This is a contest entry for ILoveJetta; so far only she can use this character.

Name: Moonbeam

Age: Depends on Marshall's

Breed: Mostly mustang

Color: Black, except for a white streak on her face.

Bio: Moonbeam was brought into the world like most every foal. After she was born, she and her mother walked back to the herd to join the other foals that had been born that year. Moonbeam tended to stay near her mother, far too shy to join the others in play. She was perfectly happy with just her mother's company.

However, that was to change. When Moonbeam was eight months old, her mother was bitten by a rattlesnake. Moonbeam's mother limped to the center of the herd, where she collasped as the poison took over her. She died that very day, her last vision beign that of Moonbeam's tear-streaked face. Moonbeam went basically in shock. She was even less talkative than usual, only sitting on the grass and whispering her mother's name.

At some point, however, Moonbeam began to... lighten up. No one knows how it happened. The elders in the herd muttered amongst themselves. Perhaps she had seen her mother's ghost, they whispered, or something supernatural came over her. Whatever the reason, Moonbeam no longer stared into the wide open. She instead contented herself grazing a few paces from the herd, enjoying their presense.

As a yearling, Moonbeam was naturally quiet, but not quite so traumatized as she was before. Unlike the other youngsters, she was not rambunctious and loud, which easily brought upon her volleys of taunts and teasings. They would critisize her of being self-centered and conceited, or that she was too prim and proper to talk to such "lowly foals" as they. Moonbeam would often try to ignore their piercing, merciless words. But often, their barrages were too much for her to take. So instead, she would lay among the grasses, letting their swaying fingers stroke her and wipe the tears away.

One day, as she took in the pleasing fragrance of the greenery for the ump'teenth time, a resolution came over her. She couldn't decipher its becoming, nor how it had come to her. But contrary to quiet, timid nature, this solution came to her. The idea: Talk to them. It was such an ingenious propisition, she was nearly certain it would work.

Confidence welled up inside of her, she stood and left her bed in the grass, her safe haven. Immediately, the other foals noticed her disposition and went to investigate the disturbance. All, even Moonbeam herself, were surprised when she began talking and making chit-chat. Being the innocent children they were, the foals put aside their previous dispute and let Moonbeam join them. She still didn't talk much, but she happily weaved her way into their games of tag. Moonbeam had learned to stand up for herself.

All was blissful in the herd. That is, until something drastic happened. It happened in the middle of a perfectly fine game of tag. One of the mares smelled something suspicious, a scent she couldn't identify. No one knows what the smell was, but whatever it was, it sent the herd into a panic. They ran and ran and ran, determined to escape from the danger that might be following. Soon, clouds began to cover the pale blue sky, and thunder deeply rumbled in the distance. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and struck the ground in front of the stampeding horses. It was much too far away electrocute anyone, but it frightened them very much. They scattered about, some heading back, others in the opposite direction. Moonbeam was alone when she darted forward and to the side. She galloped as quickly as her legs would take her.

It wasn't until she was miles from the herd did she realize that she was unaquainted and lost. She slowed down, ending up in an immensly large forest. Not knowing where else to turn, she walked in, the trees welcoming her like the finger-like grasses in her old home. Moonbeam was not at all frightened of the woods. In fact, the wind whipping through the leaves reminded her of her mother's comforting whisper. The silhoettes of the trees reminded her of her mother's shielding shadow, protecting her from harm. So instead of searching for the herd, she stayed in the forest, where the trees were better company than her own kind.

Moonbeam enjoyed the years that followed quite well. Nothing disturbed her, at least when horses were concerned. Perhaps the most exciting thing that happened was seeing a rabbit fall dead after eating some bright red berries.

Until Marshall came. It didn't take much for her to notice him, she could hear him bounding in from quite a large distance away. She went to investigate, easily blending in the foiliage of the trees.

It wasn't until near midnight when she found him. The stallion had calmed down tremendously, and he was sniffing the ground, head lowered. Her eyes well adjusted to the darkness of the woods, she could easily the stallion. Moonbeam had never admired someone the way she did the stallion; his bulging muscles, beautiful pelt, and such magnificent eyes. However, her admiration had to be put to a halt, for she saw the stallion reaching for the poisonous berries!

"I wouldn't eat those if I were you," Moonbeam said, her voice surprisingly calm and smooth. She wondered where it had come from.

The stallion abruptly lifted his head, glaring into the inkiness of the forest. "Who's there?"

"I am."

"What's your name, I mean?" Marshall said, trying his best to follow the sound of the voice. Moonbeam sensed his aggresion, so she began pacing silently, throwing him off the hunt.

"My name is not important," she said, "I am but a humble inhabitant of these woods. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Show yourself!" Marshall barked.

"Now why would I do that?"

Marshall was taken aback for a moment. Moonbeam took the oppurtunity to speak.

"I sense your anger. Surely you would harm me if I came out. No, I shall wait until you are calm."

Marshall clenched his teeth. "I'm... CALM... now."

Moonbeam chuckled inside. "I think not. Good bye for now. I will return later."

"No, wait!" Marshall yelled, but Moonbeam had disappeared into the shadows of the night.

The following morning, Moonbeam returned, watching the stallion from a distance. He had at least begun eating, keeping as far away as possible from the poisonous bush, a good sign he trusted her just a bit. She also felt the loneliness he felt inside, deep, sharp pangs to the heart. She sympathized for him; he must have been lost, just as she was so many years ago. Maybe he would find that the forest was a good home after all.

For the next few weeks, Moonbeam personally visited Marshall, but only during the darkness of night. The first night she visited, Marshall noticed the dash of white on her face and chased after her, still feeling aggresive toward other horses. Moonbeam quickly solved the problem by dipping the front of her face in mud. The stallion lost track of her, so he went back to his little clearing. After that incident, Marshall tried his best to be nice to the mysterious mare in hopes that she would finally show her face. With each passing night, he felt his heart slowly soften, for he realized how much he needed Moonbeam, his only company, from keeping him from going insane. He soon got over his aggression towards other horses. It wasn't until Moonbeam was completely sure he was ready to know her that she finally showed herself.

It was a beautiful night when she appeared. Marshall wasn't expecting to see a mare suddenly appear in front of him. "Who are you?"

Moonbeam smiled, then copied the phrase she had used just weeks before. "My name is not important. I am but a humble inhabitant of these woods. Nothing more, nothing less."

Marshall gazed at her. "It's you." he said. He took in her features: her inky black coat, they way the moon reflected it, showing her curves. Marshall took a step closer. "You're the one, the one who's kept me from going insane all this time."

Moonbeam smiled at him. "I could say the same about you. You helped me remember how great it is to love someone." She gasped as the last words came out, then turned her head away. Had she just pushed him away with her bluntness? But Marshall grinned at her. He walked up to her and nuzzled her, signifying that he too loved her.

They now spend all their time together, day and night. They have decided to stay in the woods, at least until further notice. And though the subject of foals has not occured quite yet, we can rest assured that it may happen soon...
 

Note: I may add more info on her later; it depends on the need for information later.

Another note: I am not happy with the way her picture came out; it may be subject to change.