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Name Baime
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Species Equine
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Age Six
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Breed Anglo Arab (Thoroughbred x Arabian)
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Gender Stallion
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Height 15.3hh
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Alliance Rouge
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Appearance<br>
The stallion is very slim framed; this is mostly due to his Arabian heritage. Despite this, though, Baime is very muscular. His thin build makes him quick, though he doesn't tend to use this to his advantage very often. His hooves are hardy, another desert dweller feature, and can easily support his build. His ears are slightly tuliped, though it's not a prominent feature. Baime's skull isn't dished, but instead has the longer muzzle and wide set nostrils of a Thoroughbred.
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His coloring is very uncommon for his breed. He's painted, white on chestnut, with his mane and tail being two toned as well. His mane is of medium length while his tail tends to find itself wrapped and tangled around his ankles. Baime has a habit of forgetting to groom himself, so his tail most often than not is knotted. He has a wide set blaze, the marking extending on his left side rather than his right. His eyes are crystal blue, though they do tend to change from bright blue to a deep blue depending on his mood.
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Personality<br>
The painted stallion isn't all there to say the least. He tends to have moments of sanity, of course, but more often than not, his mind tends to get the better of him. Baime has a bit of schizophrenia, the case mild and only affects him in great moments of stress. However, he does tend to hear various voices, all of which try to rule his life. The male can hold a conversation, mostly normal, though he will throw various random ramblings in without really noticing it.
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Baime is for the most part oblivious to his condition. He knows he's not your average equine, but it doesn't tend to phase him. He's good natured, though, despite his illness. Only when he's having an episode does his emotions tend to flip flop. He's also very submissive and easily swayed.
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Brief History<br>
He grazes silently in the meadow, his dam not to far away. He's had a completely normal life up to now. As a yearling, that's not really much to say. However, his life would change and, sadly, not for the better. A storm was rolling in, the thick black clouds hovering angrily above his sire's herd. Baime snorted to himself, short painted tail swishing against his flank. Nearby, his mother raised her head, blue eyes watching the heavens as they rumbled in warning. She nickered to her son, though he paid her no heed.
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Storms came and went, why would this one be any different? The young stallion raised his head lazily from the grass at his feet. His ears flopped to the side, a sign of his annoyance at being bothered from grazing. <b><font color='#a96767'>“Come son, we need to seek shelter.”</font> </b>At her words, the painted male allowed his eyes to take in the herd around him. They all seemed as bothered as he was by the rumbling clouds, which is to say, not at all. Snorting again, he returned to the grass and continued his eating.
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The white mare looked from her son to the sky once again. She had a bad feeling about those clouds, no matter that no one else did. Almost as if in response, a bolt of lightning cracked, hitting a tree a mile off. The female squealed at the flash, while the rest of the herd, her son included, balked. <b><font color='#a96767'>“Mom!”</font></b> He bolted to her side, though the mare and the rest of the herd turned tail and galloped to the safety of the caves nearby. Baime shook where he stood, his crystal eyes watching as the injured tree smoked in the distance.
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Birds took to the sky as other creatures headed for higher ground where it was safer. Baime stood in place, to much in shock to move. His dam turned, aware that her son wasn't following her.<b><font color='#a96767'> “Baime! Come son! Run!”</font></b> Her words fell of deaf ears. It was only when the thunder rumbled as another flash of lightning showed itself that the stud squealed and ran to his mother. The pair raced after the herd, though it was in vain. Another flash of lightning, this one far to close for comfort, landed at a tree to their right.
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The flash was blinding, even more so now that the heavens wept ferociously. Baime squealed again, his mother tripped, falling to her knees. <b><font color='#a96767'>“Baime!”</font></b> All she cared for was her son's safety. The youngster shook his head, trying to clear his vision, his ears swiveling around his skull in his fear. The struck tree crackled, the branches falling to the ground. Just as his vision cleared, the top half of the tree broke from the base. His eyes widened before everything went dark, but not before he heard a fatal scream.
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<i><font color='white'>“Wake.” </font></i>
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He groaned, his skull aching viciously. Baime's eyes opened, though he slammed them closed at the brightness of the world around him. Another groan escaped his jaws. The male stirred slowly, able to feel his limbs.<i><font color='white'> “Get up.”</i></font> Squinting, the yearling brought his legs under him and slowly stood. His limbs were wobbly, but he was finally able to stand. Shaking his skull, the paint allowed his crystal eyes to take in his surroundings.
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It was only when he spotted her did his memories come crashing back to him, waves of agony as he cried out in anguish. Baime raced to her side, sobs racking his chest. <i><font color='white'>“It's pointless to cry. She's gone.”</i></font> He ignored the nagging voice in his head, his emotions to much for him to question its existence.
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He'd have a lifetime to come to terms with his current state. For now, he cried. His loss was too great to understand, though his loneliness seeped into every vein. His herd had left them for dead. He was alone, mourning, terrified.<font color='white'> <i>“It's going to be alright. You have me now....” </i></font>
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<i><a href="http://hoofbeatdesigns.deviantart.com/art/We-Ain-t-Ever-Getting-Older-631995323" target="_blank">Image Credits</a></i></center>
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