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I was born into a large family in the Southern Fangorn Forest, Clan of Eowian. The youngest of 7 children, I was constantly picked on by my 4 older brothers. My father prided his herd of cattle, and thus, I learned to ride at an early age, and spent most of my time in the fields, tending to the cattle. When I was 9, Father gave me a new-born foal, as was the custom in my family, and I named him Courant, meaning "running" because he was a very active new born, often harrassing the cows (which my father didn’t really like). Around the age of ten, cows began dissappearing in large numbers, so my father and my 4 eldest brothers went off to find out why. I followed in secret because I felt left out, and wanted to go with them where the action was. They rode hard for many days, and it was a strain on Courant, who was then just a young colt. I rode up over a hill one day near sundown, and gasped. For there before me lay a party of orcs, most lying dead around the bodies of my kin. I wheeled Courant around, and sensing my urgency, he bolted down the road towards home. I lost all track of time after that, just nudging Courant forward, trying to get home. But alas, when I did reach home, it was worse than the scene I had just left. There lying before me was the charred remains of our home, as well as the bodies of my mother and 2 sisters. It seems the orcs had managed to beat me home as well... My mind was now made up. Father had kept a "secret stash" of a few weapons in the field just in case some wild animal threatened the herd, I went there, and could barely lift the heavy iron sword. So, instead I chose the short spear used for "poking" the cattle to get them headed in the right direction, and headed back home. I mounted Courant, and gazed for the last time at my beloved home. Then, giving Courant a swift kick, headed off to Meduseld to join the cavalry. And the rest is history...(although I had to wait a few years until they allowed me to join) |