Chatroom

[Horse]

_{Er... I dunno. I will figure it out.}

[Story]

_{I hope everyone's worked on their Cross forms a bit...Somehow I doubt it. T.T}

[Cloudy]

I finished my Cross forms <3

I mean, Trom's could have a bit more, but I dunno. I don't know how to describe Trom.

[Story]

<sub>Cloudy, you little angel. You should get a cookie.

I have no cookies.

//hides Samoas</sub>

[Cloudy]

_{ewww, Samoas. xD Lemme snag Trom's form. Maybe y'all can help me out. Oh! I found Lindsay's death scene from the old, old, old Cross xD}

[Cloudy]

Tromluí | Nightmare

“I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.” - Sam
“What are we holding onto, Sam?” - Frodo
“That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.” – Sam

_{Tromluí is a sturdy young colt, aged at three and a half years. He his built for speed, with long legs and a smooth, but muscular, body. His coloring is a deep, lightless black; so dark that it seems to glow a startling midnight blue when caught in the sun’s rays. He has no other coloring on him, aside from the glowing blue hue of his rectangular eyes. He is a lighthearted colt, loving to movement of the run – how his muscles tighten and release as he flies across the track. He is a racehorse at heart, and will always be.
Tromluí’s past is not a pretty one. He was born into an abusive owner’s home, and since birth was malnourished and beaten. He was weaned before he was old enough, and when he was one and a half, animal control rescued the animals at his farm. Miraculously, despite Tromluí’s horrific past, he had no lingering health problems aside from hunger and weight. He was instantly mistrusting of every single human that came near him. When it was time for him to be fed at the police holding farm, he’d skitter away from the gentle hands of his caretakers, hiding behind a nearby tree until the refilled his bucket and water trough and vanished. He gradually gained weight and was once more healthy; it was at this time that Cyn’s father found and adopted him, giving him as a present to his daughter, Cyn. Tromluí did not trust Cyn at first and often nipped or bit at her if she came too close, earning his name ‘Tromluí’, which is Irish for Nightmare. However, about a year later, Nightmare finally warmed up to Cynthia and they helped each other heal.}

[Cloudy]

It looks so short on here. </3 It was long on my Word document.

[Horse]

_{How do you not like samoas? Those things are like, heaven in a cookie.}

[Cloudy]

_{They look yucky}

[Story]

<sub>I don't even like coconut and I like them. XD

They look fine, though that first line says 'he his built for speed'</sub>