Post by dokota on Oct 6, 2007 10:10:47 GMT
My daggers hit the grass and my pillars carried me forward. I was
making my way to no where specific, just wandering. Hoping to find
some land to call my own. I came upon a cluster of trees and stopped
under them. Shorly this was someones land, but the place was deserted.
I came further out into the open. The wind picked up my tassels and
made them fly out behind me. My whipcord swaying in this breeze.
Time passed as I stood there, examining this place. It had great
potential and no horse came to greet me. I was starting to think
I had finally found a home. I waited silent as ever but still no sign
of any horse was shown. So I opened my maw and my kissers formed
the words that my lyrics responded to. The words rang out loud and
clear and the wind carried it across many other lands
I claim this land, it shall be my own and any horse who wants it
will have to go through me first
My voice was cold and dark, just like how I remembered my brothers
voice, pity he was now dead. My ears pricked for any sound that
may come. For this was now my home and would always be the place
in which my foals would grow up in and where my mares would live
making my way to no where specific, just wandering. Hoping to find
some land to call my own. I came upon a cluster of trees and stopped
under them. Shorly this was someones land, but the place was deserted.
I came further out into the open. The wind picked up my tassels and
made them fly out behind me. My whipcord swaying in this breeze.
Time passed as I stood there, examining this place. It had great
potential and no horse came to greet me. I was starting to think
I had finally found a home. I waited silent as ever but still no sign
of any horse was shown. So I opened my maw and my kissers formed
the words that my lyrics responded to. The words rang out loud and
clear and the wind carried it across many other lands
I claim this land, it shall be my own and any horse who wants it
will have to go through me first
My voice was cold and dark, just like how I remembered my brothers
voice, pity he was now dead. My ears pricked for any sound that
may come. For this was now my home and would always be the place
in which my foals would grow up in and where my mares would live
Land Name: Mort Valley
Land Description: This is a small valley. This Valley starts with a small forest which is more like a few trees around a huge patch of grass, this is where the horses of the herd graze. Just beyond the grass is a desert. The sand isn’t actually sand. It is tiny pieces of bones but nobody knows this accept from Firey Grave. These are the bones of horses that have disobeyed. Instead of leaving the bones in the poor horse’s cell, Firey Grave drags the bones back here and stomps them down so that they look like sand. Not many horses are seen in this part of the land but it is known that it is a great mistake to disobey the lead. If you do prepare to pay the consequences, this lead shows no mercy for the reason it is called Mort Valley is because mort is the french word for death.
Lead Brute: Firey Grave
Land Description: This is a small valley. This Valley starts with a small forest which is more like a few trees around a huge patch of grass, this is where the horses of the herd graze. Just beyond the grass is a desert. The sand isn’t actually sand. It is tiny pieces of bones but nobody knows this accept from Firey Grave. These are the bones of horses that have disobeyed. Instead of leaving the bones in the poor horse’s cell, Firey Grave drags the bones back here and stomps them down so that they look like sand. Not many horses are seen in this part of the land but it is known that it is a great mistake to disobey the lead. If you do prepare to pay the consequences, this lead shows no mercy for the reason it is called Mort Valley is because mort is the french word for death.
Lead Brute: Firey Grave
