Name: Marcella Devala

Nick name: Marcy, Cella, Dev

Breed: French Thoroughbred

Age: 3

Father: unknown stud(open)

Mother: unknown ex-racehorse(open)

Half-Siblings: Puissance, 3 others(open)

Full Siblings: none

Mate: will be Andre (c) Loren1015

Crush: Andre

Crushers: Andre (open)

Children: none

Herd: will be El Rebaño eltoro

Best Friend: Brios' spring (c) Blazetail

Friends:

Miracle (c) Bopsie

Windy (c) Snoopy

Silas (c) AnglTrouble

Bandit (c) Blazetail

Stryker (c) Grazer

Sitka (c) me

(open)

Personality: very soft-spoken, quiet, gentle, and free-spirited

History:

Mercella Devala was born in France. Her father was a unsung stud, and her mother a ex-racehorse. She was a very anticipated arrival, taking her mother four hours to deliver. She was born in a very precarious fashion. She was backwards. Her rear came out first, giving her owners quite a fright. But, she was healthy all the same.

She grew up to be a leggy young thing, and became quiet the gem on the race-track. She blazed through France with several wins. She became famous around France... her owners were delighted, but that fame and fashion became dangerous.

In the middle of the night two men slipped into the barn door. Devala, assuming that they were just passer-bys, approached them. it was then that they stuck her with the needle, piercing into one of her veins, and injecting tranquilizer into her. They kept the dose light, so the horse could still walk.

Then they tied the rope to their horse's saddle, and took off into the night. They traveled, and traveled, and traveled. They traveled for months, and Marcella began to grow accusstomed to the strange ways of the west.

Henry, a old bay gelding, taught her. Henry was like her mentor. He told her everything about life here….. and she was fascinated. He told her that she was going to the Lakota Tribe. To be one of the Chief’s war mares.

They arrived in the Lakota village at sundown. It was so strange for Dev. Strange houses, which Henry had called teepees, dotted the lands. Russet-skinned people scurried about the teepees. And the horses. Marcella had never seen anything like this before. They were small horses, but strong and powerful. More rugged. She was handed over to a man with a harsh face, and hands equally as harsh. And then he painted her. She was so bewildered. But, when she looked into a puddle of rain water she understood. Beautiful red streaks slashed across her body…. she wasn’t just a grey filly any more. She was special.

Marcella eventually ran into Andre, a partier Mexican Mustang stallion who she crushed on. She joined his herd under his care, the only French horse in the Mexican Band, but still visits the Lakota often.  

render and design (c) Esca