|
|
Post by BRACKEN on Jul 20, 2011 16:26:49 GMT -5
"He's a psycho! Look at him, he can't keep a friend for his life," Jeers and jaunts, name-calling and provoking old wounds to open had forced Psycho out of his multiple bachelor herds, forcing him to take refuge as a wanderer. That was where the idea of creating his own herd had popped into his head. Crazy, right? His real name was long forgotten, replaced with 'Psycho.', thanks to his ever changing personality around different horses. The black Friesian knew he was different, knew that he wouldn't fit in unless he started his own herd. The thought scared him, being in control of so many and having so much to do. What would his herd think of him if he wasn't as great as they thought he would be? What if he didn't get a proper herd, and he was left to fend on his own? Too many questions, Psycho.
Although, they were all legitimate questions, and many a stallion had them when they were going out on their own to start their own herds... didn't they? Then again, this black horse wasn't made from the same cookie cutter as the rest of them; he was different, in that sad sort of way. Psycho trotted carefully up the steep hill that was the climb to the gorge. After filling his belly with water and a few munches of grass, he was ready to get what he sought after for the longest time. A herd. His heavy hooves crushed foliage under him as he continued on his way, pulling his massive body up the hill. The smell of others roaming through these parts made Psycho snort, shaking his head as his black tresses fell over his equally dark eyes. He didn't really like other equines, but he knew that if he wanted to survive and populate the area properly, he'd have to get along with whomever he could.
Again, the anxiety of not getting the job done worried Psycho. This would be the first time he'd ever attempt to get his own herd going... did he even have the blood of any sort of leader running through him? He knew he had the traits.. didn't he? The scent of others faded slowly and soon, Psycho had reached a spot where all other traces of equines have disappeared. This was it, this was his moment. A happy jolt seemed to race through him and his heavy dark hooves picked up speed as he cantered towards his future herd land. He was excited, nervous, and finally relieved that his life would start to come together. Psycho whinnied out, ears alert and his whinny echoed around the empty land and returned to him.
This was his land. Psycho backed up and felt the earth tremble with his powerful hoof falls, and he looked over his shoulder at the path that led to the gorge. This was dangerous territory, but he knew he could lead a path away from the gorge to keep his future foals save. They would be the future of his herd. No time for anxieties now, he had to get this finished and finish it properly. One loud neigh ringed across the sky, allowing any and every equine now within his land to know that he, Psycho, was king of these lands. He would never bow to anyone, and he would not allow a challenge to ruin his reign.
He was home.
Land will be called 'Psycho's Drop', since it borders the Gorge.
Description: Young herd, young land. Psycho is lead stallion with a lot on his plate, he has to take extra care of his herd because of how close they all are to death if one takes a wrong move. There isn't a lot of grazing space but thankfully they are within walking distance of the clearing meadow.
|
|
