Post by ~|Nevvy|~ on Jan 3, 2011 20:49:43 GMT -5
Razzle My Dazzle
the basics
Show Name: Razzle My Dazzle
Nickname: Razz
Breed: Pintabian
Coat: Black and White Tobiano
Markings: Blaze and two socks on the right legs
Eyes: Amber
Age: 5 Years
Sex: Mare
Height: 15.2 hh
Formalities
Apperance: Razzle My Dazzle is a black and white tobiano Pintabian mare. Her petite head is all black except for the blaze that goes down from her forehead to her nose. Her eyes are almost a pure amber and show the fun and sweetness that is in her soul. Her neck is black on the upper half and changes to white by the time the neck ends. Her mane and tail are both black and white. Her body is black and white. Her right legs have socks but the rest of the leg is black.
Personality: Razz is all spunk and spitfire. She loves to give anyone a ride for their life. She loves to race, but she sometimes spooks easily. She takes a light hand only and does not put up with heavy hands and kicking anymore. She is very gentle with children, but sometimes that cannot be said about adults. She loves to be the center of attention. In the pasture, she is a filly at heart. Sometimes on the trails she is too, depending on her rider. She sometimes finds it difficult to trust some humans, and can be a one-person horse.
Society
Likes: Attention
Racing
Foals and Children
Sarcasm
Playing
Dislikes: Whips
Proud and Haughty Stallions
Domineering personalities
Physical Abuse
Racing
Foals and Children
Sarcasm
Playing
Dislikes: Whips
Proud and Haughty Stallions
Domineering personalities
Physical Abuse
History: Ah, it was all fun and play, way back when. When I was just a teeny tiny mite on the face of the Earth, chomping down on anything and everything in my wake. The grass, the boards, a horse's tail. Those were the days. Unfortunately, I had to grow up. I didn't want to do this. Adults were boring. All they do is sleep and graze, sleep and graze, and of course yell at us kids. And, if I grew up, I had to be taken away from my mother. Now, I know it is every filly's dream to get away from home. But I loved my mother. I didn't want to go away. But I had to. And soon enough, I had friends! But the thousands, as far as the eye can see! Okay, that may be a little exaggeration, but not much. And then those were the years. But then, I had to grow up some more (by now I was SO tall), and my owners, they took me away from my home...
At this place, I was being trained. I was now three years old, and on my way to being a show mare. But this trainer, I did not like him. His face, there were scars. His eyes were hard and like cold steel when he looked at you. The lines on his face showed that he had been doing this for way too long, but it was not gonna stop him. He say heavy in the saddle, bouncing up and down until I got my trot perfect where he can ride it through. His gnarled hands yanked at the reins, jerking on my mouth. His spurs laid into my skin and I could have sworn left bruises where they punched me. But did I throw him? No. Did I tolerate it? Yes. But that whip. That DAMN whip! I will never understand why he had to lay leather to hide and make vicious marks. One day, I had enough. He landed on the dirt, and I believe I broke a bone when in my bloodred murderous fury I ran him over and through the fence. This dramatic exit would have been legendary, if only my reins had not gotten stuck on a piece of wood. It took all of five minutes for me to be back home, considered untrainable. I'll be damned if I let a jerk like that on my back ever again.
I was sold within a matter of months, deemed unacceptable to be around the little kids, no matter that I had done nothing to them. They only believed the trainer; my story went unheard. But no matter, I had to remember all the good memories. This home was nothing like the other. Yes, we had good grass. We were treated kindly. But it was all business and no pleasure. Which makes Razz cranky. But I lived here only a millisecond. They were transporting us (the horses) to our new home. They stopped at a rest area and let us stretch our legs. A thunderstorm was nearby, and one massize clap of thunder that I could swear shook the Earth, and I ran under the stealth of the night, freaked by it. Within a matter of minutes, the rain started pelting down, and I was caught in the crossfire of the war between sky and Earth. I was lost in the midst of this storm, unknown of my direction that I call home. Did I care? Not really. This was just another adventure..
At this place, I was being trained. I was now three years old, and on my way to being a show mare. But this trainer, I did not like him. His face, there were scars. His eyes were hard and like cold steel when he looked at you. The lines on his face showed that he had been doing this for way too long, but it was not gonna stop him. He say heavy in the saddle, bouncing up and down until I got my trot perfect where he can ride it through. His gnarled hands yanked at the reins, jerking on my mouth. His spurs laid into my skin and I could have sworn left bruises where they punched me. But did I throw him? No. Did I tolerate it? Yes. But that whip. That DAMN whip! I will never understand why he had to lay leather to hide and make vicious marks. One day, I had enough. He landed on the dirt, and I believe I broke a bone when in my bloodred murderous fury I ran him over and through the fence. This dramatic exit would have been legendary, if only my reins had not gotten stuck on a piece of wood. It took all of five minutes for me to be back home, considered untrainable. I'll be damned if I let a jerk like that on my back ever again.
I was sold within a matter of months, deemed unacceptable to be around the little kids, no matter that I had done nothing to them. They only believed the trainer; my story went unheard. But no matter, I had to remember all the good memories. This home was nothing like the other. Yes, we had good grass. We were treated kindly. But it was all business and no pleasure. Which makes Razz cranky. But I lived here only a millisecond. They were transporting us (the horses) to our new home. They stopped at a rest area and let us stretch our legs. A thunderstorm was nearby, and one massize clap of thunder that I could swear shook the Earth, and I ran under the stealth of the night, freaked by it. Within a matter of minutes, the rain started pelting down, and I was caught in the crossfire of the war between sky and Earth. I was lost in the midst of this storm, unknown of my direction that I call home. Did I care? Not really. This was just another adventure..
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