[Baltimare] The Sassy Mare [Open]

[Skye]

Set in the coastal city of Baltimare, an old mare put to pasture becomes a graceful filly once again under the care of her new master and stalwart crew... who knows what adventures await intrepid ocean explorers?

Horizon stood on the pier overlooking the small collection of ragtag hulls floating almost forlorn in the gentle waves. A sound of wood striking wood or the lap of water against a barnacle-encrusted hull could be heard amongst the shrieks of the seagulls and the rustle of the wind of the leaves of trees on the shoreline. A flap of a tattered sail would crackle nearly as sharp as the creak of old timbers, and before the stallion lay the forgotten shipyard.

Once a place where these old hulls had been built, as time went on many had also come here to die. From tiny dinghys to nearly massive old battleaxes from times long since gone, those that didn't just rot away were often broken down and re-used for other purposes. Horizon's own house had been built from timbers of a once grand passenger ship that used to ply its trade up and down the coast, and the name 'Flyer' had been impressed in his mind every day he had passed beneath her titleboard that now served as the crossmember above the front door.

Memories flooded through Horizon's mind, of the first time he'd run down to the docks, the first time as a colt he'd taken part in offloading the ships, up to becoming a cabin colt and later, one of the crew. Now he had been given the opportunity to have his own ship, and a pouchful of bits would see to it that he'd have her, even if he had to build her from his own four hooves. But he knew it wouldn't come to that, for he'd spied long ago the object of his desire.

Hooves thudded on the wood beneath him as he slowly reviewed the boats that seemed to stretch nearly as the eye could see. He knew where he was going, and he'd only needed a cursory glance over the rest of the fare. Each of these hulls could be bought at the right price, and each had their story, but soon he reached the end of the pier. There, nearly nestled protectively between two half-sunken trawlers, was a slender, but battered shape he'd had his eye on since he was little.

Her masts were splintered, her rigging long since eaten by birds and ravaged by the salt, and she listed a little to starboard, but that old schooner had become nearly the love of his life as long as he could remember. Every bit he had scrounged, every cent he had saved, he knew where they were going. And today, this grand old lady would find herself in the spotlight once more. Horizon's heart swelled in his chest as he neared where she was docked, and he stood there, gazing at the faded and peeling paint of her nameplate, The Sassy Mare.

Now, if only he could find a crew...