a big open place, with a pond to drink from and a forest surrounding the white picket fence. Though she was dominant over their small herd, she didn't exactly have friends there. Everyone respected her, trusted her to do what was right, but Lightning never had any friends - never really wanted any either. The stubborness of her mother and the aggression she recieved from her father saw to it. She was strong and fit as a filly and when she turned 11/2 was sold to another man. The conditions weren't as grand as her old home, but definately satisfactory. She especially warmed up to a particular stable hand. It was a young girl, about 14 with a soft hand - though she did have a fiery personality. It wasn't long after that that they went on to try and break the young filly - but they never finished their training. They were just introducing the saddle when a large group of horses from the stable were let loose into the surrounding desert. In the commotion Lightning became skittish and followed the herd - she remembers it as if it were yesterday. In the large crowd she had caught a glimpse of her friend: she had been crying. But before Lightning could get back into the gate it was shut behind them and she could not re-enter. With one last, good-bye whicker Lightning galloped off to join her herd - not seeing any other way out. But the heirarchy wasn't stable, and soon hell broke loose among them. Even though Lightning was able to hold her position that kind of life was not for her. She left one sunset, saying goodbye to the horses that had, over the last few days, become her friends - in some wierd and twisted way. She wandered on her own for quite awhile, before meeting a stallion by the name of Blood Rising. It seemed that he was the guy of her dreams and when she came into heat (when she turned 3) they mated. It wasn't until a few days before her birthing that he left her. It was a miracle and she gave birth to triplets. However, she was not able to care for these children and gave them up to a couple that could not have children on their own. She's never regretted her decision, though she does think about them a lot - though they do bring with them the bitter-sweet memories of her once beloved. When she turned 41/2 she joined a herd - where she lives now.
Sample Post:
You can take the breath right out of me,
You can leave a whole where my heart used to be.
You got to fight just to make it through;
Because I'll be the death of you.
It's harsh. It's life. Nothing in this wretched life is easy, nothing you could ever do will save you from the pain and struggle you have to go through. It doesn't matter if you're wild, domestic, a peasant or king - it's always the same. Why should I be any different? I've got news for you: I'm not. Surprising? No, expected. I might have been dragged down further than most, but I'm alive aren't I? Well enough to walk on four legs and hear, see, smell and feel. That's one of the only good things that've come out of this: My trudging on through the thick mud of the living. I chose this path - everyone has a choice. What did I choose? I chose to leave the beaten path and make my own way; and ended up in quicksand. I'm slowly slipping, sinking away. God. Would someone throw me a lifeline?
That's why I'm here I guess. To find something to hold onto until it's my time to go. It could be in the next day or so, or the next few years. I don't care which, who am I to say that I shouldn't live for another few hours? Nobody. I'm a nobody. You're a nobody. We're all ants compared to what's really out there. Seriously. Have you ever looked up at the sky? See the stars twinkling in its navy depths? How do you stand up to that? How do you raise your head and puff out your chest when you have those sparkling eyes staring down at you? Of course, that's only at night - my favorite time of day. The actual daytime? You don't see them, but they're still there. They're always there: They're immortal. She's the only thing I will ever dip my head to, respect showing in my ebon orbs: Mother Nature. She's invincible. She gave me life - and she can take it away in the blink of an eye.
It's not daytime now, though; it's night. With the moon high in the skies, dying the world in a metallic silver color. The long grasses, brushing against my legs with every slight breeze or twitch of my muscles. It tickles my underbelly, but I don't laugh; I move into another spot where the grass is shorter. I look around me, my black eyes rolling obediantly and freely. There is no one here. The place is silent apart from the crickets song and the owls whisper. His small hooting and her wings rubbing together create wonderful music - pleasant to my ears. They're moving back and forth utop my head, swiveling to catch the full potential of natures voice. There are no horse sounds besides my shallow breathing. It might have been folish to come here at night, but this is when I feel most at home.
Moving out from beneath the giant weaping willow I had stood beneath, I stand there - only partly exsposed. Standing. Searching. Waiting. When there was no sounds that were not there before, I became even more at home; every tense muscles relexing almost completely.The silver moonlight bathes my ebony frame, sending my shadow stretching to my left - tall and a lot slimmer than I actually was. Lower my head to the ground, I began to graze. Ripping and tearing at the slim, slippery foliage; raising my head every now and then to look around me. It was so quiet in a place that was so full of other horses - fantastic.[/color][/center][/blockquote]
