Post by Sacoorah on Nov 18, 2014 0:51:30 GMT
Picture: www.deviantart.com/art/Buckskin-In-Play-Mode-332092781
Name: Mornhavon
Breed: American Paint x Thoroughbred x Oldenburg x Tennessee Walking Horse
Age: 8.5 Years
Gender: Stallion
Alliance: Light
Pelt Color: Buckskin Tobiano
Mane and Tail colour: Mane: Black; Tail: Top White bottom Black
Eye Color: Pale Amber
Markings: Two Socks (Front limbs), Two Stockings (Hind limbs), and A White Star
Height: 17.1 Hands
Personality: Mornhavon is nearly the epitome of a nearly perfect gentleman. He's soft spoken, gentle, kind, caring, loyal, protective (particularly over his daughter Moonacre and her colt Fastion), he's playful, and trustworthy. Mornhavon is all about making friendships and any other kinds of relationships as long lasting as possible. Though he's eight and a half years old, you would never guess it as he looks young and he's always out in the herdlands and freelands, racing and chasing and playing with the youngsters, his favorite playmate has to be Fastion. Mornhavon is the farthest from a physical fighter as possible, he prefers to try and talk issues out before resorting to attack and physical harm. He's raised his four children to have similar ideas to his own and three of the four have drifted down opposite paths and Mornhavon has lost all contact with them. Moonacre has managed to keep a similar line of thought to her sire's but she also has a bit more of the violence in her. Mornhavon is a bit of a lone stallion as his heart has been torn apart far too many times, so he takes a much longer time to open his heart to love again, afraid to have his heart torn apart yet again. He likes the weather of the Spring time and the Autumn, the thunderstorms, the comfortable temperatures, in Autumn the changing leaves and the sweet earthy scents. He's often found gazing at a storm from underneath some overhang or other shelter. He wants to love again but it will take the right girl and a multitude of trust and respect. Give it a try if you want.
History: It was late Spring when the queen of the herd had met her fate, it was time for her and her king's child to meet the world. Slipping away under cover of moonlight the Buckskin Tobiano queen loped toward the spot in the Beech tree grove that she had scouted out a couple of weeks before she felt the foal drop. She was in no major hurry as she still had a few hours before the foal was going to meet the soft grass of his new bedroom. The sounds of hoofbeats behind her alerted the American Paint, Thoroughbred cross to the approach of her bay dyed Oldenburg, Tennessee Walking Horse cross mate. Slowing down a little she let him step up beside her. "Is it time amour?" The mare dipped her dial in the affirmative and smiled at the stallion as they entered the grove and the mare lay down on the soft grass.
The stallion took up point on the edge of the grove so that he could keep an eye out and an eye on his mate. Smiling again the mare felt the beginnings of the process and gave herself over to the gift of new life. A short while later, a tiny sound alerted the mare again, the process was over. Rolling up onto her stomach the queen smiled as she looked back at the still damp foal. Hastening to her hooves, the mare quickly faced the little foal and started to clean it up. As she cleaned it things became clear to her. They had produced a colt, an heir to the kingdom, and he shared her colouration and her patterning, but he had his sire's eyes, the beautiful pale amber that they were. Whinnying to her mate, she invited him over to meet their new prince, "Come meet our son mi amour."
The bay stallion turned and faced his mate and then watched the colt as he struggled to his hooves, wobbled and fell a couple of times before reaching his mother's milk and nursing as she continued to lick at the colt's fluffy baby coat until he was perfectly dry. When the colt had taken his fill of his dam's milk, he made a soft squeak and then his pale amber eyes swung around and met the gaze of his sire. Then he smiled at his sire and then he found his voice and whinnied to his sire and moved to greet him. The king and queen looked to one another and then at the prince. Then, as the sun began to rise on the new dawn, the royal family returned to their kingdom. As he aged, the colt had the life any foal would want. It was easy, playful, he learned the ways of his family and made many a friend. He had many a few princesses courting him.
He had many friendships and relationships and many of those princesses went along until they decided he wasn't worth it anymore and left. When he turned one, Mornhavon had lost his sire to murder, at two, his dam died of a broken heart and then when Mornhavon took over the kingdom, he fell in love with a pretty bay frame mare, not of the royal family's breeding, when he was two and a half years old, he sired a filly from this mare, a pretty bay frame, that was born in an acre of grass under the moonlight of a summer evening, then the mare took off, taking the filly with her, the young stallion's heart was broken. He struck out on his own then, handing the kingdom over to his young brother. He had many small herds and many small flings with a few foals but he deserted them and now he is here to start all over new, his daughter at his side with her colt.
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Name: Mornhavon
Breed: American Paint x Thoroughbred x Oldenburg x Tennessee Walking Horse
Age: 8.5 Years
Gender: Stallion
Alliance: Light
Pelt Color: Buckskin Tobiano
Mane and Tail colour: Mane: Black; Tail: Top White bottom Black
Eye Color: Pale Amber
Markings: Two Socks (Front limbs), Two Stockings (Hind limbs), and A White Star
Height: 17.1 Hands
Personality: Mornhavon is nearly the epitome of a nearly perfect gentleman. He's soft spoken, gentle, kind, caring, loyal, protective (particularly over his daughter Moonacre and her colt Fastion), he's playful, and trustworthy. Mornhavon is all about making friendships and any other kinds of relationships as long lasting as possible. Though he's eight and a half years old, you would never guess it as he looks young and he's always out in the herdlands and freelands, racing and chasing and playing with the youngsters, his favorite playmate has to be Fastion. Mornhavon is the farthest from a physical fighter as possible, he prefers to try and talk issues out before resorting to attack and physical harm. He's raised his four children to have similar ideas to his own and three of the four have drifted down opposite paths and Mornhavon has lost all contact with them. Moonacre has managed to keep a similar line of thought to her sire's but she also has a bit more of the violence in her. Mornhavon is a bit of a lone stallion as his heart has been torn apart far too many times, so he takes a much longer time to open his heart to love again, afraid to have his heart torn apart yet again. He likes the weather of the Spring time and the Autumn, the thunderstorms, the comfortable temperatures, in Autumn the changing leaves and the sweet earthy scents. He's often found gazing at a storm from underneath some overhang or other shelter. He wants to love again but it will take the right girl and a multitude of trust and respect. Give it a try if you want.
History: It was late Spring when the queen of the herd had met her fate, it was time for her and her king's child to meet the world. Slipping away under cover of moonlight the Buckskin Tobiano queen loped toward the spot in the Beech tree grove that she had scouted out a couple of weeks before she felt the foal drop. She was in no major hurry as she still had a few hours before the foal was going to meet the soft grass of his new bedroom. The sounds of hoofbeats behind her alerted the American Paint, Thoroughbred cross to the approach of her bay dyed Oldenburg, Tennessee Walking Horse cross mate. Slowing down a little she let him step up beside her. "Is it time amour?" The mare dipped her dial in the affirmative and smiled at the stallion as they entered the grove and the mare lay down on the soft grass.
The stallion took up point on the edge of the grove so that he could keep an eye out and an eye on his mate. Smiling again the mare felt the beginnings of the process and gave herself over to the gift of new life. A short while later, a tiny sound alerted the mare again, the process was over. Rolling up onto her stomach the queen smiled as she looked back at the still damp foal. Hastening to her hooves, the mare quickly faced the little foal and started to clean it up. As she cleaned it things became clear to her. They had produced a colt, an heir to the kingdom, and he shared her colouration and her patterning, but he had his sire's eyes, the beautiful pale amber that they were. Whinnying to her mate, she invited him over to meet their new prince, "Come meet our son mi amour."
The bay stallion turned and faced his mate and then watched the colt as he struggled to his hooves, wobbled and fell a couple of times before reaching his mother's milk and nursing as she continued to lick at the colt's fluffy baby coat until he was perfectly dry. When the colt had taken his fill of his dam's milk, he made a soft squeak and then his pale amber eyes swung around and met the gaze of his sire. Then he smiled at his sire and then he found his voice and whinnied to his sire and moved to greet him. The king and queen looked to one another and then at the prince. Then, as the sun began to rise on the new dawn, the royal family returned to their kingdom. As he aged, the colt had the life any foal would want. It was easy, playful, he learned the ways of his family and made many a friend. He had many a few princesses courting him.
He had many friendships and relationships and many of those princesses went along until they decided he wasn't worth it anymore and left. When he turned one, Mornhavon had lost his sire to murder, at two, his dam died of a broken heart and then when Mornhavon took over the kingdom, he fell in love with a pretty bay frame mare, not of the royal family's breeding, when he was two and a half years old, he sired a filly from this mare, a pretty bay frame, that was born in an acre of grass under the moonlight of a summer evening, then the mare took off, taking the filly with her, the young stallion's heart was broken. He struck out on his own then, handing the kingdom over to his young brother. He had many small herds and many small flings with a few foals but he deserted them and now he is here to start all over new, his daughter at his side with her colt.
Feedback on Rules? Optional. We're always looking for ways to improve!
Where did you find us? Optional. We just like to know.
