|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Dec 31, 2009 10:46 pm
This little Falabella Stallion believes he is a war hero, and he eagerly wants his story to be told!
What you need to do to get him, is write me a poem, or an epic of sorts, describing his most valiant feat, (ie, his war story, his biggest achievement)
BUT!
I also need you to describe what he looks like in it somehow!
The winner will have him colored up however I interpret your description of him in the poem/epic.
There is also potential for him to get a few small accessories that correspond with his story or achievement. ;D
REMEMBER: He will be colored according to your description, so make sure to include everything you need, as you will NOT be allowed to offer reference images or color swatches or anything like that. Be as vague or as detailed as you like, but bear this in mind:
Incorporate your description into the poem, don't just write what he looks like at the beginning or end. Weave it in, leave me hints and images here and there.
Make your poem flow nicely. And have fun with it! GO HERE TO POST YOUR ENTRIES!
Rules
1. All shop rules apply.
2. You may edit your posts until the end of the contest.
3. NO POSTING REF PICTURES! The only input that you get as to what he will look like, will be the description you include within your poem.
4.There is no minimum or maximum to your poem, just make it as long as you need it to be. Now, that being said, I don't want to scroll for 10 minutes to get to the bottom of your post. xD
5. Have fun!
Start: Now!
End: Jan. 4th, @ 7pm PST (10pm PST)
Please use the following form when posting your entry!
[color=slategray][u][b]I'M A WARPONY! 8D[/b][/u][/color]
[b]Pony's Name:[/b]
[b]Owner's Name:[/b]
[b]Poem/Epic:[/b]
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 12:22 am
I'M A WARPONY! 8D
Pony's Name: Askai
Owner's Name: Scaramouche Fandango
Poem/Epic: "The Longest Night"
Eyes flash green 'neath chestnut mane
As a hero rides again.
Coat of fire, ice and steel,
Hooves as diamonds on the hill,
He's every inch a noble beast,
Yet something's wrong to say the least.
His carriage, proud though it should be
Is lacking some... integrity.
Although he looks a jolly sort,
Hooves cracking out a sharp retort
Against the driving wind that blows,
Thick fur protecting him from snow,
The opposite is what is true,
Inside, his heart has split in two.
Something here is very wrong,
Something's bothered him of long.
And yet he hides beneath his mane,
Sheer bravado to hide the pain.
Without a herd, he charges by,
Seeking shelter for the night.
This place is cold, this place wet,
This place the worst he's found yet.
Although the plains are nice and wide,
From many areas he shies.
For reasons known to few on earth,
Places he's been are given wide berth.
At last he finds the perfect patch
To rest his feet and keep night watch.
As he trots into the glen,
He sees the signs that others have been
Here; a fox's tracks, a raven's feather,
Here is a place to escape harsh weather
And although he is quite weary,
Moreso than that, he is wary.
Something is not as it seems;
A being here that should not be.
Curious, the stallion nears
To judge the creature- should it be feared?
As he approaches, his lips draw back
As a shape emerges from the black.
A human child, shiv'ring, cold,
A little boy, lost in the snow.
His eyes held wide, his ears held flat,
Sharp hooves take him three steps back.
He's seen the sons of man before,
Carried them, bore them in their wars.
He knows too well brutality,
That men lead to fatality.
He's seen his own kind foaming red,
Broken, screaming, left for dead.
He knows the meaning of his stripes,
Counted the scars that gave him the right
To bear the mark of human wars
And mark him as a tainted horse.
How can he face any others
When he's borne that which killed their brothers?
But yet...
The child's crying in the night,
Softly, a captive of his fright.
It's not his fault that he's alone,
Nothing wrong has this boy done.
He's innocent, this human foal,
And though his people are not so,
The stallion cannot leave this glen,
Cannot leave this child then.
There is no other who has stayed;
For all beasts are rightly afraid
Of men. But... he is not a man,
Not a warrior, not right then.
The boy looks up, too chilled to move.
The stallion kneels near him to prove
That man and nature can be friends,
That peacetime doesn't have to end.
A whuff of breath, a knicker here,
A soft touch chases away fear.
An open heart, an open mind,
An outreach to another kind.
Perhaps the boy deserved his trust;
Perhaps he didn't. Still, he must
Stay with him until the dawn
Breaks upon the frozen lawn.
And to his people, he will see
His safe return on equine wings.
And as the boy drifts off to sleep,
A silent watch the stallion keeps.
Fingers tangled in his mane,
He feels a human's touch again.
The boy needs him, this he knows;
He will protect him from the snow.
He breaks a promise made of yore
And by doing this, he wins his war.
No longer will he be ruled by fear
Of humans, be they far or near.
They are what they are; they won't be changed,
But no longer will they affect his range.
He'll go where he will, and fear men no more,
But he will not be dragged into their wars.
He has the courage to face their ropes,
For the touch of a child has given him hope.
More than that; he will not carry
What he's protected to see him buried.
And with his hardened resolution,
He knows he's gotten his solution.
All traces of his hatred gone,
The boy and stallion wait for dawn.
Now their battles finally won,
The boy and stallion face the sun.
They've seen that they can grapple fears
And in the morning, still be here.
Lying by each others' side,
Brothers in arms, brothers in pride.
And though each one was fraught with fright,
He helped him through his Longest Night.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 8:03 am
I'M A WARPONY! 8D
Pony's Name: Tiger Eye
Owner's Name: JetAlmeara
Poem/Epic: "Hearts Valor"
The night had softly fallen
No troubles were foreseen
But this ruse was quickly over
Twin eyes were gleaming green
From within the darker forest
growls and fangs that wore a sheen
Told of horrors to be spoken
And a hunger that was keen
The herd had quickly scattered
Running wild throughout the trees
A bid to see the sunrise
To escape the death fangs seize
The Tiger might have followed
Had a cry not made him freeze
A small foal had been forgotten
and his voice called out his pleas
There was a moments hesitation
As the brindled buckskin skid
His dark mane slowly flashing
As he turned to face the kid
Slinking forms within the darkness
Hurried forth to make thier bid
For a dinner easily gotten
And the future rest on what he did
His mind flashed back to foalhood
When his mother set him straight
You are smaller then the others
But let that not relate
To the wonders of your nature
let that be your greatest trait
One day you will be tested
And we shall see how large you rate
This test had shown itself at last
That much was certainly clear
And Tiger had no time to waste
So he shucked aside his fear
Our gallant hero let loose a yell
White socks flashing in a rear
The wolves did show him what they thought
As they turned to give a sneer
Who was this tiny beast
who so dared to test thier might
His threat was barely noticed
why he barely passed thier height!
None the less the wolves did circle
Mouths snapping in delight
It seemed they would be dining well
On two horses this moonlite night
But our Tiger barely noticed
That the wolves they did not fear
And snow kicked up around him
As he churned it into gear
His tiny legs were powered
By a will that was quite clear
He would save this foal
This dreary night and not to hear a cheer
The fight is was quite vicious
At times it seemed as though
Our hero would be vanquished
and the night would be our foes
But Tiger fought with valor
Which several scars would always show
The gods did shine thier luck upon him
And the herd would always know
That tiny Tiger stood and fought
While the rest of them had fled
The tiny foal he saved grew large and strong
When he would have been quite dead
Tiger proved worth stood not in size
But in your heart instead
And that little foal whose life he saved?
Why he grew up and led!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 01, 2010 10:48 am
I'M A WARPONY! 8D
Pony's Name: Doon
Owner's Name: Pale Mist
Poem/Epic: "Moon-less"
I can hear the sounds of screams.
They echo in my soft brown ears,
My striking yellow eyes search
For what caused the horror.
I bat my black tail. Its almond tip a whip.
I am angry.
I want to help.
I am a war pony.
I find the source.
The enemy.
My whole cream brown body tightens.
I plant my back hooves into the ground.
Ready like a cobra.
My mind is clear, only one thought swimming.
Save them save them. Be the hero.
My enemy stands before me, great wings spread.
It is an vile vulture, attacking the young ones.
Has it no shame?
It is large, and i am small, but i have courage to spare.
My dark feathering dances in the winds,
My spirit sores.
I take a deep breath through my black tipped nose,
and swell my excited lungs.
My mane no longer in my eyes.
I see an opening.
Be the hero, save them all.
It is your time to shine.
I snort like a wild lion, ready to attack.
The enemy returns the act.
I lung all my body.
From black hoof
To brown striped spine.
And i fly like an eagle, attacking with all might.
The moment stops.
The blood drops.
And there i stand with victory.
For i have slew the foul beast.
And i am the victor today.
I am a war pony.
I have earned the colored paint,
That i see the heros wear.
No i chose the shape
the symbol
That will be painted on my skin.
A blue swirl
A red arrow
A pair of wings from the enemy.
The all now are engraved in my hairs.
As the memory is in my mind.
I am a war pony!
[its a story of him when he saved the foals form a vulture. the poem is meant to be like dream, so its all twisted and exaggerated in his mind xD]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 11:37 pm
I'M A WARPONY! 8D
Pony's Name: Menawa
Owner's Name: She-Ra of Etheria
Poem/Epic: Drums of War
At dawn drums begin to sound,
And my heart begins to pound,
I have heard this sound before,
It signals the coming of a war.
The sun it has only begun to rise,
It’s rays dance across my spotted hide,
I race toward the human’s camp,
Warriors chant, their feet they do stamp.
Sweet grass burns all around,
A better smell cannot be found,
To purify those who go off to fight,
Lending to them their ancestors might.
A line of horses stand at the ready nearby,
The air is filled with a battle cry,
I join my brothers as they prepare,
A few of them look at me and stare.
I am quite smaller than the rest,
But that doesn’t mean that they are the best,
For my heart is as big as theirs,
I hold my head high, ignoring the stares.
While my brothers will allow a human to ride,
I will merely carry things on my side,
A harness is slipped over my back,
To help carry arrows into the attack.
As the sun rises high the Elders begin to sing,
And one by one their voices ring,
“Oh ancestors hear our call,
Protect our men, do not let them fall.”
The drums of war beat louder now,
I shift my mane off of my brow,
The warriors climb aboard their steeds,
Those of which now take the lead.
Though my legs are quite short,
I keep up with the battle cohort,
Soon the enemy is within our sight,
But we are ready and willing to fight.
My eyes are wide open, hooves at the ready,
The other horses and men stand steady,
They have all seen this before,
Then one lets out a battle roar.
Hooves fling dirt as they race toward,
The enemy’s men who also move forward,
Archers stay back to defend from far away,
Not yet joining the others in the fray.
I stay with the archers running to and fro,
Giving them arrows to notch in their bow,
But soon the arrows that seemed so plenty,
Are all gone, the quivers are empty.
The men take up axes and run in to fight,
I run in as well, my mane taking flight,
The smell, the sight, the sounds of war,
Those I had not yet experience before.
The cries of the injured men as they lay,
On blood stained grass, I hear them say,
That they need help, but what can I do,
If only I were bigger, they could ride me too.
Then something hits be with a bump,
The shock of it makes me jump,
My eyes do not believe the scene,
Not a man, but a boy, barely a teen.
His arm is broken, his wounds they bleed,
He looks at me, his young eyes plead,
I know that I must help him now,
Although I really don’t know how.
I get a bit closer more or less,
He grabs on to my leather harness,
With a grunt I pull as hard as I can,
I must save this boy so he can become a man.
The fighting goes on all around,
My hooves dig into the soft ground,
But slowly I begin to make my way,
Back to the camp and out of the fray.
Soon we are at camp free from harm,
A woman cries out in alarm,
For I have returned with her only son,
A healer crosses the camp at a run.
As they tend to the boy who is barely a teen,
I recall just what that day I had seen,
Another woman comes to remove my harness,
By now my mane and tail are a matted mess.
With water in hand she cleans off my hide,
The white and the black that dot my side,
Time goes by but soon the boy stands,
He reaches out to me with blood-covered hands.
With help from the Elders he honors me that day,
For saving him from death where he lay,
An eagle’s feather is put into my mane,
The greatest honor one can gain.
Three beads hold it in its place,
Black for looking death in the face,
Red for the courage that I showed,
And green for the life debt that is owed.
“You are now free go as you please.”
His words came out with ease,
With a pat on my neck he motioned with his hand,
That I could go and be free of this land.
My freedom was won because of a war,
But I found that my heart was tore,
I wanted to run and be free like all the others,
And join a herd with my brothers.
But instead I stayed to live near the village,
And watch the boy grow in age,
For I will protect this soon to be man,
For no other reasons than I know I can.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 04, 2010 4:27 pm
I'M A WARPONY! 8D
Pony's Name: Vetharus
Owner's Name: IMoonDancer
Poem/Epic:
If you seek the light of day,
Away from him you'd best to stray.
He is the night itself you see
The pitchest black destiney,
Of war and death he brings it all.
The pikemen in front, sure to fall.
He charged further into the rank,
Around dead men, faces blank.
Between the feet of war he seeks,
A camp of tents with wollen peaks.
They left the camp empty for war,
Beliving no one would reach the door.
Woe to them, they thought quite wrong,
A warrior made it through the throng.
His eyes they flashed an icy blue,
That peirced the tents through and through.
A gaze that stung most men with frost,
Had found the girl that they thought lost.
Rushing to the rope that held,
He knawed upon until it was felled.
The girl was free but now to leave,
They had to wait until the eve,
In which his coat would never show,
Against the bloodied ice and snow.
Darkness fell and the men subsided,
The battle zone still divided.
It was time for them to run,
Before the light of a new sun.
He roused her from dreaming sleep,
And made he sit upon like a heap.
This was it the great disguise,
To keep her secret from prying eyes.
The men they thought nothing of him,
As he walked out lazy and dim.
This pony, he carried a pile of clothes,
A working horse, they had tons of those.
Suspiscion of him was never aroused,
Until they looked where she'd been housed.
The enemy camp looked all around,
The captured girl could not be found.
And when they thought of him they feared.
That he was long gone and disappeared.
Well they were right and he was home.
And the girl he saved was on the throne.
Your Majesty you'd call her now,
Before her you are told to bow.
And the pony his name was given glory,
The bards they came to write his story.
And now you hear this pony's tale,
Of how even the smallest warrior can prevail.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
