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Post by Vita on Apr 30, 2011 15:38:38 GMT -6
Whiteface Stormwithers:
The sun was setting, falling behind the snow-capped mountains and lighting the sky up with warm colours. The only sound was the steady two beat gait on the hard earth and the rhythmic breathing of a brute who had been travelling for quite some time. He finally found it, the perfect terra to call his own. The emerald grass was rich with nutrition, the mountains provided protection and glacier run off would mean a good water supply in the hot months. The mousy coloured stallion was young and naïve having just been kicked out of his herd. He was confident, or ignorant, that he would have a herd of his own in no time with many beautiful mares to breed with just like his sire. As the day slowly came to an end so did his search and fatigue finally overcame the stud. With his nostrils to the ground he searched his new lands for the scent of a rival or predators that might be in the area before resting. He would seek out mares come sunrise. Whiteface Stormwithers claimed these grounds.
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