walking dead, (open)

[APOCALYPTIC ZOMBIE]

can you survive the apocalypse hoard..

He had arrived that morning padded up like a bomb hoping that it wouldn't hit the floor unexpectedly. For those around him most thought he was injured or recovering, though that wasn't the case. The colt was dubbed dangerous but the persistence of his owners drove him to race. His bloodline was blue and had all the makings of a good runner, the only question was could he run? Zombie knew he could run as he had done it many time within his own pasture back at home in Australia. Oh how he missed his home. The dry air, the various smells down to the last gum tree and snorts of his mother. It was all gone now, taken from him the day he sold to the country he was now in. His mother promised him that gold things would come to him and that maybe one day he would return to her in time. All he had to do, was win. Snorting out loud, the dark colt looked over the tallest bar of his paddock over to where his stall was located.

His handlers glanced over at him unsure as to what to expect of him but hoped for nothing. He wasn't going to try anything crazy, well not now at least. There would be no sense in causing chaos in a place of somewhat freedom. It wasn't a dark stall nor a padded plane stall box that was for sure. Turning his attention away from his handler's, Zombie began to take in his surroundings allowing it all to melt under his skin. America was indeed different in many ways. Even down to the way the wind blew between his ears. These horses seemed babied as if they would be scared going into the gate or to the post. Back at home, they never had ponies or stall mates when it came to racing. Having one would be shameful and not to mentioned you always got picked at later for it back in the barns. He snorted at the thought.

He wouldn't let that happen. Swishing his tail at the annoyance of a fly the colt began to accept his fate as it had come. There wasn't anything he could do at this point to get him back to his original country, nor to his mother. He was a grown lad now and had to make his own name. There wasn't going to be his mother there to help him gain it nor his grand father before him. He would make his country proud. Zombie launched back on his hindquarters, letting out a shrill squeal to the sky before hitting the ground again in a spurt of energy. He may have looked wild but he was indeed broke. He bucked a little bit, kicking out with his hind feet not worried of hurting himself thanks to the thick white boots that caressed his legs warmly. It was his time of fun.

[AZAMITE]

Several days previously the dark bay filly had been moved, much to her distaste. There she had been, quietly doing as any filly of her stature should do, and they had put her into a trailer like some common nag and brought her to this place. Her mood had been sour since, and she wasn't the easiest horse to work with even in her better moods. But it was all because she didn't know their plan, once she realized she was here to hone her already strong skills for the track she would undoubtedly calm down once more. Or, at least, revert to her normal self.

The best way to describe her was distant. Despite the attempts of several handlers to get close to her since her arrival she had remained indifferent to them. The only time she showed a speck of interest in them and their plans was when they brought her feed, and even then it was only a brief acknowledgement. Why should a mere human be given her respect?

Seeing that they were getting nowhere and that the dark filly was in fact becoming more and more stubborn the longer she was left in her stall it had been decided that she would be let loose in the paddock for a few hours. At least there she could burn off some energy and, hopefully, realize that things weren't so bad here. She would settle given time, but with new handlers and the few she had bonded with at her old stable now gone she may as well have been a brick wall.

She stood quietly as the stable hand took hold of her halter, clipping on a lead rein before pulling her toward the stall door. She turned her head, seemed like she was about to refuse and then moved out and into the yard, quiet as ever. She wasn't exactly impressed by the loud, energy-wasting displays of some of the others her age and looked on them as lesser beings, giving them little more notice than a flicked ear as they made their attempts to grab attention, or whatever the point of the behavior was.

Soon enough they arrived at the pasture and the human released her. She moved confidently out onto the turf, her head and tail high as she trotted forwards and then she froze. Just over the fence, in the next pasture, there was another horse. They had dared deem this creature worthy of being close to her? Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment she considered ignoring him except... Well, he seemed almost as discontented as she.

"You're wasting your energy, you know." she commented blandly, her tone cold and unwelcoming. "If you wish to do something, at least make it something useful."

[APOCALYPTIC ZOMBIE]

can you survive the apocalypse hoard..

For being male, the colt hadn't seemed to notice when the filly had gained the next round pen a few yards away. Maybe it was his age or just the plain thought that he didn't care about those that were around him. He snorted, his ears flickering forward until the point they pinned back almost apart of his skull. "Useful isn't an option to those whom are locked up, Mate." He hissed deeply exposing his Australian accent clear upon the wind. Zombie's trance upon the filly was broken by a loud clap caused by one of his handlers a few more yards away trying to gain his attention. Nobody needed their athletes hurt. Zombie snorted at them before moving to the more vacant side of his paddock, his head lowered midways to his chest as he gazed out into the open longingly. He had to prove himself, he had to go home. He kept reminding himself before glancing back over at the filly.

There was no doubt she wasn't attractive nor sore to the eye but at his age, he could care less at that point. Lifting his head back up as the black colt began to paw the ground almost violently, chunks of the earth came up with each flex of his muscles. Even one had found the rump of his fellow filly, a smirk crossing his black mug. Maybe he couldn't touch her through the iron bars but he could manage a few ways. "Holy dooley, didn't mean for that to happen sheila." Zombie called out behind him knowing well that it was on purpose. It was only a matter of seconds however until one of his handlers had slipped a chain in over his nose through the bars before entering. So his fun had gained attention? His ears pinned back again as he began pulling back feeling the chain tighten across his nose and mouth. Why did the damn humans always have to ruin his fun.

[AZAMITE]

The way he spoke was odd, the strange brogue almost offensive to her audits which pinned quickly backwards, her dark eyes fixed upon him. Who did this colt think he was? She was certainly no mate of his. She was nothing to anyone in this ridiculous place, and he clearly got the wrong idea from her choosing to speak with him. Air exhaled sharply as she rolled her eyes, and yet still she watched him. He interested her, perhaps because he did have the guts to refer to her as mate. Of course, she didn't know that it was normal where he came from.

"Then surely the best option is to break free. Why allow lesser beings to make you feel trapped?" it was almost as if she was trying to get the colt into trouble, and maybe she was. She had no qualms about things such as these and with his antics starting once more she was beginning to lose interest anyway. She turned away, tearing up a little of the grass and in that moment she felt something hit her.

Her head snapped up and around to see the dirt on her clean hide and she looked to where it had come from. The colt, again? Oh, maybe he was more interesting than she had previously given him credit for though he clearly was not on her level. She moved to the fence, head over it as she stared at him for a long moment - watching the humans try to harness him. "Well, don't let them win then. Show them who is the superior creature."

[APOCALYPTIC ZOMBIE]

can you survive the apocalypse hoard..

Break free? Did the filly really think he was that incompetent? The colt snorted, throwing his massive head up to the sky in resistant. Sure he hated the humans, they took him from his mother and even his home country, but he knew running from them wouldn't solve anything either. It was just easier to toil with them. It's not like they could really overpower him if it came down to that. Feeling the continuous pressure coming from across his nose he could feel himself shutting down, ounce by ounce. Did they really want some trouble out of him? Within a split second, the colt brought himself into the air. His massive black body screaming and lashing out into the sky causing those whom had the line to drop it in fear of him coming back down on them. Humans knew this was a dangerous sport and this was why.

Coming back down to the ground the massive colt snorted, still holding his head up high as if he warned them not to do it again. He hated the chain. Every time they used it on him made him feel as if his nose was cracking under the pressure. He would not tolerate that. Standing in the place he came down the colt watched curiously as one of his handlers quickly changed the chain over clipping it under his halter as if he was just an average horse. This was getting better. He was training them. Smirking somewhat, the colt walked away from his handlers as if nothing had happened as they did as well. They left him to be in his paddock. "I don't have to, this blokes are easier to train than the ones back home." His voice slipped from his chest as his head rested on the top bar of the portable turn out.

The mare beside him was nothing but trouble and now he knew. She was nearly just like him. He liked that. Flaring his nostrils to gather his missed air, his sides grew and fell as quickly as they had started. It wasn't long until he had caught his breath and now was completely focused on the filly. "My name is Zombie, what's yours shelia?" She didn't seem to be like most of the newest fillies showing up at the training center. She wasn't dainty nor required her handlers to wait on her every wim like the pampered show horse they were. This filly was the real deal.