The continent of Drumming Hooves had begun as a haven for the species known as equines, but as time progressed and the pages of the book known as history were filled, it became more of a nightmare than a dream. Man came, and with him he brought the fires of industry, and a mindset that involved only one thing: domination over all life on Earth.

He hunted the brumbies, especially those cursed with a hue of silver, for he desired them above all. Centuries passed by, and the cunning of the silver brumbies was all that kept them alive and free. All the while the humans seemingly worked hard everyday to destroy and overpopulate the Earth with their funny looking kind.

Then one day the trees began to whisper amongst themselves of an oncoming darkness that would destroy the Earth, and on one sunny day in mid July it happened. Disaster struck.

Global Warming, very few people could have predicted its true effect. The temperature rise on the Earths surface from the destruction of the Ozone Layer caused the molten core of the Earth to become dangerously active. What followed next would result in the reformation of the Earth. A series of massive earthquakes rippled across the world, ripping continents apart, and opening great rifts in the Earths surface Those belonging to the species known as man, who survived the initial attack fled to a far distant land dubbed the Land of Doria, save a select few who decided to remain behind, to try and salvage what was left of their world. Like them the legendary Silver Brumbies left, taking the forgotten paths to places of safety.

The Silver Brumbies who had inhabited these planes for many a century never returned once the balance had been restored, and neither did man to reclaim their kingdom. Perhaps to few now remained to retakes the lands that were once theirs. But the tattered remnants of the brumby herds, those not deemed worthy to follow the Silvers came forth, stragglers and vagabonds seeking to survive. They were without direction, and huddled together in the midst of the land, on the largest and safest piece of earth they could find. And there they waited for a new king, one with the power to lead them into this new time, to reunite them as they had once been under Thowra.

And he came, this king. But he was no silver. His pelt was as black as ebony in the deepest depths of the night. But he was strong and proud, and he took charge, leading the survivors off to where they could live in safety. His name was Twist of Fate, and for many a millennia, and indeed to this day he and his line have ruled supremely over Drumming Hooves.