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Prompts

A] This stallion has suffered not from the hands of the wilderness, but from the hands of humankind. Once a great circus horse, his master beat him until he could stand no more. Death was a kind release. However, now that he is resurfacing to the material world, to live a second life anew, what are his thoughts on his old life? Is he afraid to go into the world again, afraid that he might meet more humans? Or is he angry? Vengeful? Willing to do whatever it takes to find his old master?

B] Time has not been easy on this stallion. Now that he's back in the world of the living, it's easy to see that he's been dead for however many years. Of course, that doesn't stop him from being thankful. What are his first thoughts as he steps outside the cave, into the fresh night air? What does he experience?

Form

[i]Stallion of Abuse[/i]
[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Name of Horse:[/b]
[b]Prompt:[/b]
[b]Response:[/b]

Stallion of Abuse
Username: Darkmoon Dancer
Name of Horse: Inteus (has no shame, in Native)
Prompt:
A] This stallion has suffered not from the hands of the wilderness, but from the hands of humankind. Once a great circus horse, his master beat him until he could stand no more. Death was a kind release. However, now that he is resurfacing to the material world, to live a second life anew, what are his thoughts on his old life? Is he afraid to go into the world again, afraid that he might meet more humans? Or is he angry? Vengeful? Willing to do whatever it takes to find his old master?
Response:
Dark, boiling anger bubbled inside of him. It pushed up and out of him in an aura that was almost visible, were anyone watching. His eyes were dark with rage as he stepped out into the moonlight of this world. His wild mane whipped about his head in the wind that appeared almost as suddenly as he had. He took a deep breath of the cold night air and took in the scene before him.

Back again. Back in this world of disgusting two-leggers and their pink flesh, their greed, and their irrational violence.
Well, I'm sure they weren't expecting me back again. Back in their material world.

Images of hundreds of pink faces flashed before his eyes, laughing & pointing, at him. Strange proportions, red & white paint, and ridiculous costumes came to mind, too.
They made a shiver run down Inteus' spine. A grunt and a stamp of the foot demonstrated his dislike of such a freakshow. The thought of two-leggers gathering to exploit animals, and strange-looking beings of their own kind made his anger burn hotter.

White man doesn't deserve it's rank, and were it upto me, they'd be the hunted and the humiliated.

He shook his head, inadvertently throwing his mane about aggressively. His head came up once more, and he took his first steps into this material world as a free horse. The moon shone bright and the wind howled all the louder, as if it were urging him on. The stars twinkled above, and the white-washed ground was soft under his hooves. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. This was a feeling that he had missed. This caress of wilderness, this freedom that had been snatched away from him in his last life.

He opened his eyes and took one look around before a wide grin overtook his features and he set off in a gallop, stretching his limbs happily. He felt like a colt again, wild and free.
But this time around, he had one rule to live by: White man would not be dominant under his gaze.
As of yet, he was not sure how far he would take this rule, and how drastically he would respond should he set eyes on an overbearing pink two-legger, but he had time to decide the details later. At the very least, he knew that should he find the man that had beaten him into nothing in his last life, there would be no mercy. A hit for a hit.


((OOC: I would envision him being alright, even friendly with Natives, but at the sight of a white man, go berserk and want to unleash his fury on them. And in that case, he wouldn't touch females or children, as he's no beast, and sees no point in harming the innocent. But his strongest belief would be that Men are evil and greedy and violent, therefore should be re-paid with violence via his rock-hard hooves.

And the man that hurt him, would eventually be seeked out and probably killed after a good spook.))

The Unwanted Stallion
Username: She-Ra of Etheria
Name of Horse: Rowan
Prompt: All its life [and death] this horse has had to deal with the ropes chocking and bothering it. They have left their marks on its body. But he has no memory of why they are there, and why he is dead... So when he is chosen to enter back into the world of the living, he accepts. And when he passes the barrier, his memories return. Why were the ropes around him? Why did he die? What is he going to do now?
Response:
The choice to return to the land of the living was not a particularly hard decision for Rowan to make. He had no real memories of the time when he had once lived and was almost curious to see what that world was like again. Perhaps returning to life would cause some relief from these blasted ropes around him. In the end it was more the herd instinct than anything that made him follow the others through the weakened barrier of Hell out into the world they had all once lived in.

Stepping through the barrier he found himself in a world of colour. Rich green grasses, blue skies and rivers came into his vision. Then he took a deep breath of the air and a shudder ran down his spine. It was not one of fear, but of disgust. Humans were in these lands. Their scent began to bring back to him memories of the time before he found himself in hell.

***********

Rowan galloped across the open meadow, his mane flowing freely in the cool morning breeze. He was a young and eager stallion looking to start a herd of his own. Near a small lake he spotted a herd of horses. There were four mares and a stallion. This would be the best herd to try to get a mare from or if things went well to take over entirely. He watched them for some time, judging the stallion carefully. The dark chestnut was of similar size to Rowan so it should be an easy fight. Waiting until the stallion was on the far side of the herd Rowan came galloping out of the trees, tossing his head. The mares immediately snapped their heads up from their grazing to see who was intruding on their peaceful moment.

The chestnut stallion swiftly went into action, snorting at his herd as they moved off to allow him the room he would need to drive this intruder away. Rowan leapt at the stallion as he closed the distance between him, hooves in the air, teeth bared. Rearing up to defend himself the chestnut kicked out at Rowan’s front legs and twisted his head away to avoid a bite to the neck.

After what seemed like an eternity of fighting the stallions were starting to tire. Both were covered in blood and cuts. A yell from the tree line grabbed both of their attentions and for a moment they ceased the fight. Men on horses began to make their way towards the small herd, intent on catching another mustang or two to break. The chestnut screamed out to his mares and they took off. Rowan hesitated for only a moment before following the herd. He was tired, and so was the other stallion, but they had to keep running.

The chase led them through a bank of trees and Rowan began to fall behind. He had used most of his energy to fight the stallion. The men closed in on him, tossing ropes around his neck. Rowan fought hard but he had little energy left to do so. In the end they lead him away to a small settlement to be broke the next day.

At the settlement the men fitted Rowan with a rope halter and tied him to a post. They gave him hay and water but left him be for the rest of the night. Rowan eagerly ate the hay and filled himself with the cool, refreshing water. For many hours of the night he rested, saving up his energy. Occasionally he pulled against the rope but it only rubbed against his skin irritating him further. He had to find a way to escape, to get back to the meadows he loved.

As the sun rose, the men of the settlement began to wake. Soon they would come for him and Rowan knew he had to act quickly. He pulled against the rope that held him but it would not budge. Hearing the voices of the men coming closer he became desperate. He took the rope between him teeth and chewed his way through it. Immediately he bolted towards the fence. Men shouted and rushed to recapture their prize. Rowan jumped the fence; he would be free once again. Then tightness came about his back leg and he landed hard on his side. A rope had been thrown around his leg as he jumped to his freedom. As he stood to try to escape again another rope landed around his neck.

He fought hard again, having tasted his freedom only moments before. The men pulled and fought the stallion. The ropes burned his skin and dug in deeply but he would not give up. They began to force him towards the post again. No, he had to get away. But he was still weak from the previous day and soon found himself tied to the post again. The rope around his neck had been securely tied to that damn post and the more he fought the tighter the loop got. Now another man took the rope around his leg and tied it off to the nearby fence. Rowan had nowhere to go and his options were running out.

His eyes caught sight of a man approaching him, holding something long and dark in his hands. He couldn’t quite make out what it was. Then the whip snapped against his back. Pain ran through his body and he screamed out in terror. Why were they doing this? Again the whip came down on him. He couldn’t take this much longer. He began to pull his head away from the post, the rope tightening more and more around his neck. The more he pulled the harder it became to breath and soon darkness began to fill his vision. With one last pull Rowan choked the life out of himself and for lack of a better way of looking at it, freed himself from the torturous ways of those men.

**********

With his memories returned Rowan snorted angrily. How could he have been so foolish to return to this place? Stretching his neck he hopes to loosen the rope a bit, but it only tightened itself further. It always tightened no matter what he did. He shook his mane and told himself that the ropes would serve as a reminder of the cruelty of humans and should he ever see one he would return the kindness that they had once showed him.

Stallion of Abuse
Username: C.h.e.s.h.i.r.e
Name of Horse: Vengeance
Prompt: A
Response: Out of the depths of Hell stepped a gray horse. His hooves, still red hot from the fires of Hell, turned the fallen leaves underfoot to ash as he walked. He moved zombie like for hours. No coherent thoughts surfaced, only a need stronger than any he had ever known.

One word surfaced from the chaotic depths of a mind. Death. He had died. Fire. He gone to hell. Blood. So much blood. A man. Who was the man? Whip. The stallions head shot up and the piercing cry he let out was murderous. The whip. The tool of his destruction. The bringer of pain and death. An image came to him then. Blood. Red trails of it slithering and dancing down his gray hide, and then dripping softly to mingle with the dirt beneath him. Vengeance.

The skeletal trees above rustled in the wind dropping whatever life still clung to them. Quickly, and with purpose the stallion moved onward. As he continued on, the need to keep moving overwhelmed him. It called to him and pressed him forward. Nothing could keep him from the task at hand. He did not grow weary and he simply ignored all stomach pains. It was as if the stallion were pulled along by some invisible leash.

As the stallion crossed a dead stream, another memory came to him.. The whip. It rose above his head, cracking like a demon from hell and ravenously biting into the skin where it landed. A man. He raised the demon again and cackled as he set it free to bring pain and then death. Vengeance let out a murderous scream and pushed onward once more. The man would die for the pain he had wrought, the stallion had but no other purpose.

The beast galloped onward now, his task could not wait any longer. Hours later, Vengeance skidded to a halt as he approached a clearing. A disgusting smell filled his nostrils as he stepped out of the trees and another flashback started. A scream. His own. The stallion let out a murderous cry as another dare try and approach his master. The other took another step forward and the gray stallion lashed out and bit into skin. He could feel the flesh tear and knew he was triumphant. No one would dare cross him again. Then his vision changed. Betrayal. The demon whip bit into his hide once more, causing blood to flow down his once glorious hide in streams. A man. His master. The one he adored so much, had struggled to always please. And now? The stallion had been betrayed. The master he had loved so much, now controlled the demon. Death had been a release.

When the vision passed, the stallion could see where the foul odor came from. In the middle of the deserted clearing sat a trailer. Inside, he knew, waited the man, his old master. Vengeance screamed once more and waited. Sure enough the old drunk came out. His old master reeked of alcohol and sweat. It had been 10 years since they had last met and they had not been good ones for the man. The stallion stared at the man waiting for recognition.

Slowly the man looked around. He had heard the piercing cry and he knew it well. But of course it couldn't be what he thought it was. Then, his focus settled on the stallion. “Sky?” He whispered. Immediately fear overwhelmed the confusion in the man's eyes. “No, you're dead!” The old man screamed in denial.

Vengeance watched the man's building terror and it pleased him. Now, he would have his revenge. His Vengeance.

The Unwanted Stallion

Username: Velveteen Angel

Name of Horse: Tohopka

Prompt: a] All its life [and death] this horse has had to deal with the ropes chocking and bothering it. They have left their marks on its body. But he has no memory of why they are there, and why he is dead... So when he is chosen to enter back into the world of the living, he accepts. And when he passes the barrier, his memories return. Why were the ropes around him? Why did he die? What is he going to do now?

Response:

Tohopka's heart pounded fiercely as he walked. He was returning the world of the live, of the living, of the not-dead-yet. He had thought that he would never see it again, that it would be a constant mystery in his life. He knew he had lived once, long ago he had been alive, but he couldn't remember it.
Someone, another horse, had told him the air was fresher there, that the sun was warm on your skin. When he tried, all her saw was a darkness in his mind where his memories ought to have been.
He sucked in a deep breathe, eyes tightly closed, he took his first step into the new world. The second his hoof touched the grass, his eyes flew open but he saw nothing.
-
”Weeeha! Lookit 'im go! Haha. We got a fighter!”
Their laughter roared in his ears as he twisted, bucked and screamed. The ropes cut into his skin and when he'd managed to break one off, another was returned. He screamed, begging the other horses around the ring to help him but they could do nothing. They were struggling, biting at their own ropes but they couldn't help. The only ones who could help were the ones doing this to him.
Humans.
They thought it was funny. Watching him struggle, beg and plead when they couldn't understand him. He screamed as a rope wrapped around his ankle. He felt it cut in, dragging him down to the ground.
“Ye guys know wot 'is name means?” That same voice roared, sounding deafening in his hears. Cheers sounded, the people watching and laughing. “It means Wild Beast!”
Tohopka listened to the bellowing noises around him, heart fiercely pounding. He tried to climb back to his feet, but ropes cut into him and caught him. They held him down until he had no more fight. Even when he was broken and spent, the ropes kept coming until he couldn't move.
“Aw,” the voice was mocking, “poor little beast is all tired out. Let's see if we can't get 'im going again?”
And suddenly, it started all over again.
-
Tohopka was silent.
The other horse had been right, the air was fresher and the sun was warm here. It looked beautiful, but in his mind, it was ugly.
Ugly, disgusting pitiful world.
He had made a mistake.
He wanted to go back to the world of the dead. This world, this new world, was so much worse.