/.x. EqUiNeS .x.\

[.x. ShAyToN .x.]

When they ask me, I am cursed Shayton and I go by no other.

Blood courses through my viens by Fresians before me.

I have walked across the earth Five times and still found no solitude

I have chossen no alliance. I don't feel in the need.

My enbodiment stands topping at 17 hands.

My canvas glittered under the stars in Ebony.

My trendles and whipcord hang across my shilloute in Ebony

I have no paintings to stain my pelt.

Sphers glow in deep Mahogany

Daggers slam into the turf in raven

I act A dark past awakes when you look at me. My father and grandsire were both broncs of threat. They would go around force breeding all insite. Many a broncs ganged together and put an end to the two. But now their terrible shadow reins 'pon terrible being. Everybody thinks that I will turn out just like my father and grandsire before me. So they secludded me. Kicked and bit me and wouldn't leave him alone. I was bullied until I got bigger than the rest. Now I just wanders around secluded, not knowing my path.

My past Nothing moved. The wind was down, the rivers seemed to stop, the great amber ball in the sky seemed to quit rising. All seemed to freeze as the large ebony bronc moved into the lands. His pelt gleamed but was scattered with the many scars of his babehood. His harsh life has lead to a harsher time now. He was now five years old and he had no mate, no love, no babes, no alliance, he was all alone. Nobody cared for a bronc that was of such a blood line. Who wanted a brute from a forces line, coming from one of the finer looking femmena's that happen to cross his sires path.

A snort of discust exploded from his ebony nares as the bronc though of his sire. His sire and grandsire had been a terrible pair. Trampsing around in the shadows, frocing mares along their way. If a femmena came into view they would debate on who would get her. Once coming to an agreement, the 'lucky' mutt would step out of the foliage while the other watched. They would make their aproach and would breed the femmena. If she refused and ran and the selected mutt failed the other would go after her and do his job. If they both failed, which was very very rarely, they would leave madder than ever.

So many broncs who had well respected harems and mares that were being forced by this 'dynamic dowo' were getting sick of the pair running around and decied to put an end to it. Where as that same night that his sire died, Shayton was born. So five broncs were selected and the went to the two mutts hiding place. They soon killed Shayton's grandsire and went for his sire. As his father layed dieing. His dam gave birth, just as he took his first breath, his father took his last. They were glad to get rid of the mutts and soon returned home. Now the only weird thing was out of all the femmena's forced, only 3 foals were born, two of which died within the first week of living. But Shayton did not.

The leader of Shaytons dam was furious and wanted to kill Shayton right away. But his mother would not let him. And being his love for her, he submitted, she told him that she would tell Shayton that his father was him, the leader that everyone resepceted, and that he would grow up to be just like him, honest and forgiving. But none of the other foals knew better than to keep it a secret and they soon began to beat 'pon poor Shayton has they found out about his sire and grandsires 'grand' work. So he was brutily beat and teased and soon became very secluded. All the mares shunned his mother for keeping him and nobody would forgive the lead bronc for alowing her to. So soon it was just the three.

Shayton grew older and soon his mother passed away at the age of twenty-five years old. Finding no reason to hold on to Shayton, the lead bronc soon left to find some peace before his passing. Shayton to this day does not know wheither he is alive or passed on. So Shayton began to wander alone, finding no comfort where ever he went. Seeing that nobody wanted nothing to do with him, and he wanting nothing to do with them, he soon left his old homeland and traveld north. He traveled for miles at a time hardly finding food or water, and nearly coming to fate of death. But he soon stumbled into this new harem and he is hoping to start a new life. Nobody knows of his sire and grandsire's reing her and he hopes to keep it that way. But he doesn't really want to get to innermingled with any other equines because of his dark and brutal past.

So here he stood over looking the new world which for now he could call home. But what would he do here and how he would do it were still a mystery to he himself. He didn't really want to innermingle with many, for fear of his dark secret coming out, and for what his past has done to him all together. In some ways, some say that his babehood has made him retarted, but no thankfully he is not. No he is just confused. From what he sees life, it is a harsh, cruel, cold life. And it will never change. But what he 'needs' to learn, is that just because something was harsh and bad, doesn't mean that it all is. So can he learn in his new home this new lesson for his soul to retrieve? Or is his destiny into wandering the sand dunes for enternity till he parishes from this earth without a trace and nobody ever knew he was there?

My portrait
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[.x. ShAyToN .x.]

I am curssed to be Flaming Comet. If we become friends then I go by Comet.

I have walked the earth for only four winters.

The blood I take comes from my Arabian ansestors.

I am cursed a Brutt and always will be.

I take to no alliance for I feel no need for one.

My enbodiment stands only at a mere 16 hands I think.

My canvas burns with the entensity of a thousand Scarlet suns.

My banner and dreads hold back across the Crimson waves.

My canvas was painted unblemished across my facade and shanks

My spheres flickered in a deep earthen color

My daggers hold me off the ground with a rich Raven.

I act I try to be polite. I want true love but don't know where to find it. I want to be loved back and need the perfect one to do so.

My past Has nothing interesting to report.

My portrait:

[.x. ShAyToN .x.]

I usually don't remember for I am not around others much but I am blessed Unreal Sanity. I don't know many equines but the ones I do usually just call me Sanity

I have held breath through my lungs for only a short two years.

The blood the courses deep through my veins is striked by araibans

The sex I have been marked is a Fatale

My canvas glitters with a deep ashen color.

My banner and silks all float in a sweet unblemished mist

My long shanks do not give me much height barely topping 14. 5

My facade is taited with moon washed stripe

My tears fall silently 'pon a rich mahogany depth

My diamonds hold no more than a livid ash tint to them.

I act I am secluded. I was born a loner and don't know very few equines. I don't know what to do around them and feel out of place.

My past Was nothing. I lost my parents as a yearling and have wandered ever since. Wondering what to do with my life.

I have one sibbling that I know of, but I don't think he remembers me. He has grown so much older and handsomer that I can barely remember him from when I was young. But my true brother is the one the call Flaming Comet

My potrait