Boarding Activity Check: SEPTEMBER 2009

[Wyndlily Sharphowl]

In order to keep your stall at Four Star Farms, you must post a full roleplay log here once a month. This is to ensure that stalls are only taken up by active members of our community. If you fail to post a roleplay log, your stall will be removed in the next dream update and you will have to apply to board here all over again.

There is a new topic made for each month. In the first post, you'll see a list of all of the horses currently boarding at FSF. When you've completed your roleplay for the month, simply copy/paste the logs into a reply to that post. Your name will be crossed out on the list and you will be all set until the next month.


ROLEPLAY RULES

--The roleplay must take place at Four Star Farms.
--The roleplay may be with *any* character, as long as it is not your own. You can roleplay with staff, another boarding horse, a feral cat, whatever.
--The roleplay may be with more than two people.
--The roleplay must consist of at least three posts from each person involved.
--If two boarded horses roleplay with each other, it counts for BOTH of them. However, each player needs to post the logfile themselves. This ensures that you have an active, working forum account and that you are checking the forum regularly.
--When you first start boarding at FSF, your 'confirmation' roleplay with a staff member DOES count for your first month, but you must remember to post it here.

---

Horses boarded at FSF for the month of September 2009:

Devonshire
Royal Assault
Lady Gray
Kotori Chisholm
Flicka
Motley Crew
Regretful
Infringed
Moonlight Sonata


Reply here with your one required roleplay for the month of September!

[paparoach14]

The real Flicka threw her front hooves out a liitle. It wasn't enough to really freak Saera out for the most part. The mare then turned and snapped at her feet when she felt her heels. Flicka then whinnied and just bolted around the pen insted of walking like Saera wanted.

Saera knew she couldn't miraculously get Flicka to walk on like other horses, so her patience was not destroyed when the mare flung herself back into action. Instead, she embraced her horse's movements, leaning forward and urging her on while steering with her heels and arms. The reins were gathered up tightly in her hands, giving the mustang little room to maneuver her head. If she slowed only a bit, the feline would lean back in her seat and request a slower pace with her voice and posture.

The real Flicka tossed her head and continued to bolt. She wasn't going to slow down. Though Flicka did continue to turn and snap at Saera's feet. The mustang continued to bolt, until she slid to a stop and flung her backend up into the air.

Saera was slightly unprepared for the sudden halt and throw, but was-- in general-- learning the mare's common moves. She hugged the horse's neck to avoid being thrown, and recovered quickly to her previous position. Her feet were protected by her boots, which were deteriorating in appearance with each bite Flicka delivered.

The real Flicka whinnied and snorted when Saera wasn't flung off. The mustang landed and bolted some more. The mare then slid to stop once more and turned her head grabbing the toe of Saera's boot and grabbing hold of it not letting it go this time.

Saera was staying on with difficulty, but confidently, too. When the mustang grabbed hold of her boot firmly, pain shot up the back of her neck and she stiffened. To confuse the mare, she'd hold onto one rein, the outside one, firmly, and stick the targeted heel into her side with as much force as she could muster. If Flicka wanted to play dirty, Saera would stoop to her level for the sake of breaking her.

The real Flicka whinnied as the heel was pressed firmly into her side. She of course kept hold of the boot refusing to let go. Flicka did let go of the boot after a few minutes of Saera's heel pushing into her side. Afterwards she stood their snorting and tossing her head up a few times.

Saera thought of praising her horse for letting go, but decided otherwise-- she might confuse the praise for something else, like her wild behaviour. Instead, the girl repeated what she'd done last time: sat back in the saddle and urge her forward into a walk or trot, anything but gallop, to give her a chance to cool off. If she refused, Sae would go right on fighting with her.

The real Flicka continued to stand their. The ebony mustang whinnied and walked over toewards the fence and stood their. She clearly wouldn't do anymore. The corners of the mare's mouth were covered in white foam and drool. She was getting a bit warm.

Saera wished to stop as well, but wouldn't give in until her mare recognized that she gave the commands. "Walk on," she said, giving the reins just a bit of slack and digging in her heels appropriately. "just one round and we'll be done." Her word was the truth-- if Flicka walked the circle once, Saera would dismount; if not she would keep squeezing and clucking.

The real Flicka stamped her hoof. She clearly didn't want to go anywhere. Though she did move after a few minutes of standing their. Though she walked with her head down like she did the first few times Flicka was saddled.

Saera, when they finished the round, leaned back in her saddle and let out a long, "whoaaa." She gave the glossy black neck a good pat, and dismounted as promised. Taking the reins over the lowered head, she gripped them attentively, watching the exhausted animal. Reaching into her pocket, she extracted a handful of oats and offered them gently.

The real Flicka snorted and ate the oats in her hand. Her neck was a little wet from sweating. She then walked over towards the metal gate and pawed at it. Flicka also bent her head down and attempted to paw the bridle off her head.

Saera jerked at the lead to prevent the bridle from falling, and to cease the mustang's bad habbits. She held onto the reins at a closer proximity to her nose, and opened the gate to lead her back into the barn where they would hose her down. The mare was ascorted to the back of the main barn, where the hose and washing utilities were situated. If she allowed it without trouble, she'd be attached to the cross ties and untacked in preparation to be bathed.

The real Flicka followed Saera to the barn. Flicka did stand their as the cross ties were clipped to the brass cheeck rings of her halter. The mare hadn't really been bathed for awhile so Saera should expect her to spook a little.

Saera turned on the hose to its lowest power, and worked her way from the mare's hooves to her shoulders. She was sure to avoid her face completely while soaking both sides in luke warm water. Next she'd apply the specialist soap and shampoo, then rinse as directed. The bubbles soon dispersed and they were finished with the bathing entirely.

The real Flicka whinnied and moed her leg when the water touched it. She stood their for the rest of the bath clearly liking it. Once Saera was finished the mare shook off most of the extra water and snorted.

Saera snorted herself as she was covered by the excess water, grinning in spite of herself. "Flicka," she groaned jokingly, shaking the drops from her clothing and hair. Wiping off her face, she clipped on the horse's lead and led her to the familiarity of her stall, where she left her to dry or roll in the newly changed straw.

The real Flicka followed Saera back to her stall. Of course once she was fee she rolled around in the straw. Some of it stuck to her damp coat. She continued to lay their and dozed off for a light sleep.

Saera wished to nap, too, but knew there was work to be done in the barn. She set off doing her chores, and returned an hour and a half later to check on the black beauty. If she had woken up, the feline would offer her a few peppermints to nibble on, and if not she'd deposit them in her feed box for later.

The real Flicka contined to sleep when Saera came back. Themarw continued to sleep for another hour before getting up covered in straw and eating the peppermints out of the feed bucket.

Saera was yawning as she returned to Flicka's stall, but had company with her this time-- the farrier was in for a check up on her hooves. The feline sat on her stool outside to stall as the farrier entered, knowing the scene wouldn't be pretty. Nonetheless, she was optimistic that the farrier had dealt with temperamental horses before, though not many could compare to her.

The real Flicka whinnied and stamped her hoof when the farrier entred. The mare swung her right hind leg at him. She didn't want him touching her.

[chisholm]

Chisholm had been turned out to pasture after having had her daily warm up riding. Nothing too extreme, just the usual warm ups by one of the warm up riders. She longed for a good long stroll on a trail or something, anything really with her owner, whom she hadn't been ridden by in a while it seemed. Only the trainers, warm up riders, and stablehands were her human interaction for the time being. And no other horses for a while either, except for the occasional horse in the next stall or neighboring paddock. Mare grazed blissfully in the paddock during this day. Ruby mane fell alongside her neck as her muscles were relaxed in cool temperatures the young Autumn was bringing in.

Leyanna Bravin was walking along the paddock fences, admiring all the horses when she came upon one containing an overo mare. The female human stopped and turned for a better look. Looked like a Nokota mare from where she could see. How pretty. She seemed almost anxious to get out for a ride. Leyanna smooched to the mare, wondering if she'd come near.

Chisholm didn't notice the human walking by until she stopped and made a noise toward her. Attention was caught, and mare lifted her head to view the human, still chewing a mouthful of grass as she did such. Tail whipped about, fighting off the buggers that pestered her coat. In a bit of pent up energy, mare tossed her head as the human remained near the fences. White face lowered a bit, turning the head about to let the light eyes get a better view of the light haired girl. It obviously wasn't Winnie, nor any other human or furre she knew of. Attire was different as well, which left the four year old curious as to who this was and just what they wanted with her.

Leyanna Bravin slid her hands into the pockets of her black jacket. She didn't know why she was stopping. Maybe just because she was different--not the usual Thoroughbred and such. She crossed her ankles and watched the mare with random interest.

Chisholm wasn't usually the one to show off for bystanders, but with energy galore, mare took advantage of the onlooker. Nokota tossed her head again, inevitably making a ruby mane shine and glow in the setting sun, then pulled up a front limb and began pawing at the ground. Not a dominant stance like a stallion might take in a prequel to charging about, but Chizzy did do a bit of romping in the field. Mare cantered about the paddock, showing off her smooth gait, and billowing tail as it ebbed and flowed with every bound. Once showing off was done, she'd return closer to the fence; close enough to catch a better scent of the female human. Taking in that she was definitely no a human she had ever encountered before.

Leyanna Bravin smiled at the mare's little show. She clucked, wondering if she'd come closer. "Pretty horse, aren't you?" she murmured in a soft voice, lifting her arms to the top of the fence to rest her heart-shaped head upon them.

Chisholm listened as the human's noises and voice caught her ears again. Mare decided to humor this person who spoke with a soft voice. Taking a few steps closer to the fence again, Chizzy lifted her muzzle to begin sniffing at the human's face, head and hands as she rested them on the fence. Seeing no harm in staying that close to the fence, roan mare remained. She'd drop her muzzle down now, back towards eye level as she looked at the human again, watching where her hands were. Mare remained still and relaxed, and would probably let the human pet her head and forelock if she wished to since the human showed much interest in this horse.

Leyanna Bravin held out her hand for the mare to stuff. Once she did she would reach up slowly to stroke the mare's soft muzzle. As she did so, she continued murmuring random nonsense in a quiet voice. She still didn't know why she was actually interested in the mare. But "why" wasn't too important of a question.

Chisholm allowed the human to stroke her muzzle as she'd blow into the human's hand. Attention was welcomed from time to time when it was in short supply, even if it was from someone she didn't know. Normally, the horse only trusted a few select humans and furres, that being her owner, of course, and the usual stablehands and trainers she saw on a day to day basis. Passerby's were normally ignored if the mare was out in the paddock, but this one seemed to admire her special coat and talents. Nokota would remain there, accepting the attention for as long as it was given.

[agnes1923]

Espírito ambled along the cobblestone path, her small hooves occasionally catching in the crevices between the solid stones. After her dam had died during the summer she had been orphaned, now wandering the lands of the humans, she was born somewhere like here so it seemed the logical place to hide and get food as it was always here. Surviving your third month of life alone was tough and now starting her fourth winter was well on its way.Soon the little lady would come to a halt, some foolish human had left the gate closed, but not bolted but the horse inside seemed not to have noticed. Mini grey walked to the gate, curiously nudging it a moment and then setting her wee head on the railings and making a pathetic excuse for a whinny to the mare.


Regretful. Dove lipped at the emerald blades, yellowing "swords" cut up the bits, devouring the grasses. Mare would keep chewing, but raise her head at the whinny. Was it her colt? He has not been seen in such awhile, so she was sure he was dead. Looking up, and turning, ears pricked forward, she would make an attempt to sniff the filly. Then she noticed the unlocked gate, and would nudge it, opening it if the filly would move.


Espírito pushed her muzzle in, a small charcoal covered snudge with a tiny pink snip. She was far too small for her age not looking it at all. The mare seemed to have noticed the little foal, she neighed shaking her tall standing mane then as the mare approached she made a quiet low nicker and moved back when the gate was nudged by the larger mare.


Regretful backed up, then started grazing. Teats that were originally for her colt were still full with milk, she whickered to the tiny being, glancing at her once in awhile. Ears flickered, tail swished slightly.


Espírito pushed her way through the small gap as the mare walked away and began grazing again, weak as expected she was glad of a comfortable place and enviroment to rest in for a while. Cautious of the mare she stayed away for now.


Regretful continued grazing, she lifted her head, and obserbed the foal. Weak looking. Could use some food.. She gave an encouraging whinny, and offered her some milk.


Espírito big dopey ears perked up, she used her lanky young legs to get her up and approached the mare submissively with her small head down. She stopped beside her and then attempted to suckle from her, she was starving but she wouldn't hesitate to run if rejected.


Regretful lifted her head again, and watched the filly. A soft encouraging whicker was emitted, ears flicked. The mare made no move to reject or chase her away.


Espírito with encouragement would begin suckling, something her dam would have provided back when she was alive. Unfortunately since her death the foal had had to scrape by by eating whatever she could chew on, but her teeth and body were not properly developed now, she was not as big as she should be nor as strong. She was too tired to suckle for long and after a while she would move away again and huddle up to the fence.


Regretful decided to come over to the filly, and lay next to her. Careful not to lay on her, she left about an inch or so of space, and watched out for danger, head up, eyes alert.


Espírito lay with her wee twig legs curled underneath her and her wee head resting on her side, it didn't look terribly comfortable. When the mare lay down beside her she didn't move, just pressing herself against the cold wire.


Regretful. Stablehands approached the pasture. One slipped a halter over the mare's head, and clipped a lead. Assuming the filly was the mare's, another made an attempt to either herd her along, or slip a halter on her head, and clip a lead on. If successful, they'd lead them to the barn.


Espírito's ears perked as the stable hands arrived and came in, as soon as they did she seemed to jerk to get up suddenly, well she almost did but got stuck at the last wee bit. Then go back a wee bit and then up completely.She then walked off as the humans approached, her wee thin ribcage swaying where a nutritioned belly should have been.She would refused to let them halter her, she didn't like that. When they started to try and herd her she got herself in a real state, running backwards and forwards in the space of her own body length and then moving to another spot and doing the same.


Regretful. The other stable hand started to lead the mare away, then halted her to watch. Reg gave a whinny, encouraging her to come. The man still tried to chase her out, and towards the mare, hoping the filly would follow her.


Espírito continued jumping from side to side, churning up the grass untill she eventually slipped. Getting herself back up she ran over to the larger mare and was practically hiding underneath her.


Regretful. The stablehand started the mare off, in hops of the filly following. The man followed the filly, until they were brought to the mare's stall. They patted the mare, and gave her a horsecookie made out of apples.


Espírito followed at first but put on the breaks at the entrance to the barn. She just seemed to freeze and refuse to enter, what a strange and scary enviroment this was for her none of the others could possibly understand. She just wasn't going in there, whether she was left behind or not she was too scared to go in.


Regretful. The stablehands continued trying to herd the filly in the barn. Another stablehand approached, they tried to corner the frail being, and either pick her up, or get a lasso over her head. The mare was halted, she waited patiently, whinnying to the filly every so often.


Espírito refused to budge a step untill the stablehand tried to lift her and then she would run and bundle herself up like a rabbit under the mare.


Regretful lifted her feet carefully as she was lead on. The strongest stablehand again tried to lift her, and carry her into the mare's stall. "Come on." He muttered.


Espírito was suddenly hoisted into the air like a wounded lamb by the human, wriggling her body frantically at first.


Regretful layed near her jolly ball, the humans let them both go, and quickly locked the stalldoor. The mare closed her eyes, and started to sleep


Espírito however was not too pleased with her confinement instead taking to pacing up and down the front wall anxiously


Regretful. The mare was content in sleep, ears flickered, peltage rarely twitched. She whickered once or twice in sleep, then awoke after awhile to watch the filly.


Espírito continued to pace along the stall,stopping once or twice to do a strange sort of half rear and bang the walls with her flailing legs. Obviously this would do next to no damage anyway but the obviously distressed foal had been through too much and started getting herself in a right state. She continued pacing and then frustrated she went over and nipped Regretful


Regretful gave a light nip back, and stood, offering milk. She continued to look about, the filly definatly wasn't her colt, but where had he gone. She gave a loud, long whinny; it echoed about the stable.


Espírito flinched and squeaked, then giving a small kick with her back feet in frustration and walking over to the stall door again to begin battering it, she didn't like it in here.


Regretful whinnied again, halfrearing, lashing out at jollyball. A stablehand came, a stupid one at that. He put his fingers in the bars, wagging them at the foal, "Whudda Whudda cutie!"