Post by Swede on Mar 21, 2009 19:42:45 GMT -5
Name: Titania
Age: 5 years
Breed: Arabian
Height: 15.3 hh
Colour: Flaxen-maned chestnut sabino
Eye Colour: Mahogany brown
Gender: Mare
Markings: Blaze, stockings, sabino markings
History:
Titania was born in the deserts of Arabia, daughter of a champion racehorse and his mare, a beautiful thing, like a delicate rose among feral dandelions; of the purest lines, with a thousand-year-old heritage, and noble blood. She grew up strong and proud, sprinting over the dunes, laughing and playing with the other foals. However, her days as Princess of the sands would not last forever. One blustery afternoon, she was bought by a wealthy sheikh, who sent her as a gift to his European friend and colleague. The European had a son, an up and coming rider, who was looking for the perfect horse to take him to the top. Titania was two years old, when she first met the boy, and a rather high-strung filly, but he was gentle and calming, with an expert hand.
The pair quickly bonded, and he started riding her when she turned three. The intelligent mare learned quickly, and they were soon ready to begin competing. Though Arabians were an uncommon sight in the dressage ring, she had the style and grace to make up for the breed’s lesser dressage capabilities. Jumping was next on the program, and she took to this like a duck to water, tackling higher and higher fences. Her boy brought her to first a national, then continental futurity, and the dynamic duo impressed everyone who saw them.
In this show world, Titania sometimes felt degraded. In Arabia, she had been a goddess, nobility; an Arab owner would have allowed her to stay in his tent rather than face the harsh night outdoors, or perhaps she would have been sold into the sultan’s royal stables. Here, she was just another horse, getting no respect from the poorly bred fellows she competed against, those who were hardly better than carthorses. But as she climbed the ranks, she met equines of a higher order, those with the more refined bloodlines of Europe, and in the presence of her equals she flourished. These others understood manners, elegance; they were civilized, they had class.
Coming into her fourth year, her owner, a young man now, moved away from his parents to America, bringing Titania with him. It was a bit of a culture shock for the mare, at first; life was completely different here. She adjusted, though, after a while. There were still competitions, and she was entering the elite echelons of the showring. Titania and her boy sometimes lost, but they often won. And she still loved him as much as ever; they understood each other.
However, others became envious of their success; certain arch-enemies longed to see Titania wiped off the map forever. If the horse was gone, the rider could not ride, and he would not be in the way anymore. Titania had to go.
Unfortunately, disposing of a horse body was not the easiest. Nor did the mare trust these foreigners enough for them to be able to get near her. So, when the trailer pulled into the drive one overcast evening while her boy was away, it was not to transport a dead mare, but a live one. They chased her into the truck, smacking her velveteen flanks with whips, and tied her uncomfortably so she wouldn’t move about in the cramped trailer. For twenty-four hours, the thieves drove, stopping only to trade off behind the steering wheel, not bothering to give Titania a chance to stretch her legs, have a bite to eat, or even drink some water. It was quite an exhausted princess that was dropped off in the middle of the hills, miles away from home, with no idea of how to get back.
For days, she wandered, following the ridgeline, losing hope of ever finding her boy again. Wild horses passed her by, rough Mustangs and the like, horses that frightened her, horses she scorned for their unrefined brutality. Gradually, the hills turned to mountains, growing taller and more cragged, and had it not been for her Arab stamina she would have sought the lowlands. But in the mountains, she could gaze down upon the world, and her heart would lift, her good old self returning; proud, noble Titania, accepting this fate and moving on to make the best of it. One thing is for sure- she is not afraid to do what it takes to get what she wants, and she doesn’t take crap from anybody, traits that have proved useful in this tangled wilderness.
