Please post your mascot backstories here! Remember they are due by the end of today!

In a far away land, but not too far away, a long time ago, but not too long ago a young hawk named Osprey was patrolling for fish when it came upon a large swamp, but not too large of a swamp you see. There she met a not big bird, but not small bird named Whistler. The two birds, after a brief time decided to team up together in a search for food and shelter and soon became best-friends roaming the wilderness. Together they flew over the not small, but good size swamps, chirping like crazy until one early morning they flew up upon a place to rest, they had not found sizeable amounts of food for days. They sat there chirping in the trees deciding which way to travel next when they were interrupted by a great grumbling coming from below.

""Who dares disturb my peace?"

Startled by the voice the two birds stopped and looked down below, finally deciding to investigate they dropped to the earth and began poking around, chirping to one another as they went along until from under a rock a lizard named Pete emerged looking quite angry. "I SAID, who dares to disturb my peace?" He grumbled again watching the two birds with a sharp eye.

Osprey and her friend Whistler were both taken aback by the little lizard and before they could help themselves they were twittering in amusement. Osprey, the braver of the two, finally managed to get out, "disturbing you, but you're just so small?! We could easily pick you apart!"

Pete surveyed the two birds lazily, "that would be unadvisable little bird?"

"Me, LITTLE? Have you seen your reflection?" Osprey shot back with a haughty look. How dare a little lizard dismiss her so easily! "I haven't eaten yet today, I could go for an unusual meal, how about you dear Whistler?"

Whistler looked between his companion and the lizard and then bobbed his head. "I could eat."

The two birds began to advance upon the lizard. Pete let out a weary sigh before closing his eyes lazily, "I have warned you birds. I will not be played with," he spoke before, with a blinding flash the little lizard was gone and the two birds were suddenly shadowed by a mighty unicorn stallion. "I am Pete the Wizard, and I will not be played with!" He thundered one mighty hoof crashing into the swamp land dangerously close to Osprey.

The little birds flew up into safer ground both chirping loudly again in surprise. Pete waited until the two birds quieted down, eyed them for a moment longer before finally speaking once more. "You two be quiet, I've had enough noise for my lifetime," with that he transformed back and began to make his way back under the safety of his rock.

Osprey then made a split section decision and flew back down near the lizard. "Could you change US into horses like you?" She questioned before her nerves failed her.

Pete looked up at the bird, mulling over the question. "Perhaps, would you two be quieter?" Osprey bobbed her head yes. Pete didn't really want to do a favor for the two loud offensive creatures but if it would get them to leave his swamp and let him go back to living in peace he would certainly do it. He'd been enjoying the quiet life for years and had no interest in having company. "What about you?" He asked Whistler who had flown down to join Osprey. Once again he got a yes. "Why?"

Osprey thought for a moment. "Size, easier foraging for food. We're both so hungry, it's been days since we've had a good meal... and you're... so majestic in your horse form!""

"You'll never fly again," Pete warned. Finally after several more minutes of the birds spitting out reasons they wanted to be special and be changed he agreed. He slipped back into his unicorn form and heaved a one last weary sigh before touching his horn upon each of the birds.

Osprey took shape of a beautiful bay Paint mare with a long mane and regal face. Whistler turned into a grey and white stallion with a flowing mane and tail. The pair stood there in their new bodies staring at one another. Adjusting to the idea of four legs and no wings. Osprey's skin twitched over her shoulders where she should have had wings and she turned around staring at the empty space. "You really did it," she breathed out. Turning back to look at Pete she discovered the majestic stallion was gone, as was the lizard. "Get out of my swamp," the rumbling voice came again from under the rock. Osprey didn't have to be told twice and turned, high tailing it out of the swamp tail flagging in the wind, Whistler ever faithful right behind her.

The pair found their way out of the swamp and out of the woods coming upon a great field they slowed to a stop eying their new world. The sky no longer seemed so big as they couldn't see nearly as far but the world seemed so much more intimidating. "Let's go to the ocean," Osprey breathed said longing for the salty air she knew. Leading the way Osprey galloped towards the home she had known as a bird. They traveled quickly and before long she was on a well beaten path boarded with flowers heading towards the sand and the sea. She could feel the ocean breeze in a way she'd never felt before and the wind in her tail re-energized her in a way it never had underneath her wings.

Once upon a time..
In the shadows of Mordor...
lol just kidding!

It was a cold february morning.
In the barn of a small farm, the McCormick family's only mare was about to foal.
She was restless and stirring about and making a ton of noise.
Unfortunately, this would be the last day of the old mares existence on earth.
She gave the family a beatiful little filly and then she nickered to her new foal and said: "nothing can hold you down, you are Limitless" and then passed on.

The family woke up to a little foal laying next to her mother.
They were saddened at the mares passing and the fact that the little foal wasnt a colt.

So they decided to take the foal to the sale and trade it for a horse that suited their needs.
No one wanted the tiny foal and figured it would die soon without its mother, so no one took a chance on her, except one tiny little boy named Charlie.
Charlie bought the tiny foal for ten dollars that his father Ben had given him for collecting cans.
When Charlie and his dad walked over to take possesion, everyone laughed at them and said she would amount to nothing.

So Charlie's dad picked up the foal and they put her in the truck and took her home to their tiny little shack of a home.
Looking down at the tiny foal Charlie's dad grinned and said "you have a lot of work ahead of you, if you want to keep this kid alive son."
Charlie was super excited because he finally had something of his own to care for. He had big plans for his tiny beast and just couldnt quite figure out what to name her...
so he waited until she was a bit older to see what she would turn in to...and their journey began...

A couple years passed and the tiny foal grew into the best looking mare in the county.
She was strong and beautiful gray coat and long flowing mane and tail and muscles rippling in the sunlight.

Charlie had done a wonderful job at raising her and training her.
Since she was envied by everyone who thought she wouldnt amount to anything Charlie decided to name his horse Limitless!

Since naming her, Charlie started competing in reining on her, winning everything in sight!

The tiny shack they both grew up in turned into a luxurious home...everything kept growing and growing!
Unfortunately, a year later Charlie's dad had passed away and it crushed him.

He gave up on the horses and decided to sell everything and move to the city.

He sold Limitless to a mean lady and her stuck up daughter.
Who in turn sold her off because she didnt work out for them as the daughter thought she was worthless.

Limitless then went from home to home and started slipping into being nothing more than a dull horse.
She was depressed and just started losing weight and was then sent back to an auction where she just lay there lifeless.

Just as she was about to go into a deep sleep the family who discarded her in the first place bought her back.

It turns out that the family regretted their decision the day they left her at the auction.
For her mother was a great horse for them and Limitless reminded them of her.
So they nursed the mare back to health and she became the Limitless mare she was known for.

The youngest of the kids decided to train her for a competitive trail course.
Of course Limitless being true to her name, dominated it!

She won every challenge put in front of her.
One day Limitless decided to be free.

Since she could basically do anything and everything as if she had wings.
She escaped and the family had everyone out looking for her.
A group of men ran her down, but she was just too quick and would stay one step ahead of their every move.

They ran her to the mountains and came to a cliff with a 10 ft gap inbetween it and the other side...
They thought surely they had her now...
but being true to her nature and remembering the words her mother once told her, Limitless jumped and was never seen again.

Some country folk swear they saw a gray horse running wild and free through the valleys and canyons, but no one could prove it.
THE END!

Originally foaled in Germany, Andromedae was brought to the United States as a yearling. Her powerful figure, full mane, sure-footedness and reliability gives her unlimited potential. She began her training for dressage at 3 years old. She began competing seriously in dressage at 5 years old, and won all her competitions in the top five places. She quickly became known as a top performing dressage horse. She is set to compete in the Grand Prix and is expected to break records.

Bristol

On December 11th, 2013 a spunky little pup by the name of Bristol joined the Cummings house hold.  She was smart, eager to learn, and her little butt always wiggling in happiness.  She quickly grasped new tricks and was soon ringing a bell to let us know when she went outside to go potty.  Unfortunately, when an animal is smart they don’t always use their powers for good.  This is a story of a little naughty Boxapoint pup who’s nose just never stopped growing!

It was 3 weeks after we brought Bristol home that we noticed something odd about her nose.  Something was different from when we left her in the morning.  It looked like it had grown longer.  How could it be though?  It was only a couple hours.  As both of us were examining the dog and her possible pinocchio growth of a nose, a loud meow of disgust came from behind us.  Smudge the cat was unhappy and per usual, had to let us know.  I turned around and followed the cat thinking she would take me to an empty food dish or a dirty water bowl, but we took a detour into the living room.  There laid the remains of poor Snakie, Smudge’s FAVORITE toy. I picked up what was left of poor Snakie and his white fluffy remains strewn about the living room. I took them back to where Beau and Bristol were to show the trophy of Bristol’s kill.  The second she saw Snakie a look of guilt flooded across her face.  No questions asked we knew who was behind the demise of Snakie.

Almost a whole month went by after the weird nose growth spurt and the death of Snakie (that we just chalked up to a weird coincidence), when I came home to a massacre of white fluff in my living room.  I found the mess before I found the villain that brutally murdered my beloved pillow.  After wading through the sea of stuffing I finally made it to the slider door to head out back to see if I could find this adorable murderer.  Sure enough, I found her trying to play with the cat, bouncing back and forth dodging swipes.  She was having a blast until she turned and saw me.  Her face painted with guilt as she slunk to the ground.  She laid there occasionally glancing at the cat as if to try and pin it on her.  As I walked up to her I noticed her nose was noticeably longer.  After the Snakie incident this couldn’t be a coincidence!

I called Bristol into the house, and she reluctantly followed.  She was sure she was headed for a time out.  When we kept walking past her bed, and towards the garage she got a pep in her step thinking she was scott free and going for a ride!  Once in the garage I grabbed a measuring tape and asked Bristol to sit.  I just had to find out if this “Pinocchio Theory” was real.  I measured her nose, wrote down the numbers and put it in a safe place.  Now to wait until next time.

We didn’t have to wait long to test our theory.  Bristol must have known we were anxious to see if this was real or just in our heads.  She decided it was go big or go home and decided to eat Beau’s gaming mouse, another pillow, turbo tax (thank goodness we already filed), and the remote to our sound bar.  I stood there amongst the mess of some expensive belongings when I remembered, we can test the theory! I ran to get the measuring tape, and find the pesky pooch.  She must have heard the garage door because the house was a ghost town.  I did some snooping around the backyard and stumbled across a very remorseful puppy with some fuzz still hanging on her lips.  She must of been mid shred when she heard the garage door open, and high tailed it outside.  Forgetting to even be angry I called her inside and back to the garage we went.  

I measured her nose and checked the numbers.  I did this 3 times before it finally set in.  A whole half an inch in a WEEK?!  I couldn’t believe it.  It grows every time she does a naughty thing!  This lead to more questions!  Does the amount it grow depend on how naughty she was?  Will it ever stop growing?  We just had to wait and see what happened next if it happened next.

It was a quiet couple months where Bristol was actually using her smarts for good!  She learned how to roll over and play dead.  Our neighbor bought her a hula hoop to see if she would jump through it and she learned it with ease.  It was a wonderful couple months thinking that Bristol was finally out of her puppy stage.  We wondered if her nose was finally done growing, as we measured weekly with no changes.  It was finally time to get Bristol spayed.  We had to come up with a plan to keep her locked up during the day so she wouldn’t tear her stitches.  The next day, when we headed to work we locked her up in the office with her cone of shame on thinking everything would be fine.

That evening, I was the first to come home, and of course went to the office to let out the poor laid up pup.  I opened the door and out ran a Bristol whose nose looked a heck of a lot longer than this morning.  Worried, I opened the door the rest of the way and saw why a certain somebody was excited to run out as fast as she could.  She was fleeing the scene of the crime, the biggest one yet.  All though she was left with an array of toys of her own she decided a box of my old work items was her very own cardboard chew toy with many more items inside.  It didn’t stop there!  She’s very thorough when it comes to being naughty!  She pulled books from the book shelf and ate their covers.  She pulled some cords off from the computer monitor, and knocked a picture down and gnawed on the wooden corner.  Last, but certainly not least, she managed to push the office chair over and damage the window blinds to the point of no repair.  We are talking blinds that are 5ft off the ground and higher RUINED.  She really outdid herself this time.

I ran to the garage and grabbed the tape and the numbers and went to track down the cone headed brat.  Again, I found her sulking outside (still not sure how she made it out the doggy door with a cone on!).  I grabbed her cone to hold her still and pulled out the tape measuring her snout.  Over an inch of growth!  The most it’s ever grown at once!  It must mean the naughtier she is the more her nose grows at once!

I’ll never actually know for sure though as that was the last recorded major growth, and it seems her nose is happy with it’s length.  She has her good days and bad, but she’s never done anything that bad at those extremes since then.  We never expected her nose to grow this long, but we have also grown to love it, and her very much.

Tyonek

It was a usual crisp morning in Alaska, and Tyonek was on the hunt.  He found his normal hunting path and started darting through the snow, nose to the ground sniffing out some breakfast for his empty belly.  He liked following the wolves trail and catching any of their leftovers.  Tyonek liked to think it was smart, not lazy.  It wasn’t long before he came across a meal with plenty left for him.

While finishing up his breakfast he heard a cry for help.  His head popped up, ears perked, and mouth still full of a large last bite.  He wasn’t sure what it was calling for help, but it sounded desperate and scared.  He waited there not chewing and ears open to hear for another cry in hopes of finding what direction it was coming from.

“EEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHH” that was replied to by a much louder stronger cry equally as worried.

There is was again!  Tyonek whipped his head around and started running towards the urgent bleats.  It sounded like they were coming from the highway.  He quickened his pace hoping to get there before a car did.

Upon reaching the blacktop of the narrow 2 lane highway he saw the source of the cries.  It was a small newly born moose crying for her mother just on the other side of the guardrail.  Momma made it over just fine, but her legs were too short to clear the rail.  Momma moose kept hopping back and forth trying to show baby how to do it, but despite all the effort she just couldn’t make it.

Momma moose hadn’t seen Tyonek yet until he made it out of the woods and onto the road.  He clearly wasn’t a wolf but it still made Momma weary.  She hopped the guardrail and became a barrier between him and baby.  He slowly approached trying to show Momma that he was there to help.  It must of worked as she stepped to the side and was on the other side of the metal barrier by the time Tyonek reached baby.

Momma moose cried for baby once more.  She put her front legs on the guardrail, and Tyonek positioned himself behind her and used all his force to help push baby of the rail.  Baby went up, over, and tumbled to the ground.  She quickly wobbled to her feet while Momma sniffed around for any injuries.  Baby had made it over unscathed.

Baby nuzzled Momma, and turned back at Tyonek making a soft grunt.  Tyonek approached the rail and put his two front feet on the rail to peer over.  Baby came up and gave him a big lick right on his snout and dashed back to Momma.  The two of the bounded off into the forest happily reunited.  Tyonek watched them as they disappeared into the shadows of the trees.  With a warm feeling inside and a full belly Tyonek dropped down from the rail and headed back home.  Today is a good day, he thought, a good day indeed.

Major Payne

I still remember the way my heart leapt and my jaw dropped when I saw him for the first time. After a long, anxious drive to the barn I finally laid eyes upon the horse that held my dreams captive since the day I saw the ad. He was perfect, from his dished face to his curved ears. The way his mane draped elegantly over his neck, his tail held high. I couldn't believe that this horse, this beautiful creature was mine.

For seven years Major Payne, who never failed to live up to his name, was my best friend. We had many adventures together. From quiet fall walks alone through the woods, to galloping full speed through seemingly endless fields. We rode to the mall once, and he even brought me home safely when a severe thunderstorm hit while we were miles from the barn. Some nights I would pad into the pasture with my bare feet, climb aboard his back and lay down. I would rest my head on his rump and feel his belly expand between my legs with each calm breath.

In the fall of 2015 I had to write an essay for my English Comp class. The theme was "Remembering Essay" And you were meant to write about a day you remember in great detail. I wrote about the day that Major died. It was incredibly difficult to write, and still painful for me to read. Feel free to read it below.

I Will Find My Way Back to You

The phone call that woke me that morning at my friend’s house startled me out of my sleep. The first thing that I remember was the sun glaring down from the window above the couch into my eyes. Groggily my hands fumbled across the coffee table and then to the floor to grasp the vibrating phone that was shrieking with my grandmother’s ringtone. When I picked it up, the urgency on the other side was immediately noticed. 

Her voice was shaken as she shouted, “Major won’t get up, you have to come home right now! He won’t get up!”

I was ten miles away from home and knowing the way she overreacts I tried to calm myself and asked “Are you sure? What is he doing?” Her frantic voice grew more impatient as she bellowed back to me “He is rolling and he will not stand up! You have to come out here right now, he is dying!”

My heart started to pound as I told her I would be home as soon as I could. I remember how quiet it was in the house and I was the only person awake. I remember the cold feeling in my veins and the intense feeling of rushing that had swept over me as I packed the remains of my overnight bag and scurried down the hall towards the door. The sunlight and heat washed over me like a wave as I squinted and fumbled for my car keys. I flung open the door and sat down on the hot seat of my Mustang and thought to myself, just get there, just breathe and get there.

The drive home itself is something that I won’t ever forget. The sense of panic and urgency swallowed my being; my hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I remember the rumble of my exhaust through my open windows as I raced around the curves of the highway. Normally I would have spent this time thinking about how hot it was, how I needed to fix my air conditioning; but this day my only thoughts were It can’t be that bad, I can’t lose him. When I get there he’ll be standing up, all I have to do is get there. I’ll get there and he’ll be just fine. The racing in my heart and mind matched symbolically with the racing of my car through the twists and turns of the highway.

When I pulled into the driveway and up towards the barn, I saw that it was much worse than I had imagined. All the convincing I attempted on that terrible race home was for nothing. I looked into the pasture to see him rolling, flailing and screeching. My horse and friend of seven years had always been quiet and composed. The change in him disturbed me profoundly. The heat was scorching on my skin as I opened the gate into the pasture. I attempted to approach him, calling his name, trying to sooth his frantic mind. He had rolled around in the same spot so violently he had ripped up the green grass with the sweat of his exertion and fear had mixed with the earth beneath him, creating a patch of dark mud.

I stuck out my hands and offered the most soothing voice I could muster. I heard my own shaky voice as it cooed, “It’s okay buddy…it’s alright…whoaaa.”

The whites of his eyes showed and his nostrils flared. His legs were covered in a thick layer of mud and his chest was soaked with sweat. His flailing hooves made it impossible for me to get near him and my unsteady voice was not convincing: his pain being the only voice that could reach him. Feeling wave after wave of fear enveloping me, I raced back toward the barn and grabbed the halter and lead rope. I walked back to him, moving in as close as I could, trying to soothe him with intermittent “whoas” as I waited for him to stop rolling. I stared at this display of panic with my heart pounding in my ears. Thoughts of death and loss crept through my mind. In a response similar to a survival instinct, determination began rising in my chest combating the feelings of fear and death. I told myself that I would do whatever it took to save my friend.

Suddenly he sat up and blew out a deep snorting breath. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief as I rushed over to him and ran my hands down his sweat-soaked neck. His coat was caked in mud and foam dripped down his neck from his exhaustive efforts. I slowly put on his halter and pulled firmly with the lead rope, coaxing him to stand. I dug my feet into the mud and I pulled until my palms burned and my arms were weak. Then, just like that, he finally stood. He snorted again exhaling his anxiety and his tail swished against his sides, batting away the flies that had swarmed him mercilessly, even in his distress. He shook himself with a grunt, mud went flying and sweat dripped down his legs.

I smiled with relief and breathily said, “Good boy bubba, good boy!” I started walking him around in a circle to keep him from lying back down. It was the only thing I could do for him at this point. I had already called a veterinarian and waited anxiously for his arrival. Major was still in pain. The instinctive desire to lie back down came to him every few moments. I would feel a tug behind me on the lead rope every time he tried and I pulled back as hard as I could. Each tug was like a sudden drop in my gut. Just keep walking, just stay up buddy, please just stay up, I begged, silently.

A particularly forceful yank against the lead rope preceded the sound of his collapse. He blew a defeated breath through his nostrils and my heart sank with despair. I felt the sting of tears as they welled in my eyes. All of my determination and hope seemed to slowly fade away. My shoulders slouched in defeat as I walked up to him and curled myself into the space between his hooves and his belly. I sat in the mud with him I laid my head on his shoulder. I breathed in the scent of him: an earthy, wholesome smell unique to horses and the acrid, salty smell of his sweat. I ran my hand down his neck and allowed my tears to flow unchecked as I imagined, this could be the last time I will ever do this.

Gravel crunched in the distance and I stood up, new hope washing over me as the veterinarian pulled into my driveway and up to the barn. He parked next to the fence where Major and I lay waiting and I anxiously waved him over. He opened his truck box and the clinking of different gadgets and medicines rang out into the silence of the pasture. The gate opened with a squeal as the older man with a weathered face and soft eyes looked from me to Major, assessing the situation. I stuttered out an explanation of everything that had happened in the last couple hours. He nodded and mumbled something as he immediately got to work. I backed away to let him examine Major. I nervously crossed my arms, and for the first time since I arrived home, felt a breeze wash over me.

“I’m going to have to make him stand up.” The vet informed me with a pained look on his face. “You’re not going to like the way I have to do it.”

I cringed as he retrieved a cattle prod from the back of his truck. He walked up to Major and touched the prod to his haunches and he shot up to all fours. It was as though the jolt of electricity had also gone through me. My eyes followed the veterinarian as he worked over my horse, listening to his stomach and feeding tubes into his throat.

I watched anxiously and asked incessantly, “Is he going to make it? He’s going to be okay, right?” and the man with the soft eyes continued to work, too focused to answer my repeated questions.

I stood there in the muddy pasture covered in sweat and tears while I watched him disappointingly shake his head. He walked over to me and I could feel the lump in my throat start to grow and the sting of fresh tears as they brimmed over completely. 

“He has an impaction. It cannot be fixed,” he said gently. “If you love him, the kindest thing you can do is to put him down. Otherwise he’ll spend several days in misery until he passes on his own.”

It felt as though all the determination I had, all the hope that still glowed in me like embers were doused in an instant. I could no longer feel the heat, nor the swarm of flies my sweat had attracted. All I could feel was a suffocating grief unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life. In the bravest way I could manage I walked over to my medicine-fogged, exhausted Major. I slowly lead him under an oak tree in the shade of the pasture and stroked his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” I told him, with tears streaming steadily down my face. The lump in my throat made it painful to even whisper my goodbyes. “I love you buddy, I love you, I’m so sorry.”

I managed to compose myself through my utter grief as I watched the man with the soft eyes walk toward us with a filled syringe. “Are you ready?” He asked as his gentle eyes met mine. I nodded as he stroked Major’s neck with the softness and steadiness of a man who had done this many times before, who had watched many owners say tearful goodbyes to their beloved friends.

As the shot was administered I remembered as I ran my hands down his neck my earlier thought, this will be the last time I’ll do this.

His front legs buckled, then followed by his back as he thudded into the soft grass. Blinded by tears, I dropped to my knees, ignoring the cuts and scrapes from our earlier struggles and pulled his face into my lap. I rubbed his forehead and told him how much I loved him, how sorry I was. I watched the light fade out of his eyes while I said my goodbyes in the shade of that oak tree. His last breath was like a long sigh and then, stillness. All the commotion was absent, only the silence of a life now extinguished. I knew on that day and all the emotions I felt, from fear to determination, to disappointment, and finally to complete and total grief that it would be a day I would never forget.

Major has been gone for three years now. I still visit that soft patch of green grass under the oak tree where he’s buried. He rescued me as a troubled teenager and taught me about friendship, love, and harmony. In the end he taught me a life lesson about death, grief, and loss. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss him, and I will remember him with fondness in my years to come.

STORY: PIXEL PERFECT

Have you ever felt like some aspect of your life lacks dimension? Have you ever felt like your personal growth has flat-lined when everyone else around you seems so multi-faceted?

If so, you’re not alone in this world. There is a very special horse who is dealing with these problems as well – in his own, special kind of way.

Meet Pixel. He’s a solid bay Hanoverian stallion with a “plane” white blaze, flat white stockings, a smooth coat, and no memory of life before his third birthday – and he’s on a mission to find out just who he is. All he knows so far is that he came from “the store” or “photo shop” or somewhere similar. The paint shop pros, perhaps? All seven, or eight, or however many of them there are now? Not possible – he’s not a paint! He’s a Hanoverian! Corel? No, no, he’s not a polyp. He’s a horse. There has to be some explanation for this!

Pixel has teamed up with Robyn & ROUX, two very tangible Hanoverian breeders in the world of Horse Phenomena (who claim that they were not the ones who foaled him), in an attempt to find out who he truly is. They are putting him through a rigorous training program so that he may one day be up to code as the solid outlier in his field. This mascot contest is his one shot at recognition – perhaps, once he’s a famous Pixel, he will finally have an identity and metadata memories of his own!

Will you help Pixel by rocketing him in a linear path to HP Non Ticket Mascot?

He’s Pixel Perfect…and he’s counting on you!

Bree's Story...

I remember the day I first met my mommy. I had been in a horrible vets office for over a week. They allowed me to lay in my own mess, they didn't bathe me and I wasn't being fed properly. One morning they came for me-- I was terrified but I allowed them to put a leash on me, with shaky legs I slowly followed the vet tech through the halls. We came upon a corner, I turned my head to look into the waiting room and that was it--that's the first time I saw my mommy.

She was a young girl. I overheard her explaining she was here to pickup a rescue for the Humane Society. She glanced my way, her eyes held mine and in that instant I knew this would be "my forever". Slowly, she walked up to me, knelt down on one knee and softly called my name, "Bree". How did she know my name?! This is it, she must really by my mommy! Slowly and timidly with my tail tucked I made my way over to her.

She took me out of that horrible vet's office. I began to learn what it was like to be loved, to eat a regular meal and be a cherished family member. I formed quite the bond with my new mom and my family, they love me.

My new family realized I was a fast learner with a lot of energy since I wasn't so scared. They taught me this new game called agility. I've ran many obstacle courses and I think I've made my family proud because every time after I'm done, they cheer for me and give me lots of pets. I heard my family talking about competing in the Agility World Championship. I hope I do well and make them proud!

Horse: Incandescence
ID #: 262376
Category: Non-Tickets/Shows

Ears twitch at the sound of the wind playing among the tall sea grass. Droopy lids blink open to allow the dim moonlight to reflect upon the mare's pupils. Another calm night along the ocean. Sea foam bubbling as the waves wash up to the shore. A simple sigh was released before the mare yawned and rose to her feet. Shaking her thick mane as she stretched. No more sleep shall come tonight. Thoughts of the day to come started to appear as the mare known as Incandescence gazed out across the sands. Her herd was dotted here and there as they continued on in their slumber. How simple life had become once they made it to the coastline...

...For so long each and every day life was a struggle, at least from what she was told growing up. She's only been around the seasons three times now so not a whole lot of experience especially since she was kept with all the other foals and wasn't allowed to listen in to her elder's talks. Only for stories from long ago and what they'll be doing and where they'll be grazing to next. Now that she was no longer just a silly little girl her world was beginning to open up into something that was much more than she could of ever imagined. Finding out she was the great, great granddaughter of the mighty stallion Solar Breeze made her heart skip a beat...

...He was known as the stallion of the Light who fought true and brave for his beloved and his family. To come from such lineage made her feel special, not just another of the herd. Her elders spoke of Solar's troubles and of how each time he overcame. Not always successful, but he survived, and thrived for a very long time. She wanted to be great like him one day. With that thought a chuckle from another would always follow. One belongs to the herd, they stay with the herd. Live a simple life, be quiet and enjoy each day, for each day the shadows of the North grow closer. A topic very much hush-hush among her adopted family. She was taken in with her mother before she was born, so this herd was all that she had known up until now...

...With each crashing wave the darkness of the night began to fade. Today was going to be the day. This young spirit needed to find her own way in this world. She would miss them dearly, but she didn't want to live out the rest of her life by the sea. As wonderful as it was, the mysteries of the forest not too far from here and beyond were calling her name. Be the light through the shadows. Shine where all else is dull and dark. Her heart beating faster with each passing moment. The moonlight disappeared as pink and orange clouds rolled in overhead, the warmth of the sun beginning to grow as it appeared up over the crests of the waves. This was it...

...The time was now. With another soft sigh Incandescence gave her herd another glance over before leaving her spot of rest. With the wind now tussling through her tail she set off towards the forest. Somewhere out there was her new life and she was going to find it no matter how difficult the struggles may be. She was going to make something of herself, to carry on the Light. With that she began her journey into the unknown.

 


 
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."
-Eleanor Roosevelt 
 


 
His whole life he’s been kept in a 12 x 12 box stall. From the stall to the track, then back to the stall. All Seeker ever wanted was a taste of freedom. To run around fields of grass and clover. He’s never known the feeling of grass under his hooves. All he’s known is the sensation of the whip against his hindquarters and the dirt track under his feet. The blinders prevented him from losing focus, but he didn’t need them. He was completely focused on his dream…to win and to be free.

 Every horse at the track knows what happens if you don’t win enough to earn your keep…you’re sent away to auction or worse. Failing was not an option. Seeker was determined to win every race he ever entered and earn his freedom. He heard if he won enough races, he’d be retired to his own field of grass to live out the rest of his life as a stud.

Day in and day out he trained. He pushed his body to the limits. He ate for fuel, slept for energy, and ran to win. When he wasn’t training, he was traveling to the next race by trailer or by plane. The air at each location smelled different and Seeker’s desire for freedom grew with each passing day. He raced more races than any other horse from his stable. Old friends left and new, younger ones replaced them. Seeker knew he’d never see his friends again, so he never bothered forming a bond with any of them. He was alone in his quest.

55 wins. 55 starts. An impressive career. The owners, however, were never satisfied. They pushed and pushed. More races, more traveling, more prize money. At only eight years old, Seeker’s legs were starting to feel heavy and slow, and his dreams were gradually slipping away. He went through the motions of each day, but he no longer had the spirit he once had. He was too tired to care, too tired to lift his head and smell the scents of the different tracks, and too tired to hope. This was his life and there is no happy ending for a racehorse, or so he thought.

One Wednesday morning, the time came for his routine morning jog. Normally, Seeker would turn to the stall door, lower his head for the halter, then march proudly to the track. Today, however, he didn’t have the energy for that. He stood in the corner with his head held low and sore hind leg resting on it’s toe. The exercise rider seemed to know something wasn’t right, and immediately shut the stall door. It turned out, there wouldn’t be a race for Seeker today.

After a short visit from the disgruntled owner, and a quick pat on the neck, Seeker was led to the trailer for the last time.

A lot goes on in a horse’s head when they're in the trailer. "Where are we going? Am I being sent to auction? Did I do something wrong? Why the heck is this person driving so fast!" It was a long journey, but finally the trailer stopped and the ramp came down.

Seeker’s heavy head lifted and he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of something he’s never known before….freedom. There wasn’t a barn or track in sight. Just acres and acres of grass, clover, flowers, and trees.

 
He was finally and will forever be FREE. 
 
 
 
 

“Check the laundry honey.” Bill calmly answered his wife. Bill knew Nancy was starting to lose her memory at the ripe old age of 86, but lately it has been getting worse. She’s been claiming to lose socks for the past three months. Maybe they’re getting stuck in the washing machine? Bill thought to himself. A quick check of both the washing machine and dryer proved otherwise. No missing socks.

“It’s the middle of February, I can’t go to church without my left sock! My toes will freeze!” Nancy continued. She had already looked everywhere in their little two-story town house. Normally she was very organized, but their recent adoption of an old rescue dog was throwing her daily routine off balance.

Rustler, was a 12-year-old Jack Russell Terrier. He was thrown onto the street by a family who decided there was no longer room in their house for a dog. When Nancy and Bill went to the Humane Society to drop off their monthly donation check, they were instantly greeted at the door by the happy little dog. Bill had always been an animal lover, and he couldn’t leave the little guy behind, especially not a month before Christmas.

Three months later, the little dog was all settled into his new home. He adjusted quickly to the set schedule Bill liked to keep. First, at exactly 7am each morning, Rustler followed Bill on the mailbox to retrieve the newspaper. And boy, did the old man walk slow! After the paper was safely inside, Nancy would have breakfast on the table and dog food in Rustler’s bowl.

Once breakfast was over, Bill would take Rustler for a long, slow walk around the neighborhood while Nancy got showered and dressed for the day. By the time they got back inside the house, Nancy was usually just coming out of the bathroom in her cozy robe, make-up and hair done, and her outfit laid out on the bed. Bill would come in from the walk and plop himself down on the recliner for a quick nap. This was when Rustler had to be quick.

Little legs flew up the stairs to the master suite and jumped up onto the bed. “Bill is that you?” Nancy would always call from the closet. Rustler looked at the half-closed closet door and cocked his head to the side. She doesn’t see me, he thought. Quickly, he grabbed a sock from the pile of laid out clothes and darted to the guest bedroom. Ducking under the bed, he dropped the sock into his collection and scooted out of the room and back down the stairs in record timing. Bill was sound asleep and snoring. Rustler nestled into the dog bed next to the recliner and quickly pretended to be sleeping loyally next to his owner.

 
“BILL! WHERE DID MY SOCK GO?!” 

Victorious 

Victorious is a lined mare, bred from some of my top horses leading back to my original mascot entry from last year, California Dreamin'. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be for California Dreamin' and she lost the contest. Victorious has always been an excellent working mare, always pushing herself past the limits in search of greatness. Now, she is going to attempt to do what her grandmother never could: be the HP mascot contest winner. And she dreams that in the end, she will be Victorious.

(Side note, the song Victorious by Panic! at the Disco was playing on the radio when I first read the announcement of the contest. It's a catchy song and thought it would make a great name!)

WINTERLUDE

SNOWMAN

Aut inveniam viam aut faciam....I shall either find a way or make one.

One would believe that being an Atlantean God would have way more perks than downfalls. That ultimate power and a presence that demands respect would make a being complete. What isn’t factored in though, is the reality. Reality of what it truly is to be a “God” and the darkness that all entails.

Acheron is far from your typical royal deity, even though he was born into a life of privilege from a young age he learned the downside of that privilege, and what exactly it means to sacrifice. Born into a family that was far from a solid unit Acheron learned as a young colt to embrace greed. Another colt near Acheron’s age, Titan, had also embraced greed and had his sights set on becoming the lead of the family herd- something that was Acheron’s by right of birth.

Acheron grew, and as he grew he found a reason for his being in the form of a young mare named Apollymi. A beautiful creature who had unfortunate circumstance to be born the daughter of a mad stallion. She became Acheron’s most prized possession, his Goddess of Life, Death, and Wisdom. She became his source of all that was good.

As they grew life became a competition for Acheron and Titan. When greed is fought by greed the outcome became destructive. Until one day Titan did the unthinkable and plotted against Acheron. To enslave the now young stallion, to take from him his freedom. Threatening the safety of the herd, namely Apollymi, Titan made Acheron choose: either their entire herd would be submitted to slaving for the two-legs or offer himself as tribute and sacrifice his own freedom, and birthright instead.

The young stallion did first noble thing he had ever done, he sacrificed. Gave up his throne, his title, and his love. He became a slave to the two-legs.

And thus would set off a series of events that would alter Acheron’s world and creating the God of woe with a thirst for vengeance...

This did not turn out a tall like I thought it would, but it was fun to write! This is the first time I've written anything "sci-fi ish" haha

No one could understand why he stayed. Everyone warned him he needed to leave, that there was nothing he could do. The world had moved on they said, but he did not listen.

                The snow started falling earlier and earlier every year, until it was just constant. The cold had changed everything. Apples can't grow when it's this cold. Nothing can grow when it's this cold. Yet everyday he went out and tacked up that Mule to pull the apple cart to the trees. Every day the man would see that the trees had bore no fruit, and would untack the mule and let him go to pasture. The mule's pasture, while never a great expanse of land, had used to be a sizeable piece of land with grass and shade in abundance. Not anymore. He was lucky to get ever half of what he needed to eat in a day anymore. The man had to start buying hay, although that was becoming harder and harder. Without any apples to grow, the man had to apples to sell. Without any apples to sale, you can image it became more difficult for him to afford to pay to feed the mule. But he couldn't let the mule go. The mule was the one keeper. He had told the mule that after his first day at work, and the mule, although known for listening very seldom to what the man had said, had heard that.

                It had taken the man years to find the right horse for the job, and in the end it hadn't even been a horse to get the job. Most horses lack the stubborn nature stay where they needed to, and donkey's are so stubborn they would refuse to move from where they rested. He needed a special animal, one that wouldn't leave. It wasn't only apples that resided in the orchard. It was only of the reasons the man did not mind living alone with just the mule and himself for company - he was never really alone. When he had found the mule, he was amazed by how willing to work the animal was. Although he had some of the characteristics of a mule, he was hardheaded, tough, and at times too willful for the man's taste. However, he enjoyed his job. He enjoyed taking the cart through the trees everyday to see if any apples had grown overnight. It started happening less and less, and the odd occurrences more and more.

                The problem with the other animals the man had was that they noticed these odd occurrences. They would be at work, happy to be with the man who was always kind to his animals, when all of a sudden they would stop, ears pricked forward, snorting. The man would urge the animals forward, but none of them trusted him enough to It would always happen right at the edge of the orchard, right at the line were the apple trees stopped growing. On the one occasion a particularly good horse of the man's took a step further than any of the other animals, it immediately tore back in horror, ripping the reins out of the man's hands and galloped back to the barn. The next day, the horse was willing to walk one less step towards the edge of the property. The day after, one less step. This went on for weeks until the man had lost a large portion of his land. He eventually had to let the horse go. The poor thing, once an incredibly level headed, strong beast, had been reduced to a skinny shaking mess.

                The mule, when at the edge of the orchard, would stop and look back at the man with calm eyes. The man urged the mule forward, ready to hold onto the reins as tight as he could in case something went wrong, but all the mule would do was keep his leg up as if to take a step forward, and put his foot back down. He would not go farther. The man urged harder, but the mule would look back at him and give the man a look that said there was no way he was going to go farther. He would not tear the reins away and he would not leave, but it wasn't going to go farther than he was allowed. It was still the man's property, but try as he might he could not get any apple trees to grow on this part of land. It was a small patch and so the man was willing to chalk it up to bad soil. Or he would have been, if that was the only problem with the edge of the property, but it wasn't. There was also the horrible, unshakeable feeling that on the edge of the property was never empty.

                There was always something just there, waiting, hoping that something would come where it should not have so it could claim more. That was how it had claimed so much of the rest of the world. Destroying it so that nothing could grow, so that nothing would ever come back. It was happening more places all over the world, and when it did, there was nothing to be done but to move on. It was inevitable, with man's natural tendency to go where they don't belong. Therefore, it was not shocking when people started being claimed as well. Slowly, more and more people just started no longer, well, they just stopped being around. They would take one step too far into where they didn't belong, and then the next day they would be gone. Claimed. It wasn't a horrific or dramatic event, at the start it was. But eventually people just started to accept that as to why they would wake up with their friends or family members gone. They had taken a step too far.

                It was only a matter of time before the man made the mistake of walking where he did not belong. Him and the mule were out one day, walking around in search of any signs of new life on his property, when he slipped. He shouldn't have been that close to the edge, and he should have known there would be ice on the ground, but he was tired. So tired. The world was just exhausting at this point. When he took that fateful step, he took his foot back quickly, but he knew it was too late. He looked at the mule who looked back with solemn eyes. They both knew. The man, walked away from the mule and went and sat just past the edge of the property, waiting for whatever it was to take him away. The mule went home. He knew what he had to do. The man had told him.

                It wasn't a difficult job, but it was a diligent one. Every day he would walk out to the edge of the property, tack and all, and stare into the what was past. The mule would lift a leg as if he was going to step past the threshold, but never would. He knew he couldn't. He knew his job. He was the orchard's keeper, and he took that job very seriously.

O’Death’s Story

            Since the beginning of time two things are certain; there has always been life, and always been death. The old ways and traditions emphasize the celebration of both life and death. Those who have passed greeted death as a friend and were thanked by those who stayed for allowing their lives to continue on.

Life in their pack went on this way for many years, until one summer afternoon. She was a young pup, beautiful as she was strong. Her bravery was unmatched, which was why she was brought on her first hunt younger than most wolves. Excited energy rippled through the group as they waited for everyone to come together. She waited in the front of the pack next to her father, who was the pack’s leader. Her father felt apprehensive about letting her hunt so young, but after relentless begging from her for weeks he finally caved. Her father allowed her to come on the hunt so long as she did not leave her father’s side. As the last stragglers joined the group, her father growled lowly. When the group settled she and her father lead the way into the forest. The rest of the pack followed closely, slowly breaking off into smaller groups and heading in other directions.

As time passed she grew more impatient. It felt to her like years had passed since they left the clearing. She and her father had not found any scent trails to follow nor heard the howls of her brothers and sisters announcing their successes. Although her frustration continuously grew as time went on, she felt a sense of relief. She wanted to be the one to catch their meal and show her father how silly he was to have doubted her ability to hunt.

Her father stopped in front of her, nose pointed west. She drew in quick, deep breaths and caught the same scent, a buck that could not have been more than a hundred yards away. Her father looked at her sternly and she understood. Stay low and stay behind me. She burst with excitement and nerves as they crept towards their meal. When her father finally stopped, she almost ran into him. She peered around her father and saw it, just ahead of them in a small clearing was a giant buck. The pair began creeping forward again when she accidently stepped on a twig with a loud snap. The buck shot up, wide-eyed and began to flee from the clearing. He did not make it more than a few steps before he was pulled backward by a rope tied to a nearby tree. Panicked wails bounced off the trees. Her father stayed there, half crouched, eyeing the frantic beast. She whined at her father, wondering why they had not attacked yet. Her father looked at her and started back the way they came. She stood there dumbfounded. Here was a meal, practically dead already, and he was walking away. She whined again. Her father snapped and growled at her, continuing to walk away. She looked back at the buck, which had begun to settle down out of exhaustion.

She smelt the blood from the buck’s leg, which had been broken from the force of being pulled back. She licked her lips as hunger rumbled in her stomach. She glanced back to see that her father had disappeared into the forest. Without another moment’s hesitation, she sprinted towards the buck. When she was no more than a few paces away from the buck she felt the ground shift beneath her. She yelped as the ground completely gave way.

She felt nothing but pain in her left side when she felt solid ground beneath her paws again. She turned her head and noticed a sharp stick had gone cleanly through her left side under her ribs. She cried out in pain, hoping that her father would hear her. Within moments she could hear the apprehensive steps of her father nearing the hole. When her father’s face finally appeared, she felt a rush of relief. Her father braced himself to slide into the hole when suddenly he froze, perking his ears. Terror filled his eyes as he stood there. It was not much longer until she heard what had made her father pause. Thundering sound of hooves through the forest. The sound of humans approaching. Her father's ears fell against his head and he let out a small whine. He was thanking her for her passing. She screeched with sounds of terror, begging her father to help her, to not let her die. Her father's expression changed to sorrow and regret before he turned and ran away from the hole, her grave. Her world tilted as she laid there, hearing the humans grow closer and closer. She felt hopeless, laying there she remembered the few short years she had lived. She was not ready to die. She lifted herself up slowly until the searing pain caused her to fall back down. She could hear the hollering and whistling of the humans now. She gritted her teeth and stood up as quickly as she could. In that one swift movement, she felt the stick tear out of her. She felt a wet sticky fluid rush from her side. With no time to assess what the fluid was, she began to clamber up the least steep side of the hole. She had not made it more than halfway when she began to slip. Huffing for air he braced herself on the slope. She heard the humans dismount their horses and begin to walk towards the hole. The sheer terror that filled her caused her body to find the energy to sprint up the remaining distance of the slope. As she made t over the entrance to the hole, she found herself looking down the barrel of a gun. Without hesitation she pushed her way through the human with the gun and tore off into the forest. She ran and ran until she tripped over a fallen tree. She tried to stand, but her legs would not move. As she laid on her side on the cool forest floor, she began to feel the need for sleep. Black dots danced around the edges of her vision but she refused to let her eyes close.

When the day wore into night she noticed a presence. Death sat on the tree across from her. She tried to move but nothing happened. Fear filled her body as she laid there motionless, but Death did not move. Hours passed as the two were still in the forest watching each other. She finally let out a weak whine.

"Shhh" Death cooed. "I'm not here to take you with me." She looked at him confused. There were no tales of Death tricking her kind, but there were also no tales of her kind running away either. Death cleared his throat. "I'm here to offer you eternal life in exchange for a service. Never in my time have I seen any of your kind so eager to run away from me. I can't say the same for others however, which is why I am here. You showed great determination to keep yourself alive, so I have no doubt that you won't hesitate to trade the life of another for your own."

She growled in response.

"Exactly" Death continued. "And as you can imagine it is quite tiresome to have to chase down those who do not want to die. So my offer is this, I will allow you to live if you agree to chase down those who run away from me." With his last words he turned and began to walk away. After a few paces he looked over his shoulder. "Come on girl" he called. With that she rose from her resting place and followed him into the night.

As time has passed her true name has been forgotten. Those who plead with her to spare their life begin with "O Death" so often she has begun to think that is her name. Til this very day those who run still see her because every time, she chooses her life over theirs’.

Sorry about the lateish response on mine! The first few times I posted it, it showed up as a blank comment. :O

King Ceasar

I would like to introduce you all to my Real Life dog Caesar. C is a Long Coated Akita and has both American and Japanese breeding in his lines. C is no longer a young puppy and will celebrate his 9th Birthday this year. Sadly he does have a lot of health issues; He has conjunctivitis, Small hips, Arthritis, Paralysis tick treatment (where we almost lost him) and even has had surgery on his cruciate ligament (Which was 6 month rehabilitation and a lot of lifting for me!).

My main reason that I choose C for my mascot entry, wasn’t just because he is my dog, but because like a LOT of our players on HP C also suffers from an Auto Immune Disease. He suffers from Sebacous Adentis (SA). 

SA is mostly a Cosmetic issue more than a physically debilitation one. SA is a skin condition where Antibodies attack and permanently destroy the sebaceous glands (oil secreting glands that open into the hair follicles on the skin). The symptoms vary but usually include irreversible and progressive hair loss, thick scaly skin, secondary skin infections and crusty skin lesions. There is no cure. We have also personally found that when this flares up that he does become very depressed! 

Thankfully there is an amazing Akita community out there and there are a few success stories! Every fortnight C is washed and groomed and once a month I rub him all over with baby or coconut oil, before washing him the next day. This as well as changes to his diet has helped his skin and coat immensely not to mention to help with his energy levels and personality!

For all the Auto Immune suffers here on HP, this Mascot is for you! 

Here is a photo album showing different stages of his condition - http://imgur.com/a/VPSEj

-Sorry for the delay in posting this - But had sent it to Sam earlier this week and hadnt been on at all this weekend.

sorry its late sam, i did msg you on the 12th but theve been ready since before the contest.

sorry for my poor speelling and grammer guys -let this be a lesson boys and girls, english (or your countries grammer class) is important so learn it-

Willem

A long time ago in a country far away a young Perlino AQH colt was born. For a time he was happy and loved by his heard but then a drought came upon the land and as he was so beautful and desired he was sold by his heard to the underworld assasin's guild. He was impression in a dark, cold and damp cave for many years, brainwashed to beleive that he was worth nothing, that no one loved him and no one would miss him when he died. When he finially grew into a strong and beutiful stallion he was not the hopeful wide eyed colt he had once been and he would do anything for the assasin's.

A few years passed and he became a skilled and efficient assasin and smuggler for the giuld and as such was sent away to a brand new country to open up a trade route there as well as take care of anyone who may stand in the guild's way. Here he made a partnnership with a small iron grey stallion named Tori who wanted to use Willem to overthrow his countries ruler's and make him top stallion. As he would pay dearly for his services and if it was succesfull he would acomplish both of his guilds objective's so he readly agreed.

One night as he was walking through the red light district on his way back to his secluded meadow he came upon a little white mare with striking pink mane and tail in trouble about to be sold to an okiya against her will. Struck by her unique beauty he was compled to rescue her. So he paid for her to be released to him and took her back to his meadow. Upon asking her name, Yuki devolged her entire sad story to Willem. Yuki had been born on a cold winter day and had been named for the snow that had fallen that day, she had been raised by love from her parents until just that very night when out of the blue they had been murdered in front of Yuki who had been hiding in the bushes. Scared and unsure what to do she had wondered into the red light district by accident and fell pray to a horse traffickerand it was at this point Willem had shown up, she also told Willem that she had heard one f the stallion's who had killed her parents mention Tori's name and was set on acheiving justice for them. Feeling en-debited to Willem Yuki offered herself as a maid for his meadow and unable to deny the honest mare he accepted her offer and they began living together.

Over time he grew close to Yuki and although never sharing with her at first about his true intentions in her country. One day out of curiousity Yuki followed Willem, when she saw him talking with Tori she was heart broken and made her way back to the meadow to sulk. When Willem came back that day he noticed the depressed Yuki and after a bit of prodding got out of her the truth. He decided then to tell her everything he had been through. After finishing his story he was sure that she would leave him just like the stallion's of the guild always told him but he was surprised to see her crying for him. Yuki told Willem that it didnt matter what was in his past what mattered to her was that she loved him but she knew that as long as he held ties to the assasin's she could not take out her justice on Tori. Willem so touched by Yuki's confession decided to take his life into his own hooves and break free of the assasin's guild and Tori.

The night came when Tori was supposed to make his move, it was dark and misty. Willem had made all his plans and if tonight went the way he wanted it too he could not only help Yuk get her revenge bu brake free of the assasin's guild once and for all. The local enforcers had been notified of the plot to bring down the herd's leaders and had scattered themself throughout the outlining forests around the main meadows watching and waiting for Tori to make his move. Willem waited in the middle of the meadow with Yuki behind him. At midnight Tori showed up at the meadow, he was shocked to see Yuki there beleving her to have died with her parents. Yuki declared herself not afraid of Tori and attacked him but as a mare ahe could deal the finishing blow so Willem did it for her.

After the enforcers had taken care of all of Tori's supporting colt's they came to Willem and Yuki's meadow to talk about his future in this country. As the dawn broke across the valley and the mist cleared and all had been said and done the enforcers decided that although Willem had initally come to support Tori in his ambitins of becoming the sole ruler of this land his efforts in stopping that had not gone unnoticed and altough they would keep an eye on him for many years to come he could stay with Yuki here in this land. Willem then put into action braking free of the assasin's guild but alais he would have to leave for a time and go back to his own country to do this.

A few months passed and the cold winter that Willem had left Yuki turned into a warm and bautiful spring, everyday Yuki went to the big cherry tree in the mddle f the main meadow hoping that this day would be the day Willem would return to her. Not one word had been heard from Wilem or of his whereabouts but Yuki knew within her heart that he was alive and would return to her. One day through the last showering of cherry blossom's Willem returned to Yuki and annouced that he was successful in braking his ties with the assasin's uild and asked her if she would mind being with him forever. Yuki so happy to have Willem back gladly accepted and they went back to there meadow to live happily ever after.

Yukiya

Yukiya was born the lone silver grey pup of his pack that year, being the only pup in the pack he was treated with due care and treasured above all else. The following year the pack had so many pup's that the young Yukiya was tasked to keep watch over them so all the adult's could hunt for them. As the years rolled on Yukiya grew into a fine wolf and doted on all the pack's pup's staying behind to protect them rather than go on the hunt with the rest of his pack.

One autumn day as Yukiya was watching that years pup's a group of rouge wolves entered the part of the forest where there den was hidden, sensing danger Yukiya hid the pup's on the den and told them no matter what they were not to come out and pushed a big rock in front of the opening. He then walked up the mountain to the cave of the bear-wolf, he knew it was forbidden to enter this place but alone with all this year's pup's to protect he broke the pack's long held tradition and entered the cave. There he found the bear-wolf sealed inside, the bear-wolf made a pact with Yukiya that he would lend him his strength in return for a body to reside in. Not knowing what the bear-wolf meant and running out of time Yukiya rashly accepted the bear-wolf pact and was possessed by the bear-wolf. 

Many hour's later as the sun was setting Yukiya awoke to the sound of whining pup's, disorientated and confused he tried to stand up. That's when he noticed the smell of wolf blood in the air, as his eye's focused he saw all the rogue wolves dead, torn to pieces around him and Yukiya realized that he must have done this. He quickly went down to the stream to wash the blood off his coat it was then he noticed a change in his reflection. His left eye now had a magic circle in it rather than the pupil of his right, knowing this was the sign of the curse from he bear-wolf he fashioned himself an eye-patch before returning to release the pup's from the den.

Upon's the pack's return that night Yukiya explained the mountain of dead wolves as the result of a bear wondering into there territory just as the rogue wolves had and that he had hidden himself with the pup's when asked about the eye-patch Yukiya just responded that he had hurt it when trying to keep the pups's safe and as none of the pup's were injured the pack let the strange incident slid under the rug for now.

As the first full moon after the pact approached Yukiya began to feel sick and tired all the time worried he may have become ill he removed himself far from the pack to wait for it to pass. Then on the night of the full moon he felt himself transform into a massive black bear-wolf and then blacked out. When the dawn came Yuikya awoke in a part of the forest he did not know, when he stood up he found himself surrounded by a whole heard of dead caribou . Scared that he was now a danger to his pact he ran away from his country to a far away place and vowed never to return.

After a long hard winter alone on his journeying he happened upon a strange land with the first hints of spring int the air. The land seemed to bustle with hidden magic and Yukiya started to hope that in this strange new land he would find a way to brake his pact with the bear-wolf. One day when walking Yukiya heard the beautiful howling song of a female of nearby and decided to investigate. He knew it was foolish as he was still dangerous during the full moon but the song drew him in. As he entered a clearing he spotted a russet wolf standing on a rock in the middle of the clearing happily howling her song. Yukiya was entranced by her immediately, he approached her carefully not wanting to disturb her singing. After finishing her song the russet wolf surprised him by turning to him and introducing herself as Miriam.

Miriam went on to tell Yukiya her whole life story then and there, it turned out that she too was all alone in the world after an epidemic killed her parents as well as most of the pack, being a fully grown if small wolf Miriam decided to head out on her own. It wasn't long before she found this land and decided she would spend her days here carefree and happy no matter what. Yukiya was stunned but her, not only was she pretty but optimistic too it was almost like happiness rolled off her in waves. But he knew he could not stay with her for to long for if he did he would put her in danger so as to try and discourage the eager Miriam from following him he became cold and distant and stayed on the fridges of the clearing.

Time went by and he stayed in the glen with Miriam, every full moon he would leave and lock himself away in a cave far away from the glad Miriam lived in so as not to hurt her, but he never tried to cross the invisible wall he built between them it was enough for Yukiya just to hear her happy song every day. One day as the full moon approached Miriam walked over to Yukiya and asked him where he went to every month around this time. Yukiya plainly said that was none of her business and went off to his cave, but this time Miriam secretly followed him. When she saw how he would roll a big rock across the entrance to the cave from the inside she sniffed around the cave to see if she could find another way in but alias there was none so she left Yukiya alone.

During the whole next month Yukiya noticed that Miriam would leave the glen for day's at a time but as she always returned he decided that she must have just been scouting for fresh game to hunt and let her be. As the full moon approached Yukiya left for his cave and again was followed by Miriam, after he had slid the rock into place she went around to the hle she had secretly dug and snuck inside the cave. Yukiya smelled her scent and at first thought he was dreaming but then he felt her presence and took a good look around inside the cave, it was not long before he found her. Annoyed and worried for her safety he demanded she leave right away and fill the hole behind her but Miriam refused to budge until Yukiya told her why he locked himself away in a cave every full moon.

Yukiya told Miriam all about the rouge wolves and the pact with the bear-wolf and how he transformed into a mindless beast at the full moon. Miriam just sat and listened and when Yukiya had finished she said that although she understood his fears the fact that he would go so far to protect her just proved that he was in control and would never hurt her, and with that miriam planted herself at Yukiya's feet and waited for the moon to rise. The long dark night seemed to drag on forever and despite Miriam's calm acceptance of Yukiya's curse Yukiya was scared he may hurt her, it was not until he heard the first bird of dawn start to sing there songs that he realized he had got through the full moon without transforming. Miriam came up to him and said that as long as she was by his side he would never have to worry about transforming because she knew he loved her enough to stop himself.