Post by Swede on Sept 14, 2009 19:26:45 GMT -5
Name: Glacier
Age: 8 years
Breed: Gypsy Vanner
Height: 15.1 hh
Colour: white
Eye Colour: brown
Gender: stallion
Markings: Black forelock and tail
History: Like most of his kind, Glacier was born among humans. To be quite specific, his parents were pureblooded Vanners who lived on a decent stud farm, where champions like those of his +own lines were produced. Once he was old enough to be ridden and driven, he began showing. At first, the sights and smells of the show ring were new enough and frightening enough for the young stallion to be interesting. But within a year, he grew tired of this career. The frustration of being surrounded by leather straps, the choking sensation of a bit in his mouth, the stiff shafts at his sides- Glacier had had enough. One day, his temper snapped, and he went on a rampage in the show ring, completely trashing his tack and injuring a couple of people. Many wanted him put down and considered him dangerous, but he was quite valuable in the breeding shed due to his pedigree and looks. Understandably, he was rather happier among the few mares that people dared send to him, but the itch still nagged in his mind. He had to get out, away from these walls, these fences, out into the open wild, with nothing to close him in. In the autumn of his fifth year, he broke out, stealing a mare with him as well. She allowed herself to be bred but flatout refused to follow him away from the stables. He tried to convince her with nips and kicks, but soon the humans became aware of what was happening, and he left the mare in disgust, sprinting out into his so desperately longed-for freedom.
It took him a short time to become accustomed to the ways of the wild, but he learned quickly. However, to his great disappointment, the majority of the wild mares were all mustangs or similar: scrawny, hideous things in his mind, and though he occasionally sank low enough to torture one of them for a while, his contempt usually kept him away. Glacier's old, ceaseless frustrations resurfaced, and he quelled them by beating up local stallions. For three years he has wandered, in growing irritation, craving the company of those like himself, mares like himself. At this point he no longer bothers letting his female victims live, killing them once they lose their entertainment value. For now, it is enough to give a small hint of satisfaction; but the itch in his brain grows, but here in the wild there is nothing to break out from, no more freedom to gain. Perhaps if the nameless and causeless frustration continues, he will go insane at last.
Age: 8 years
Breed: Gypsy Vanner
Height: 15.1 hh
Colour: white
Eye Colour: brown
Gender: stallion
Markings: Black forelock and tail
History: Like most of his kind, Glacier was born among humans. To be quite specific, his parents were pureblooded Vanners who lived on a decent stud farm, where champions like those of his +own lines were produced. Once he was old enough to be ridden and driven, he began showing. At first, the sights and smells of the show ring were new enough and frightening enough for the young stallion to be interesting. But within a year, he grew tired of this career. The frustration of being surrounded by leather straps, the choking sensation of a bit in his mouth, the stiff shafts at his sides- Glacier had had enough. One day, his temper snapped, and he went on a rampage in the show ring, completely trashing his tack and injuring a couple of people. Many wanted him put down and considered him dangerous, but he was quite valuable in the breeding shed due to his pedigree and looks. Understandably, he was rather happier among the few mares that people dared send to him, but the itch still nagged in his mind. He had to get out, away from these walls, these fences, out into the open wild, with nothing to close him in. In the autumn of his fifth year, he broke out, stealing a mare with him as well. She allowed herself to be bred but flatout refused to follow him away from the stables. He tried to convince her with nips and kicks, but soon the humans became aware of what was happening, and he left the mare in disgust, sprinting out into his so desperately longed-for freedom.
It took him a short time to become accustomed to the ways of the wild, but he learned quickly. However, to his great disappointment, the majority of the wild mares were all mustangs or similar: scrawny, hideous things in his mind, and though he occasionally sank low enough to torture one of them for a while, his contempt usually kept him away. Glacier's old, ceaseless frustrations resurfaced, and he quelled them by beating up local stallions. For three years he has wandered, in growing irritation, craving the company of those like himself, mares like himself. At this point he no longer bothers letting his female victims live, killing them once they lose their entertainment value. For now, it is enough to give a small hint of satisfaction; but the itch in his brain grows, but here in the wild there is nothing to break out from, no more freedom to gain. Perhaps if the nameless and causeless frustration continues, he will go insane at last.
