Gazing Wolves

People get attached so easily. They cling onto others as if they don't know that nothing actually stays. They base their whole selves around something as fragile as another human's desires. Where's the fun in that? The way I see it, you live fast and die young and enjoy the hell out of the ride. There's no point in riding slow horses or loving one person. You gotta LIVE. You gotta send your horse at that 6' oxer and see what happens. You see, the whole world is yours for the taking. Too many folks are scared of hurting people or messing up. But life is nothing if not a mess. You literally cannot fuck up life more than it fucks you up. So the least you can do is take some pleasure from the bitch. 

Speaking of life messing you up, it certainly did a number on me recently. Which is not to say I'm not impressed by her incredible ability to so poetically do so, or that I do not at least see some potential in this change. Turns out, sleeping with your boss CAN have some consequences. Not that it wasn't worth it (she was a vaulter for gods sake). But when her husband found out, I mean I look good with a black eye and all but it was time to go. I was lucky I got out of there with Fenrir since the bastard always liked the stallion. But I guess he was eager enough to see me gone that he could give up the beast for the cause. 

Which Fen certainly was, a beast I mean. He may have been named for his resemblance of appearance to the Norse Wolf, but he certainly landed himself the personality as well. He was an asshole to be honest. But he was my asshole. We practically grew up together. Him, a trickster of a foal, and me, a young man with far too much time on his hands. But it all turned out fine. I mean, sure the boy can throw an incredible buck and I still have that scar from when he kicked me and knocked me out cold, but he could jump a mean round in the show jumper circuit and watch out if you ever got him on a x-country course. And he was an easy keeper. Got fat on air, never broke his fences, and stalled like quite a gentleman, at least for the first few days. So I figured, how hard would it be to find some place to board the guy? Turns out, harder than you'd think. People have their heads so far up their asses they can't see the difference between an uncontrolled stallion and a true gentleman. Every place I looked stated "no stallions" like they were some sort of plague. Something to be avoided at all costs. I often joked with Fen, "I should buy a cross, might just keep you away." But he always knew I was joking anyways. 

Silver Hollow was unimpressive. It was a small lot of land with some small pastures, a small and crappy indoor arena, and had two yappy terriers. Plus, the stable hand was looking wistfully at the owner's younger sister while she made almost painfully obvious moves on him (wake up dude! Am I right?). But they allowed stallions, had an open paddock, and were cheap. I helped buy their average horse's hay and they let my stally live somewhere that wasn't a trailer. 

I, on the other hand, was finding that people were as discriminating to those with (minor!) criminal records as they were to stallions. *sigh* we are misunderstood folk, criminals and stallions. But I did find myself an apartment over a small, no-name sporting goods store. It needed a little fixing up (and some new roofing), which I agreed to fix in exchange for a free month of board. How hard can it be to fix a roof anyways? It wasn't so bad really. I never used my pans for cooking so I situated them around the house to catch the leaks when it rained (so THIS was why I carried those suckers for so long). Then of course there's Shelly, the building (and store) owner's daughter. She was a lovely, small town girl, super American. She liked to blast country music and put her feet up on my dash when I drove her to meet Fen. Say what you will about horses but they make the best goddamn wingman. Especially Fenrir. I mean you should see the guy work! It's beautiful to watch. He acts all shy at first, not letting me catch him, and then he just casually walks up to the girl and makes her feel all special. Like "wow, this dude's horse just picked me!" They see it as a sign or some shit. Gives me the perfect opening, "Look at that! He likes you!" Ten minutes later we're getting at it in my extended cab pick-up truck and Fen is no doubt watching me thinking, "you cheeky bastard, you did it again." 

That is, when Eyulf isn't with me. He's a real awesome dog but has yet to understand the concept of backing up my plays. I mean growling enviously at anyone that gets within five feet of me may be fantastic protection but it certainly isn't helping with the girls. They see him and they get all "coo"y and start baby talking as they approach and Eyulf won't have any of that. He prefers the great outdoors. Which, I can understand. But the guy never tires! I mean I run three miles with him every morning and walk him every evening, or take him to some field to play Frisbee or catch. The only time he seems to actually feel the rigorous activity is when I take him on my conditioning rides. Thirty minutes of walking and trotting, twenty minutes of trotting and cantering, some hill work, and finally a cool out. I go out on the trails and Eyulf runs ahead and by the time we get back Fen is absolutely soaked and Ey's tongue is nearly smacking the ground as he walks over to the closest shade he can find. Even in the dead of winter he will find some shade. In the snow! But to each their own. 

So, that's me. My name is Demtrios Lindstrom, but you can call me Dusty:

Gender: Male

Age: 27

Height: 5'11

Origin: Swedish

Appearance: Curly blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles. Sturdily built but fit and strong. Not extremely tall but not extremely short either. A curves scar running from his lip to his cheek bone on the left side of his face. He likes button up shirts and t-shirts and he usually wears grey breeches or dark jeans. 

History: Dusty was born in Sweden but moved to the US with his family when he was four years old. He barely remembers it at all anymore but he does sometimes go there to visit his extended family. He bounced around a lot as a kid, since his parents split when he was six. He ended up in foster care a couple of times but eventually his dad got full custody and they settled down a bit. Once they had land, Dusty's dad finally caved into getting a horse. He got a stout little Quarter Horse called Hollywood. He wouldn't canter and he trotted with his head near the ground and always stopped for grass whenever possible. Frustrating but really taught him a lot. After he outgrew Hollywood he kept him because he loved the little pony so much. When he passed away from colic at the age of 37, they began looking for a new horse. That's when he found Fenrir. He has hesitant about getting a gaited horse and one that was a little known breed as well. But he went out to the place and they had a ton of them in a small pen and he ended up getting Fen for almost nothing. He was 16 at the time, Fen only a year old. The two got along surprisingly well and he ended up turning the scrappy little foal into an amazing jumper. He then moved around a bit, training horses in exchange for board.
Design is done with help from:

Horse:

Name: 017 Fenrir (Norse Wolf)
Call Name: Fen, Fenny, Wingman
Breed: Swedish Blue Walking Horse
Color: Black Silver (Rarity Score of 9 - semi-common)
Age: 11
Gender: Stallion
Height: 15.1 hands
Personality: Fen is a great horse for his owner but very stallion-y. Not so much that he is crazy around mares but he is very unpredictable. He enjoys playing but mostly he just enjoys going. Most likely a Left Brain Extrovert. He can jump a mad round and keep up with the much taller, better bred, warmbloods in the show ring or out on the X-Country course. In the barn, Fen prefers to be outside but does stall well, just beware if you ride him after he's been stalled for a few days. Fen is one of those horses that can be a perfect angel one second and then totally turn into a maniac the next. He is, however, very very loving and extremely bonded with Dusty, usually choosing to have his nose in Dusty's face at all times.
(c) chihuahua4446

Dog:

Name: Eyulf (Swedish for "Lucky Wolf")
Call Name: Ey
Breed: Siberian Husky
Color: Copper/Red and white
Age: 2
Personality: Ey has a TON of energy. He isn't one to leave Dusty's side so much, sort of like a long distance Velcro dog, but he will run all day if it is up to him. He's fantastic as catching a Frisbee and is very attached to his "fuzzyball", a very old tennis ball with a thick tuft of hair on top. He is very protective of his home, car, human, and toy but once Dusty tells him to knock it off, he begins to warm up. He has a lot of horse sense, which really makes Dusty's life easier to not have to worry about him around the stable. But he is a pain to teach, mostly because he's so independent as far as thinking goes, generally choosing to do whatever the heck he wants to do.
Design: Custom for Chihuahua4446


(c) chihuahua4446