Post by insanity on Sept 2, 2013 21:41:54 GMT -7
Full Name: Forgotten Folklore Of The Past
Nickname: Folklore
Age: 5
Species: Horse
Breed: Lustiano/ Maremmara mix
Pelt/Hide Colour: Cremello
Eye Colour: Blue
Gender: Mare
Personality: A generally aggressive mare, with a special hatred toward the unintelligent and uncaring. She has high aspirations and hopes to someday become a lead mare. However, she also hopes to have a few foals to carry on her legacy.
History: (From Folklore's point of view.) I was born in the mountains overlooking a green valley where humans live. I don't know exactly where in the world, but I can tell you that it was very mild in temperature. I fought and killed my way to freedom from a horrible leader, and soon escaped into human hands. They admired my strange albino or cremello color and taught me many skills. I came to love humans, until I was again set free after a fire from which I escaped. I soon joined a small herd of young colts to guide them through the terrain I knew so well. Of course, the fates have never been good to me. We all grew ill during our second winter together, I was four, and they were all three and two. After the disease killed ten of their original thirteen, I and the remaining two parted ways. I found this glorious place after a year or so of endless travel. I encountered wolves, and deer and they taught me their languages.
Sample Post: The subtle chill of the morning beckons me outside our little cave. I stand and stretch, as sleeping on the ground isn't good for me. I whip my long tail absentmindedly, and shake my head to get the dust and dirt and dew off. My comrades still sleep. I count them, one is missing. Silently, I walk outside. Several of the other horses stir as I exit the cave. The songs of morning birds welcome me to the wilderness. The tall grass dampens my belly and legs as I search for the missing horse. He stands on the edge of the rocky cliff a quarter mile away from home. Gazing in awe at the sea. I saunter over to him and greet him with a low neigh. His ears twitch towards me, followed by his head. He, Dancing Flame, is our leader. The gorgeous chestnut Arabian who's famed father escaped the world of humans nearly twenty years ago. No words are said as I join him and we gaze at the wild spectacle that is the sea. Two forms, alone, without danger. I glance up at the rising sun. It bathes the horizon in golden light so brilliant, no word could ever describe it. I look to Dancing Flame, his coat is nearly as fiery. He looks back at me. Silently, we walk back to the cave and the rest of the herd...
Thank you for reading, and I'd really like to get this passed so I can start using this character!