Post by racechick on Jan 12, 2013 15:42:28 GMT -5
Name: Leo's Scar
Age: 12 yrs
Breed: American Paint Horse
Height: 16hh
Color: Dark Crimson Chestnut
Markings: Stripe; three white socks
Personality: Nefarious, vindictive, merciless, dogmatic. What can I say... I love to torture, I love to see the pleading in their eyes, if only I'd stop, maybe show them some generosity, perhaps I'll indulge them for a moment; only to revoke the trust and inspect the newly manifested level of fear as I pierce your flesh or rape your daughter. I'm a sadist... And a little bit of a masochistic, it makes the beating or killing that much more thrilling.
History:
I was the first born son of Aalis and Leo; my sire a drab colored brown with dingy ebony tassels with a white blemish on his right side, and Aalis oh dear Aalis, the things I would've done to her had she out lived my b@stard father, was gorgeously golden like the sun and smothered in snowy illumination along her top line and down her perfect columns. Even the memories of her arouse me, I'm a sick pony.*satisfied evil grin on Scar's face as he speaks* Anywho, back to the story. I was prized through out the land, all the mares would gawk at me when I'd walk by, all the foals respected me, and mom and pop they let me do whatever I wanted; so long as I was home by nightfall, which only happened rarely, though I only remember being scolded for my tardyness. I roamed the land, learning every nook and cranny in the terra, plus some around that. I ran into colts and fillies one day, a huge herd of them, and I offered them a deal; I wouldn't be able to give them anything now but their prize would come soon. Remembering just what I had said, "I am Leo's Scar, son of Leo birthed by Aalis, leaders of this land; you seem to be a mixed bunch of horses. I may have an offer that would please us all. I return to my father's land, which one day I will either leave or become heir to, with all the fillies; they will grow to be the mares of my herd. You colts, who look as though you will grow into fine stallions, will continue to skirt these lands, keeping out predators and intruders; when the day comes I will than I take over and or leave, your prizes will be received then." A wicked smirk on my faces, none of these equines older than I, they would be easily molded and manipulated. The fillies returned with me, pleasing my father, but he wondered how I'd gotten them; I never told him of my pledge to the brutes that lingered around the land.
I was given control of the land sooner than I had imagined, my mother past, Lillie had returned and was speaking with our sire when he bellowed for me. "Scar, you know you are heir to this land when I pass. I want you to begin preparing to take over, for I don't have long." I nodded and thanked him for the opportunity to lead such a successful herd, little did he know I had plans of my own for this place. A week later the weak, rustic brute died, leaving the land, the mares, and all the hell raising up to me. A cloud of depression settled over the land, the mares saddened by the lose of their previous king, I allowed it for a few days; but something snapped when all they did was mope around adn it wasn't caused by me. I began forcing all the mares, letting out a war cry which I had established with the now hefty stallions that trolled the land. I'd trained them, in fighting, stamina, and endurance, making them as beefy and muscular as I was; though none dared to even attempt to take me on in a fight. Bulls swarmed the land, each grabbing a mare, only a few left scampering about; those were for me. I galloped after one, quickly planting my seed before moving onto the next, no fear of them escaping as still more stags protected the exits.
Lillie screamed for me to stop, stallions holding her back as I approached, "You think I was going to exclude you? You jealous sis? You want some of this?" I bred my sister with pleasure, like I said before I'm a sick pony, then informed the others they could have her when I finished. Winter came quickly, the grasses lay dead, blood caking the grounds, a chilled wind whipping throughout the land. Lillie looked beated and tired as I trotted toward her, stallions still restraining her while one sowed his seed; dismounting as I appraoched. "Good work men, now if you don't mind I'm going to get back to that." I moved quickly, circling her a attempting to mount, but she fought hard. She kicked out, missing me the first time, I reared high grinning and chuckling; trying to get my weight on her back. The b*tch kicked out nailing me in the mouth, the coppery taste of blood assualting my tongue, "Take her." The brutes mauled her, tearing apart her neck and columns, dropping her to the ground; knees on her ribs and boa. Molars tore into the flesh on her cheek, "Stupid idea sis, I could easily have them kill you. Ha. You boys rotate with the others, let them have some fun too." I left her there on the ground, the bachelors moving off in different directions to relieve the others on the outskirts.
The blood shed had limited the growth during the spring and summer, years past, mares dropping foals, the bachelors and I killing the weak colts and keeping the strong ones to continue the lineages to rape and pillage surrounding herds; keeping every filly that hit the ground. Lillie foaled one day in the late summer, I'd straved her most of that summer, trying to feed the mares that I hoped would produce the best foals for my mob; needless to say, Lillie foaled a stillborn. "It's your fault she's dead Lillie. How could you let your own baby die of malnutrition? What a horrible mother you are." It was great to see the guilt riddle her orbs, though she'd learned to control the tears since she'd been here for sometime now. Lillie escaped one day, the bachelors gaining more and more power as they scoured the surrounding terras for more mares and colts to corrupt, I stood tall atop my crest; watching the colts I and the others had made work hard in the cooling heat. It was time that I moved on, to bigger and better things, to grow another herd just like this one else where. Calling a meeting with the stallions that night I explained to them my resignation, "Brutes, I am leaving, possibly for good. I wish to appoint a new leader for my leave of absence. Tomorrow there will be duels, to determine who takes my place as leader. Prepare yourselves, it will be a day full of blood and battles." The fights took two days to complete, the stags scarred, bruised, and bloody but only one stood alone; we called him Lakota. He was short, stocky, and rigid with muscle, he was quiet but a born leader; I left knowing that worse would come of what I had started, a smile plastering my face as I moved on.
