Post by kyr on Oct 24, 2006 16:33:32 GMT -5
Name
Kyr
Nickname
none
Breed
Arabian X mustang
Gender
stallion
Age
3-4
Color
Black
height
15.3?
Type {normal}
Image Optional
none yet
Example Post
(from kyr on entity-he's moving here)
Cranium bobbed in an all-knowing nodding gesture, as Titanic was off to the birthing grounds. Over the last few weeks, her barrel had bulged to a point where it seemed impossible she could go any longer without foaling, and now, she was off to do just that task. He was highly forbidden in the birthing lands, and although it was his desire to be there with his utmost love, he had to restrain, and patiently await her arrival. Still, worries plagued him, as they would plague any in his situation. He was unable to control the mixture of fears and nerves, all of which were causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach. He glanced in the seemingly desolate terrain, as a bitter chill swept over him, the first sure sign of winter and the season change. His pelt had long since grown hoarse and thick, the only liable protection against the biting winds and feverish flakes. Plume swatting idly at his hocks, dome swinging this way and that in an anxious manner, like a pendulum going to and fro. A shrill, high pitched blast fled from his mug, as the figure of Titanic disappeared over a knoll and into the wooded bed, surrounded by the giants. She would be back soon. She would be fine. This was all he could repeat to himself, in his frantic ways. For some reason or another, a gnawing feeling of dread was in the pit of his stomach, eating away at him like little demons, just causing him to worry and fret more. But where was this all getting him? Just into a nervous state.He could not rid of the horrid feeling, and constantly felt as if something was wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint it or know any of the details. Just, something seemed utterly wrong, and it wasn't something he could fix or make better. Oh, he had to be just imagining this all, right? Everything was fine. She was all right. Obviously referring to Titanic, for she was the only one on his mind, no one else. Why was he so nervous? Why was he afraid? Shouldn't he be happy? Joyous? Titanic was finally about to give life to the wee babe created by himself and her, the foal the two had so long awaited. Why then wasn't he filled with glee? Was this what any father awaiting the mother felt like? He had no idea, he was so new to this, this whole scheme and concept. Had he made a mistake when forcing Titanic to the breeding grounds as soon as he had met her? Was he too young for this all? He was a mere four years, and had already sired a foal. Did he regret all hat he did? No. Somehow, he just knew he made the right choice, no matter how many questions and doubts lurked within his keen mind. How much time had passed? It seemed an eternity, but he knew it had only been a few minutes. Each second ticked off felt like an hour, and he wondered if Titanic had reached the birthing land yet. No, she couldn't have. It was a bit of a journey, and oh how he wished he could help her through this all. She had no idea how much he longed to be with her, and he felt like he was abandon her as she suffered. He really wasn't, he wanted her to know that. He wanted to be with her. He didn't want her to be alone. he didn't want to be alone..
He felt so mixed up. His emotions were combined and torn apart at the same time. He wasn't sure what to think or what to do. Was it all worth it? Yes. He knew it. But still,there were worries at the back of his mind. It was winter. The harshest of all seasons, with the storms, flurries, and gales of wind. Would there even be a chance of survival for the foal? Of course. What was he thinking? He needed to think positive, that was it. But still, how could he? Minutes began to slip away, and Titanic had still not returned. Hours passed, where was she? He began to fret, and nervously nibbled at the stalks, trying to convince himself that nothing was wrong. But something was wrong. He just didn't want to admit it. Instinct told him something was terribly wrong, and, as the night slipped away, the time spent alone confirmed it. Where was Titanic? He needed to find her. He needed to find her now. He wouldn't, and couldn't, wait any longer. With a final glance behind, he set forward, in search of his beloved mare, and possibly,their young.
Occuli were narrow slits as he squinted, searching frantically with his keen sight for any sort of being, any silhouette. Appendages rose as quickly as they fell, knees snapping up in a hurried, sloppy manner. His pace was quick, a hurried canter, nothing like a relaxed lope, but more of a frenzied gallop. Every few moments, labrums would hang ajar as vocals emitted loud blasts, trumpeting noises in hopes of a reply, where his harks would lace forth and flicker and swivel atop his crown, pleading and begging for some sort of answer to his calling. Titaniums left impressions in the soft, squishy, sodden loam, the only trace of his journey, as he frantically searched through the lands of Gavalim. Once he had known these lands so well, but now they were foreign, and all a blur as he whipped through them. He knew no weariness. All he knew was desperation. Desperation to find the one he cared so deeply for, and the one she nurtured. Had there been birthing complications? Had there been a still birth? What was wrong? He needed to know. So, blindly, he continued to race forward, his eyes only having meaning to see the two-tone banshee.
After what seemed hours of endless rampaging, nares flared to reveal the utmost tainting of salmons, and caught the slightest hint of a trace of Titanic's aroma, mixed with a new, exotic scent. Titanic, and the wee babe! They were close, he knew it now. Suddenly, honers caught the softest, maternal words of Titanic. Phantasie. That was his foal's name. Oh, and she was a filly. His heart lept, and he felt a spurt of joy, until the final part of the statement was heard. Rest? Titanic sounded worried. Was there something wrong with Phantasie? He suddenly froze, and stopped dead within his tracks. An icy cold feeling clenched him, and he was unable to move for what seemed the longest time. Was he in shock? What was wrong with him? He needed to get to Titanic. he needed to get to Phantasie. They needed him! But why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he go to them? Why couldn't he help? Because he was afraid of what he might find. He had to get over it. he had to get to them. And with hat final thought, he again lept forward, this time to the awakening of both Titanic and Phantasie. As Titanic fondled the child, reality rushed to him. Phantasie was sick, there was not a doubt. She was weak, very weak he could tell, and had a fever. And, to add to this dismay, Titanic was quickly catching the sickness, and both were turning ill. That is why they had stopped here, because they couldn't make it any farther. The flicka looked so frail and fragile, a pitiful sight. Titanic still held some muscle tone, but it was obvious her health status was dropping. No, this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. He wanted to turn and run. Run away from his problems. Start over. Have a happy ending, not this. He wanted them healthy. But you can't always have what you wish for. Finally getting a hold of himself, he stepped forward into their view before ambling towards them, occuli glinted with a deep sorrow and worry. But, when he saw the determined expression upon Titanic's mask, suddenly his fears went away. Everything would be all right. Obviously, Phantasie had heart to spare, for she had made it all the way into the boundaries of Gavalim, the destination. Now, she had been well rested, they could make it. He knew they could, and he knew they would. As the duo lay huddled, he longed to curl up beside them, and offer his warmth and protection. But he knew he couldn't. Phantasie's illness was contagious, judging that Titanic had caught it from her. He needed to be capable of protecting them in the times of need. He couldn't be limited by any sickness. He had to be able to fight for them. Oh, Titanic.. He trailed off, and kissers tugged at a fallen lock of her boa, boa extending as dome swept down to do so. This was all the affection he could offer in his caution.Sidling towards Phantasie, he murmured. And my dear Phantasie. My brave little filly.. Again he was unable to finish his sentence in the deep emotion he felt, but offered a gentle, fatherly nudge on the frail dear's weak body, before recoiling as he stepped backwards a bit. Visage held a look of pity and of worry, and he quickly explained for his actions, and described what he had in mind. Titanic, dear, we both know Phantasie has a contagious illness, and it will spread like wildfire if we are not careful. We can't put others at risk, so we must stay isolated. We will stay here until you are both well, and I will be staying with you, but off a bit, but none the less, always watching and guarding over you. I will always be here. He couldn't help but to add. We will make it through this.
Kyr
Nickname
none
Breed
Arabian X mustang
Gender
stallion
Age
3-4
Color
Black
height
15.3?
Type {normal}
Image Optional
none yet
Example Post
(from kyr on entity-he's moving here)
Cranium bobbed in an all-knowing nodding gesture, as Titanic was off to the birthing grounds. Over the last few weeks, her barrel had bulged to a point where it seemed impossible she could go any longer without foaling, and now, she was off to do just that task. He was highly forbidden in the birthing lands, and although it was his desire to be there with his utmost love, he had to restrain, and patiently await her arrival. Still, worries plagued him, as they would plague any in his situation. He was unable to control the mixture of fears and nerves, all of which were causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach. He glanced in the seemingly desolate terrain, as a bitter chill swept over him, the first sure sign of winter and the season change. His pelt had long since grown hoarse and thick, the only liable protection against the biting winds and feverish flakes. Plume swatting idly at his hocks, dome swinging this way and that in an anxious manner, like a pendulum going to and fro. A shrill, high pitched blast fled from his mug, as the figure of Titanic disappeared over a knoll and into the wooded bed, surrounded by the giants. She would be back soon. She would be fine. This was all he could repeat to himself, in his frantic ways. For some reason or another, a gnawing feeling of dread was in the pit of his stomach, eating away at him like little demons, just causing him to worry and fret more. But where was this all getting him? Just into a nervous state.He could not rid of the horrid feeling, and constantly felt as if something was wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint it or know any of the details. Just, something seemed utterly wrong, and it wasn't something he could fix or make better. Oh, he had to be just imagining this all, right? Everything was fine. She was all right. Obviously referring to Titanic, for she was the only one on his mind, no one else. Why was he so nervous? Why was he afraid? Shouldn't he be happy? Joyous? Titanic was finally about to give life to the wee babe created by himself and her, the foal the two had so long awaited. Why then wasn't he filled with glee? Was this what any father awaiting the mother felt like? He had no idea, he was so new to this, this whole scheme and concept. Had he made a mistake when forcing Titanic to the breeding grounds as soon as he had met her? Was he too young for this all? He was a mere four years, and had already sired a foal. Did he regret all hat he did? No. Somehow, he just knew he made the right choice, no matter how many questions and doubts lurked within his keen mind. How much time had passed? It seemed an eternity, but he knew it had only been a few minutes. Each second ticked off felt like an hour, and he wondered if Titanic had reached the birthing land yet. No, she couldn't have. It was a bit of a journey, and oh how he wished he could help her through this all. She had no idea how much he longed to be with her, and he felt like he was abandon her as she suffered. He really wasn't, he wanted her to know that. He wanted to be with her. He didn't want her to be alone. he didn't want to be alone..
He felt so mixed up. His emotions were combined and torn apart at the same time. He wasn't sure what to think or what to do. Was it all worth it? Yes. He knew it. But still,there were worries at the back of his mind. It was winter. The harshest of all seasons, with the storms, flurries, and gales of wind. Would there even be a chance of survival for the foal? Of course. What was he thinking? He needed to think positive, that was it. But still, how could he? Minutes began to slip away, and Titanic had still not returned. Hours passed, where was she? He began to fret, and nervously nibbled at the stalks, trying to convince himself that nothing was wrong. But something was wrong. He just didn't want to admit it. Instinct told him something was terribly wrong, and, as the night slipped away, the time spent alone confirmed it. Where was Titanic? He needed to find her. He needed to find her now. He wouldn't, and couldn't, wait any longer. With a final glance behind, he set forward, in search of his beloved mare, and possibly,their young.
Occuli were narrow slits as he squinted, searching frantically with his keen sight for any sort of being, any silhouette. Appendages rose as quickly as they fell, knees snapping up in a hurried, sloppy manner. His pace was quick, a hurried canter, nothing like a relaxed lope, but more of a frenzied gallop. Every few moments, labrums would hang ajar as vocals emitted loud blasts, trumpeting noises in hopes of a reply, where his harks would lace forth and flicker and swivel atop his crown, pleading and begging for some sort of answer to his calling. Titaniums left impressions in the soft, squishy, sodden loam, the only trace of his journey, as he frantically searched through the lands of Gavalim. Once he had known these lands so well, but now they were foreign, and all a blur as he whipped through them. He knew no weariness. All he knew was desperation. Desperation to find the one he cared so deeply for, and the one she nurtured. Had there been birthing complications? Had there been a still birth? What was wrong? He needed to know. So, blindly, he continued to race forward, his eyes only having meaning to see the two-tone banshee.
After what seemed hours of endless rampaging, nares flared to reveal the utmost tainting of salmons, and caught the slightest hint of a trace of Titanic's aroma, mixed with a new, exotic scent. Titanic, and the wee babe! They were close, he knew it now. Suddenly, honers caught the softest, maternal words of Titanic. Phantasie. That was his foal's name. Oh, and she was a filly. His heart lept, and he felt a spurt of joy, until the final part of the statement was heard. Rest? Titanic sounded worried. Was there something wrong with Phantasie? He suddenly froze, and stopped dead within his tracks. An icy cold feeling clenched him, and he was unable to move for what seemed the longest time. Was he in shock? What was wrong with him? He needed to get to Titanic. he needed to get to Phantasie. They needed him! But why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he go to them? Why couldn't he help? Because he was afraid of what he might find. He had to get over it. he had to get to them. And with hat final thought, he again lept forward, this time to the awakening of both Titanic and Phantasie. As Titanic fondled the child, reality rushed to him. Phantasie was sick, there was not a doubt. She was weak, very weak he could tell, and had a fever. And, to add to this dismay, Titanic was quickly catching the sickness, and both were turning ill. That is why they had stopped here, because they couldn't make it any farther. The flicka looked so frail and fragile, a pitiful sight. Titanic still held some muscle tone, but it was obvious her health status was dropping. No, this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. He wanted to turn and run. Run away from his problems. Start over. Have a happy ending, not this. He wanted them healthy. But you can't always have what you wish for. Finally getting a hold of himself, he stepped forward into their view before ambling towards them, occuli glinted with a deep sorrow and worry. But, when he saw the determined expression upon Titanic's mask, suddenly his fears went away. Everything would be all right. Obviously, Phantasie had heart to spare, for she had made it all the way into the boundaries of Gavalim, the destination. Now, she had been well rested, they could make it. He knew they could, and he knew they would. As the duo lay huddled, he longed to curl up beside them, and offer his warmth and protection. But he knew he couldn't. Phantasie's illness was contagious, judging that Titanic had caught it from her. He needed to be capable of protecting them in the times of need. He couldn't be limited by any sickness. He had to be able to fight for them. Oh, Titanic.. He trailed off, and kissers tugged at a fallen lock of her boa, boa extending as dome swept down to do so. This was all the affection he could offer in his caution.Sidling towards Phantasie, he murmured. And my dear Phantasie. My brave little filly.. Again he was unable to finish his sentence in the deep emotion he felt, but offered a gentle, fatherly nudge on the frail dear's weak body, before recoiling as he stepped backwards a bit. Visage held a look of pity and of worry, and he quickly explained for his actions, and described what he had in mind. Titanic, dear, we both know Phantasie has a contagious illness, and it will spread like wildfire if we are not careful. We can't put others at risk, so we must stay isolated. We will stay here until you are both well, and I will be staying with you, but off a bit, but none the less, always watching and guarding over you. I will always be here. He couldn't help but to add. We will make it through this.
