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Post by Minas Tirith on Jun 22, 2007 20:10:57 GMT -5
Tirith had just returned from claiming his own land and the night was getting cold. The excess water on his coat did not help at all either. Frost was settling and his black hooves hit the ground lightly with a small thud. His beautiful body in full form and his head held high and proud. His eyes searched the land for any untold dangers or allies. he had been caught off guard before by wolves and such. He was not going to make those mistakes now.
The moon shone from behind the trees as Tirith set forth at a swift canter toward Hermes' Valley. He had a home of his own, and now he was looking for a herd. Any mare would be welcome but stallions would only be permitted homage for a short time while they found their own land. Tirith was not the kind to take any risks in the area of a herd.
A swift, cold breeze blew past and sent his mane and tail billowing in the wind. He looked strangely enchanted in the night and his thick blaze stood out like a beacon. he looked around at the area and stopped, waiting for any sound or smell of another horse.
The wind stopped and Tirith walked over to a small stream in the trees. He bent his head down to drink from the cool water. The frost was starting to get to him but, luckily, his black coat was keeping him warmer than he would be.
Tirith brought his head back up from the water and went to stand underneath a tree and wait for a horse to approach this area of Hermes' Valley. [/color]
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Xeoa
Herd Member
Posts: 21
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Post by Xeoa on Jul 4, 2007 20:46:47 GMT -5
Hermes' Valley. A valley of potential and rebirth, at least for herd leaders. To Eveldar, it was just a dip in the already rutted earth of Amphora. The streamlined Morganhorse examined the mouth of the valley, cautious, but ready for anything. The ebony stallion pawed at the soft ground with his sturdy hooves, contemplating. What Eveldar was contemplating, he didn't exactly want to think about. His conjectures were inturrupted by another stallion, not really striking, but it wasn't the stag's facade that caught Eveldar's eye. The new stallion held his presence in such a way that he need not make a motion to be noticed. The charcoal Morgan became interested, and flurries of questions hovered in his brain. Who is this stallion? What does he want? Why is he here? Of course Eveldar knew that this horse wanted a herd, but kind of herd? What kind of horse is this stallion? He shook his head. This horse was the old Eveldar, the one with his father and Hell's whip at his back. The new Eveldar was strong, reliable, and never second-guessed. Gulping down his past self, the Morgan crossed the valley to the olive tree grove. ((OOC||By the way, did you mean for it to be winter in your post? If you check the Amphora forecast at the top of the page, it says the season is spring. I'm not being rude, I just want you to know because some rules of Amphora involve what season it is!!!! ||))
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Post by Minas Tirith on Jul 14, 2007 20:09:39 GMT -5
((ooc- If you lived where I do then you would know that if it gets cold enough after some rain, then you can get frost. It is still spring, but a frost has just fallen int he morning light. Also, the wind can sometimes help to cause a frost. No offense meant. )
Minas Tirith looked around sharply when the scent of another horse reached his muzzle. He turned his elegant head in the direction from which it came. Stepping out into the open, Tirith saw another stallion approaching. He snorted but did not let out any challenge, nor did he back away. Shaking his black coat, he stepped toward this strange stallion. From his build, Tirith could guess that he was a Morgan horse. Much different from his own build. He was a Thoroughbred horse. His parents had been owned, but had broken out to live in the wilds. None of that showed in Tirith. He had a wild heart and soul. Breaking into a brisk trot, he went up to the stallion. "Hello, my name is Minas Tirith. What is your calling?" He whinnied over to the horse, more in friendship than loneliness. He was looking for a herd, but he sought friendship moreover. This stallion looked like the type he could talk to as an old friend. He stood silently awaiting the Morgan's answer.
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Xeoa
Herd Member
Posts: 21
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Post by Xeoa on Jul 17, 2007 20:49:24 GMT -5
((OOC||None taken. I just live where it rarely frosts in the winter, not to mention the spring. I'm pretty tired now, so I'll write my response later. ||))
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Post by Minas Tirith on Jul 20, 2007 6:20:49 GMT -5
((ooc- Kool )
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