-raise- your {{G L A S S E S}} +high+

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

[best to be me]

They call me;; Eitre. You love finding things out, don't you?
I've been around for;; six years. Been here longer? Good for you! Want a cookie?
I am a;; stallion. Thank you captain obvious!
My blood is tainted as;; a Quarter Horse. Are you too? Goodie. Lets make a club.
I stand at;; sixteen hands. Are you taller? Haha, how about another cookie?
I'm colored;; palomino. Throw you off? Good.
I have;; stockings and dapples. So cute.
You whispered in my ear;; Arrowhorse.

A look at my past, you say;; Six years is a long time to live. You'd expect something exciting, interesting and something that would catch your interest. How very wrong you are. I can tell you, I'm not your typical wild stallion. I could also tell you I'm expertly trained. Both very true. Why, you ask? Let's see.

I was raised by humans on a stud ranch, used for racing and breeding because they loved my dappled palomino coat. However, my tempermant was not desired in my foals. I was in a high-security barn, always someone had a watch on me, and ten thousand electric volts ran around my paddock. My stall was built of cement, and after I bred a mare, they had to get her out quick, or I'd kill her. Ah, my stall, that was cleaned when I was out in the paddock.

How did I get to the paddock without murdering the stable hands? Well, after ten or so fatal injuries and about six deaths, they built the paddock connecting into the barn. Every day at six in the morning, my door would unlock and I'd burst through, galloping into the paddock, and as soon as my feet touched the grass, the barn door slammed shut with a thick wall of cement. Ah, they thought they were safe...

The stable owners daughter didn't believe I was dangerous. Everyday at ten in the morning, she'd come out and sit by my fence and read. I acted interested, like I liked her. I'd lick her hand and let her pat me. Then she opened my gate and came in, forgeting to close it. I killed the little girl, and galloped freely out, where I am today. And that's why a rope halter is still on my face.

You don't know my type;; You didn't realize my temperment from my history? Well, I'm shocked. I can be sarcastic and bitter, I can be your worst nightmare. What I can't be is your best friend, your ally, your lover or your friend. I'm not sweet, I'm not charming, I'm not caring. I'm devilish. And only another like me could ever create an existence with me. I'll kill the first chance I get, I'll fight to the death. Still want to take me on? Have fun.

[i!shadow!i]

Accepted