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Description
This is my competition entry for 's contest.

Name: Damasken (da-ma-sken)
Herd: Of silver
Colouring: Grulla
Markings: White face, Off fore sock, near hind coronet.
Mane & tail: base is blue black, stripes of gold and white.
Eyes: deep crimson red
Bonded: Oaerd Once lost son.

Personality:
Haughty at first as a young colt, he boasted to his herdmates that he would never bond..ever! He hated that his peoples did, and thought it vulgar that those who were bonded, seemed to be paraded about like property..or so it appeared to him.
Fancy braids, ha he would never be caught dead with one!
He was always put back in is place, rolling his eyes as the elders attempted to explain the importance of a bonded with their Eqkin.

One evening whilst playing a game of hide and seek with his young heardmates, Damasken dashed off towards a thick forest, grinning to himself at how perfect a hiding spot it would be, his dark hue blending in perfectly with the tender forest shadows.

Curiosity however pushed him further within the woods, ears perked at all around him, drinking in the scents and sights. A sharp sound caught his attention and he tried to figure what it was, again it came, this time clearer, a sound like a cry in pain.
Damasken was scared but the sounds became more urgent and quite forgetting the game, moved in on its location, heart pounding in his great chest.

Inching closer he could smell smoke of a newly snuffed fire, gingerly he peered through the tree-fronds and stood rock still at the spectacle.

A young elfen boy was kneeling amongst the coals, tears streaming down his mucky face, his arms were bound infront of him with crude robe and a burly creature held them as another behind lashed the poor boy's back with a stick.
"Clumsy sod! tipping the cooking pot of water onto the fire!, now we have no food nor fire!"

Damasken's nostrils were wide, the scent of fear and blood mingled with the sweat of the two brutes that held the youth captive. Again and again the switch was brought down upon the boy and with each stroke Damasken trembled till he could bare it no more.

He broke from his hiding spot with a great trumpeting cry, dashing the stick wielder to the ground beneath his hooves. Whirling around he faced the other, ears pinned and teeth bared he drove at him, striking out with forelegs in fury.
The creature toppled beneath Damasken's force, and in his rage he had killed both captors. Alarmed he stood amongst the pools of blood and strewn ash, withers trembling in fear of what he had done.

A hand, gentle as a fallen feather, rested itself against his great shuddering shoulder and it stilled its nervous dance.
A voice called Damasken back from his darkness.

"Thankyou great one...My life is yours"

Damasken turned his sorrowed head, and as crimson eyes met the faded blue of the young boy's a warmth filled a space where his heart had grown cold. Warmed it untill all he could see was the boy, bedraggled, alive, comforting.

"I understand now" Damasken whispered quietly before running his muzzel through the youth's mussed raven locks and sharing a breath with warm puffs of air over his face.

********

Just popped some colour on him so you guys dont have to imagine what colour he is. [link]

art (c) Rose MoonFeather
Eqkin (c) Droemar

Description
This is my competition entry for 's contest.

Name: Damasken (da-ma-sken)
Herd: Of silver
Colouring: Grulla
Markings: White face, Off fore sock, near hind coronet.
Mane & tail: base is blue black, stripes of gold and white.
Eyes: deep crimson red
Bonded: Oaerd Once lost son.

Personality:
Haughty at first as a young colt, he boasted to his herdmates that he would never bond..ever! He hated that his peoples did, and thought it vulgar that those who were bonded, seemed to be paraded about like property..or so it appeared to him.
Fancy braids, ha he would never be caught dead with one!
He was always put back in is place, rolling his eyes as the elders attempted to explain the importance of a bonded with their Eqkin.

One evening whilst playing a game of hide and seek with his young heardmates, Damasken dashed off towards a thick forest, grinning to himself at how perfect a hiding spot it would be, his dark hue blending in perfectly with the tender forest shadows.

Curiosity however pushed him further within the woods, ears perked at all around him, drinking in the scents and sights. A sharp sound caught his attention and he tried to figure what it was, again it came, this time clearer, a sound like a cry in pain.
Damasken was scared but the sounds became more urgent and quite forgetting the game, moved in on its location, heart pounding in his great chest.

Inching closer he could smell smoke of a newly snuffed fire, gingerly he peered through the tree-fronds and stood rock still at the spectacle.

A young elfen boy was kneeling amongst the coals, tears streaming down his mucky face, his arms were bound infront of him with crude robe and a burly creature held them as another behind lashed the poor boy's back with a stick.
"Clumsy sod! tipping the cooking pot of water onto the fire!, now we have no food nor fire!"

Damasken's nostrils were wide, the scent of fear and blood mingled with the sweat of the two brutes that held the youth captive. Again and again the switch was brought down upon the boy and with each stroke Damasken trembled till he could bare it no more.

He broke from his hiding spot with a great trumpeting cry, dashing the stick wielder to the ground beneath his hooves. Whirling around he faced the other, ears pinned and teeth bared he drove at him, striking out with forelegs in fury.
The creature toppled beneath Damasken's force, and in his rage he had killed both captors. Alarmed he stood amongst the pools of blood and strewn ash, withers trembling in fear of what he had done.

A hand, gentle as a fallen feather, rested itself against his great shuddering shoulder and it stilled its nervous dance.
A voice called Damasken back from his darkness.

"Thankyou great one...My life is yours"

Damasken turned his sorrowed head, and as crimson eyes met the faded blue of the young boy's a warmth filled a space where his heart had grown cold. Warmed it untill all he could see was the boy, bedraggled, alive, comforting.

"I understand now" Damasken whispered quietly before running his muzzel through the youth's mussed raven locks and sharing a breath with warm puffs of air over his face.

********

Just popped some colour on him so you guys dont have to imagine what colour he is. [link]

art (c) Rose MoonFeather
Eqkin (c) Droemar