Post by therenegade on Jul 1, 2007 20:27:57 GMT -5
Name Ranger
Nickname {None}
Breed Mustang
Gender Stallion
Age 6
Color Black
height 16.1 hh
Type normal
Image flickr.com/photos/paultcb/687063170/
Example Post
The stag held his head low, the forelock falling into his abyssal eyes as he surveyed the scene before him. There was nothing interesting except a gathering of vultures above him and the stirring of fog below him. He plodded slowly, carefully along, making not a noise on the soft spring shoots.
Ranger stopped and stood stock still watching the birds fight in the air, their decrepit bodies making soft whooshing noises on the air. A snort sounded as the thick bodied stag made a threatening gesture towards the hooded scavengers. He didn't want them in his territory, they almost always attracted unwanted attention from predators and other unwelcomed guests. The fuzzy black thorns laced themselves back on Ranger's crown until they were lost in the thick mane. How he hated those ugly beasts, though he would never hurt them unless they picked a fight with him first.
On the surface, Ranger seemed volitile and brooding, his eyes always roving and posture dominant. Underneath he was the same but mixed into this mess was a love for those close to him, undying affection, and playful nature that came out around his little family and his progeny. He was a male, all testosterone, and loved to protect things.
Standing on the top of the valley, the black stallion watched as the vultures moved on, looking for food and a fight elsewhere.
Nickname {None}
Breed Mustang
Gender Stallion
Age 6
Color Black
height 16.1 hh
Type normal
Image flickr.com/photos/paultcb/687063170/
Example Post
The stag held his head low, the forelock falling into his abyssal eyes as he surveyed the scene before him. There was nothing interesting except a gathering of vultures above him and the stirring of fog below him. He plodded slowly, carefully along, making not a noise on the soft spring shoots.
Ranger stopped and stood stock still watching the birds fight in the air, their decrepit bodies making soft whooshing noises on the air. A snort sounded as the thick bodied stag made a threatening gesture towards the hooded scavengers. He didn't want them in his territory, they almost always attracted unwanted attention from predators and other unwelcomed guests. The fuzzy black thorns laced themselves back on Ranger's crown until they were lost in the thick mane. How he hated those ugly beasts, though he would never hurt them unless they picked a fight with him first.
On the surface, Ranger seemed volitile and brooding, his eyes always roving and posture dominant. Underneath he was the same but mixed into this mess was a love for those close to him, undying affection, and playful nature that came out around his little family and his progeny. He was a male, all testosterone, and loved to protect things.
Standing on the top of the valley, the black stallion watched as the vultures moved on, looking for food and a fight elsewhere.