King's Castle
Oct 4, 2010 22:14:01 GMT -5
Post by renegadesgirl on Oct 4, 2010 22:14:01 GMT -5
Name: King's Castle (Castle)
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age: 5 Years
Gender: Stallion
Height: 16 Hands
Color: Red Chestnut
Markings: Big white blaze and a white stocking on right hind leg.
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Personality: He can act haughty sometimes. Although he can be protective and gentle. His sides mix into a whole different world. Can you take him all in?
History:
"Castle, my son," began a dark bay stallion, "you must learn the ways of the race horses."
"But where will I begin? I am to young to take so much in!" The little colt, newly named Castle interjected once again.
The older stallion stomped his hoof in aggravation, "Castle! Stop! Just listen to me and your mother. And your trainers will tell you everything else."
Castle flicked his ears forward and nodded before his gaze followed a trainer entering the pasture. He held a magnificent halter in his hand. It was made of fine leather, the buckles golden and polished as usual. On the side, "Sir Vector Castle", engraved perfectly into it. Castle looked towards his father, who strained his neck forward, just itching to get inside and to begin getting groomed for the upcoming race. Castle reached his muzzle towards his father, but he simply ignored the colt and let the trainer lead him through the shiny gates. He sighed and flicked his short tail, looking hopeful that maybe his mother would be returned to the pasture soon...
The next day Castle awoke in his stall, warm and comforted by his mother curled up behind him on the ground. He got up and stretched his legs, and looked through the tiny whole of the stalls side; where his father stayed. He peered in and looked around, but there was no sight of his strong, noble father. No fresh hay, grain, or shavings had been layed on the ground.
Castle nosed his mother awake, her eyes looked stressed and pained with grief.
"Mother," began the tiny Castle, "where is father? Did they move his stall?"
"Oh, my sweet little Castle..." began the pretty chestnut mare, "he fell...during his race...I'm afraid that father has been moved to the heavens..."
"The heavens? Father says those are myths," said Castle frantically as he put his head down, "are you sure he isn't in the pasture? He said he'd teach me the ways of the race horse! So I could become a great champion! He said so..."
Castles mother nuzzled him sweetly, and shut her eyes with sorrow. No answer could escape her lips...
Castle picked up his hooves and stepped anxiously in the gates. The jockey's whip held near his flank. The red chestnuts coat glowed with pride, but his personality faltered almost every second. He anxiously awaited for the gates to sling open. He'd trained for this day ever since he was a colt. He'd told his dad he couldn't do it, but he was.
The gun shot, the gates opened, and the horses sprang forward instantly. There hooves pounded against the hard dirt, and once horse had shot into the front instantly. The announcer began calling names and numbers, and in first, "Kings Castle". His heart raced, and he didn't grow tired, in fact, he sped up, adrenaline pumping through his body. Sweat coated his body, turning the red into a blood bay.
He practically jumped the finish line, but he didn't slow to his jockeys command. Before he knew it, he'd bucked the jockey from his saddle, and he'd jumped the railing of the track. He would have been a champion, if he'd stayed. The flowers on his back, the picture with the trophy, everything his father had and wanted him to have...but he didn't want it anymore. He wanted freedom from stress, wanted to get away from everything. He had no family left, after all.
After a week of wandering and endless grazing, his saddle had unclasped and fallen, and his bit had snagged and ripped the leather, letting him shake his head so the bride would fall. He looked wild, not being groomed, and he'd stumbled upon a crystal river. The sun seemed to be endlessly shining upon it...Sunshine River.