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Civis
Sept 4, 2013 21:08:04 GMT -7
Post by insanity on Sept 4, 2013 21:08:04 GMT -7
Full Name: Civis Romanus Sum Age: 6 Species: Horse Breed: Lustiano Pelt/Hide Colour: Black with a snip Eye Colour: Brown Gender: Stallion Personality: He is a very respectable horse. Often one who risks his life to rescue slaves. He believes in superstition and very much respects magicians. Of course, he is far from weak and is feared by his enemies. Even complete strangers feel a little skittish around him, still, he is very kind to good horses and respects mares. History: He named himself Civis Romanus Sum because he was born and bred in Rome. As a colt, he learned all the tricks and stratagies of fighting horses. So, he learned to fight at a very young age. At two years old, he was sold to a trainer who abused him so he escaped. The difficulty of survival nearly killed him at first, but soon he adapted to the harsh weather and other horses. He managed to develop a large herd, the largest on the plains where he lived. He had four children with his lead mare, Zephlia. All of which carried on his combat skills. As soon as he took the entire plains area as his own, a fire drove him and his herd away from their territory. It also seperated them. To this day, he hasn't seen one of them. Still, he sees the fire burning in his mind and feels the heat on his face. It crushed his soul, that day, and made him who you now see. Sample Post: I stand before the sea. Crashing in the morning storm, it mists the land above. A milky white foam bathes the beach at my feet. The water feels soothing, though barely touching my coronets. A wind brushes my mane and tail aside and almost makes the scene more dramatic. I glance up to the top of the cliff above me. A cremello mare and a firey chestnut colt look at the same sight. I lower my head, and stroll across the beach. The tide rises and now soaks my cannon bones. I pull my legs up as I step, but keep my head low as I was once trained to walk. The call of gulls echoes in the distance. I break into a run and splash in the salty brine. Soaring over driftwood hurdles, I feel happier than I've ever felt since my solitude began. A fellow stallion, running on the beach as well, neighs a greeting across the space that seperates us. I rear up and reply. He stands still, ears facing me and expression expectant. He wants me to do something. I trot my most brilliant trot in a small circle, and mimick his pose. He walks while crossing each leg over the other, but stumbles quickly. For a little while we observe each other. He is a golden bay quarter horse who has clearly been wild for quite some time. After about ten minutes of watching, he neighs a goodbye and strolls out of sight...
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Civis
Sept 6, 2013 15:58:57 GMT -7
Post by Racing on Sept 6, 2013 15:58:57 GMT -7
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