Silverheart's History
Silverheart was born to Boreas (Mustang), a grulla rabicano and Denali Frost (Arabian), a grulla on an equestrian farm in Chugach, Alaska. Her father was captured and used as a stud for the farm, where he met her mother, the best brood at the farm. Unfortunately, the humans were not impressed with their production, and her father was shot dead by the human because he was apparently not a good enough producer, and her mother was locked up in a pen, only able to see her daughter Silverheart once every three day. The lack of food that she got made her very unhealthy.
When was almost two, they humans packed her up in a trailer and dropped her off at Brooks Range, Alaska, a large, nearly untouched part of Alaska that was part of the arctic circle. She stayed in a small, secluded cave she found. She would come out for up to ten minutes to get water and food. She did this up until her fourth year of life. That's when she started exploring and gaining muscle and enjoying her young life. Since then, she was a daredevil. She would tease the bears, play the wolves, and run with owls. Now, at eight-years-old, she is allied with the wolf pack, she babysits bear cubs, and her best friend is a snowy owl by the name of Qannik.
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Silverheart's silver pelt glowed like a sheet of platinum in the bright Alaskan sun, the heavy snow reflected on her belly and her eyes, making them shine a brilliant sky blue. Her long, dark grey mane, lined with white streaks, flowed heavily in the cold breeze. Her destination wasn't too far from where she was. She was stoked for what she would be in for when she arrived there. She was looking for a stallion, a herd, family... She left her home for this, she left her best friend Qannik, her allies, the Wolves, and the bear family she would spend time with at times.
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She arrived at a great green meadow, flourishing with horses and small animals. She saw several groups of mares, eyeing stallions, and vice versa. She stood in the clearing, her great, grulla fur and brilliant blue eyes sparkled. The sun burned her back and face, and her mane fell warmly on her neck as the sun burned that, too.
Silverheart was born to Boreas (Mustang), a grulla rabicano and Denali Frost (Arabian), a grulla on an equestrian farm in Chugach, Alaska. Her father was captured and used as a stud for the farm, where he met her mother, the best brood at the farm. Unfortunately, the humans were not impressed with their production, and her father was shot dead by the human because he was apparently not a good enough producer, and her mother was locked up in a pen, only able to see her daughter Silverheart once every three day. The lack of food that she got made her very unhealthy.
When was almost two, they humans packed her up in a trailer and dropped her off at Brooks Range, Alaska, a large, nearly untouched part of Alaska that was part of the arctic circle. She stayed in a small, secluded cave she found. She would come out for up to ten minutes to get water and food. She did this up until her fourth year of life. That's when she started exploring and gaining muscle and enjoying her young life. Since then, she was a daredevil. She would tease the bears, play the wolves, and run with owls. Now, at eight-years-old, she is allied with the wolf pack, she babysits bear cubs, and her best friend is a snowy owl by the name of Qannik.
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Silverheart's silver pelt glowed like a sheet of platinum in the bright Alaskan sun, the heavy snow reflected on her belly and her eyes, making them shine a brilliant sky blue. Her long, dark grey mane, lined with white streaks, flowed heavily in the cold breeze. Her destination wasn't too far from where she was. She was stoked for what she would be in for when she arrived there. She was looking for a stallion, a herd, family... She left her home for this, she left her best friend Qannik, her allies, the Wolves, and the bear family she would spend time with at times.
----
She arrived at a great green meadow, flourishing with horses and small animals. She saw several groups of mares, eyeing stallions, and vice versa. She stood in the clearing, her great, grulla fur and brilliant blue eyes sparkled. The sun burned her back and face, and her mane fell warmly on her neck as the sun burned that, too.