Post by Kcx on Jun 13, 2009 19:28:39 GMT -5
Points Of Authority
Name: Charcoal.
Age: Three.
Breed: Mustang.
Gender: Stallion.
Alliance: Neutral.
Breaking The Habits
Markings: His Coat Is Speckled With White Dots.
Appearance: Charcoal is a very muscular stallion. He stands very tall, of course. Though his coat is pure black, it contains white spots speckled all over it, as if holes were piercing his body. Most say his cranium is shaped like that of an Arabian's, almost dish-shaped. He's very lean as well, having not fat what so ever on his body. His eyes are a deep blue, giving the effect that pools of clear blue water had been trapped in his eye-lobes when he was born. Or in his mother's womb, as most equines say to it. Because of his bulkiness, most believe him to be a great stud, though he doesn't believe that too well. In fact, he thinks the total opposite of that. But hey, what can you say, right?
Height: About 17 HH.
Personality: Charcoal is the usual "force-breed a mare then leave her with the foal" type of stallion. He doesn't like company too often, and usually is seen often as a loner rather than a herd kind of horse. He will, how ever, stay with a herd during the winter months and if there have been any attacks in the area he has been traveling in, for protection. Most mares easily fall for his charm, he himself always telling them that he'll be with them forever before breeding them and running off when he's sure they're pregnant. He's not sure how many foals he's had, but he knows there's plenty. If he ever runs into another stallion, he normally never tries to pick a fight with them. They'll call him a coward. But trust me, he has good reasons why he doesn't, and he normally keeps those to himself until bothered frequently. And trust me, he has a short span of anger.
Leave Out All The Rest
History: One day, during a sunny day of exactly noon, a white mare gave birth to a pure black colt. Because of his pure darkness and the white dots that looked like holes, the mare dubbed him Charcoal, the item used to light fires. Most were surprised, because many lines before him were of the light color, never of the dark. Most thought him to be a curse, but his mother loved him still the same. His father, of course, was one of the force breeders, already come and gone before Charcoal was even born. The lead stallion of his herd, though, treated him kindly. Charcoal thought nothing of it, of course. He only wanted attention from the adult horses and time to play with his other foal friends in the small herd.
Of course, all happy days have their bad.
One day, terrible storm cloud swept over his land, when he was only one year old. It grew very dark and saddening, gloomy and depressing. Most of the horses were confused, for their land had been a land of no darkness, rarely a cloud in the sky when the weather was great. Soon, their great luck ran out. A large pack of hungry wolves appeared from the woodlands, attacking the small herd with the sight of revenge. Many horses were wound or killed. One of them including the lead stallion him self.
The young colt wept when he saw the sight of his adopted father lying there on the ground, motionless as a rock. Many knew it was the end, for so very few of them had survived an re-grouped. Charcoal's mother was trying so desperately to sooth him, yet he cried even harder. Soon everyone knew it was time to choose a new lead stallion, just a year after the attack. The herd had grew, many loners joining and many foals being born each month. And when no one stepped forward, Charcoal quickly obliged to the offer. It seemed no one was surprised that the young stallion went up, for he was raised on brutality, and almost everyone who had seen him grow up or had grew up with him trusted him to lead their herd, though only a few had their doubts.
Soon, one more year had passed, transforming the colt into a stallion. He felt proud of him self. Truly proud. He soon sired many foals, of which seemed to be of the lighter variety. Most people remembered his birth, and a curiosity rose quickly about the stallion. Most thought it to be hilarious. Others, some sort of curse that the young stallion was the lead. One night, after all horses went to sleep, the elders and Charcoal's mother had a meeting of what to do with the stallion. Many refereed to the war of the black gem, many moons before their time. And at once, they agreed on one thing: they were to ban Charcoal from the herd.
Over-hearing their conversation, Charcoal fled that night, running until his legs went numb. But he never quite. He never stopped from the place he once called home. No, he would never go back. He knew he couldn't. He was nothing. An outcast. A brutal stallion. A stallion no one wanted. He soon became a force breeder, knowing the outcome would be the same as all the other foals. He never wanted to see any of them, always fleeing after he got his pleasure of mounting the mare he had charmed.[/size][/color]
Name: Charcoal.
Age: Three.
Breed: Mustang.
Gender: Stallion.
Alliance: Neutral.
Breaking The Habits
Markings: His Coat Is Speckled With White Dots.
Appearance: Charcoal is a very muscular stallion. He stands very tall, of course. Though his coat is pure black, it contains white spots speckled all over it, as if holes were piercing his body. Most say his cranium is shaped like that of an Arabian's, almost dish-shaped. He's very lean as well, having not fat what so ever on his body. His eyes are a deep blue, giving the effect that pools of clear blue water had been trapped in his eye-lobes when he was born. Or in his mother's womb, as most equines say to it. Because of his bulkiness, most believe him to be a great stud, though he doesn't believe that too well. In fact, he thinks the total opposite of that. But hey, what can you say, right?
Height: About 17 HH.
Personality: Charcoal is the usual "force-breed a mare then leave her with the foal" type of stallion. He doesn't like company too often, and usually is seen often as a loner rather than a herd kind of horse. He will, how ever, stay with a herd during the winter months and if there have been any attacks in the area he has been traveling in, for protection. Most mares easily fall for his charm, he himself always telling them that he'll be with them forever before breeding them and running off when he's sure they're pregnant. He's not sure how many foals he's had, but he knows there's plenty. If he ever runs into another stallion, he normally never tries to pick a fight with them. They'll call him a coward. But trust me, he has good reasons why he doesn't, and he normally keeps those to himself until bothered frequently. And trust me, he has a short span of anger.
Leave Out All The Rest
History: One day, during a sunny day of exactly noon, a white mare gave birth to a pure black colt. Because of his pure darkness and the white dots that looked like holes, the mare dubbed him Charcoal, the item used to light fires. Most were surprised, because many lines before him were of the light color, never of the dark. Most thought him to be a curse, but his mother loved him still the same. His father, of course, was one of the force breeders, already come and gone before Charcoal was even born. The lead stallion of his herd, though, treated him kindly. Charcoal thought nothing of it, of course. He only wanted attention from the adult horses and time to play with his other foal friends in the small herd.
Of course, all happy days have their bad.
One day, terrible storm cloud swept over his land, when he was only one year old. It grew very dark and saddening, gloomy and depressing. Most of the horses were confused, for their land had been a land of no darkness, rarely a cloud in the sky when the weather was great. Soon, their great luck ran out. A large pack of hungry wolves appeared from the woodlands, attacking the small herd with the sight of revenge. Many horses were wound or killed. One of them including the lead stallion him self.
The young colt wept when he saw the sight of his adopted father lying there on the ground, motionless as a rock. Many knew it was the end, for so very few of them had survived an re-grouped. Charcoal's mother was trying so desperately to sooth him, yet he cried even harder. Soon everyone knew it was time to choose a new lead stallion, just a year after the attack. The herd had grew, many loners joining and many foals being born each month. And when no one stepped forward, Charcoal quickly obliged to the offer. It seemed no one was surprised that the young stallion went up, for he was raised on brutality, and almost everyone who had seen him grow up or had grew up with him trusted him to lead their herd, though only a few had their doubts.
Soon, one more year had passed, transforming the colt into a stallion. He felt proud of him self. Truly proud. He soon sired many foals, of which seemed to be of the lighter variety. Most people remembered his birth, and a curiosity rose quickly about the stallion. Most thought it to be hilarious. Others, some sort of curse that the young stallion was the lead. One night, after all horses went to sleep, the elders and Charcoal's mother had a meeting of what to do with the stallion. Many refereed to the war of the black gem, many moons before their time. And at once, they agreed on one thing: they were to ban Charcoal from the herd.
Over-hearing their conversation, Charcoal fled that night, running until his legs went numb. But he never quite. He never stopped from the place he once called home. No, he would never go back. He knew he couldn't. He was nothing. An outcast. A brutal stallion. A stallion no one wanted. He soon became a force breeder, knowing the outcome would be the same as all the other foals. He never wanted to see any of them, always fleeing after he got his pleasure of mounting the mare he had charmed.[/size][/color]
