Post by `* isis on Dec 7, 2008 23:03:10 GMT -5
i s i s !
they call me isis
i've walked this earth 2 and a half winters
thank god i'm female
gypsy vanner blood flows through my veins
the price of beauty the typical gypsy vanner pattern of black and white splashes blotch her shiny coat; in isis's case, her coat gleams ebony more oft than ivory. She stands tall, at 16.3 hands, with almost disproportionately long legs about which float amazingly voluminous and silky black and white feathers. despite her large stature, isis is very graceful and lithe, appearing to fly when she gallops. her legs are well feathered, dainty and lean, though their size belies their great strength. her face is very refined, with a pearly white blaze running down the center of her elegant cranium and impossibly rich chocolaty brown eyes. her ears are proportionate to her head, and are very mobile and fox-like. her silky white mane flows to well past her shoulders, and her tail brushes the ground. combined all together, isis is a picture of elegance and strength, perfectly in harmony, despite the contradicting elements of beauty and strength that combine to form her lovely appearance.
luke skywalker is the allegiance
no offspring carry along my noble heritage
it's the inside that counts isis is strong -emotionally as well as physically- and she is very independent, preferring to be alone to having company, as is very unusual for her kind, as most, if not all, equines prefer herds. with such independence comes a measure of self-reliance, and so, she hates being dependant on anyone, for anything. outspoken, witty and very sarcastic, she could care less about anyone’s opinion of her and would never think of adhering to any stereotype or cliché. her big mouth and cuttingly sarcastic comments never fail to get her in trouble. she can be blunt, or as she prefers to term it, succinct. her bluntness can be misconstrued as rudeness by people who don’t know her, but those who do recognize that she prefers to keep things short and simple.
she is very kind, generous, and selfless, always more than willing to extended a helping hand to anyone in need. but though she is kind, and light, she is not naïve. She is smart and brave and cunning, and doesn't take crap from anyone. isis doesn’t have much patience, and is known to get very cranky if she has to wait or is slowed down by people. she also has a very low tolerance for frustration, and, since she is quite often thrown into very frustrating situations, can work up quite a temper, though nothing out of the ordinary for her; she has a very nasty temper, but it takes a while to work her up. when you do, though, it’s never pretty. isis is also very, very stubborn. another of her traits emphasized by her stubbornness is loyalty. she will stand by anyone who has earned her trust and taken the time to befriend her. any friends that she does have she protects fiercely and is always intensely loyal to those select few who she loves.
yesterday is history isis was born into a neutral herd, and brought up fairly well. Though she was never treated with more love than you'd give a stranger on the streets, isis grew to be a kind, good soul, pledging her allegiance with the light herds that often passed through her fathers large turf and promising herself that she would never turn to 'the dark side'. Her parents, of course, could care less what she did, and she was often forgotten. When she reached two winters old, she was kicked out of the herd by her father, and wandered the next year alone, until she reached midnight acres, where her story commences. . .
the butterflies get me every time she reeled away from the flashing hooves with lightning speed, avoiding all but one flailing leg that made contact with her rump. The sickening sound of flesh tearing filled her auds and she was suddenly aware of a throbbing pain on her hip, where bright red blood flowed freely, quickly discolouring the shiny ivory of her pelt. The metallic smell of blood floated on the breeze, and a scream of defiance and anger wrenched past the prison of her maw, letting loose a volley of angry shrieks and whinnies that rent the air with their piercing resonance. the rouge stallion hissed back in a deadly voice, daring isis to contradict him. isis flung wordless shriek of the purest loathing back in his face, her normally rich and warm eyes filled with a murderous venom that promised violence. the stallion's teeth flashed again, this time directed at isis's jugular with an almost mechanical accuracy.
such a stupid move; isis almost laughed out loud for the stallions obvious ineptitude. though isis herself was allied with the light herds, she had learned the art of battle while still young; surviving in her father's herd as the most unwanted little foal ever borne by salistra was not an easy feat, made even more difficult because most of the 'neutral' equines in his heard leaned heavily to the dark side. and dark neutrals did not like the presence of a light in their herd. she had never entirely been violent enough to seriously injure her attackers, instead relying heavily on tact and her superior size to trump her assassins. But this stallion was pitifully stupid-so stupid that it would have been comical to watch, had she not been engaged in the struggle herself.
dodging this attack had been too easy. simply rearing would easily solve the problem, and then the stallions empty cranium would have been directly beneath her deadly thrashing forelegs. but, alas, isis was not sadistic, and she spared the poor stud the flogging he would have gotten, had she not been the merciful soul she was. instead, she wheeled away from the night-darkened pelt of her prospective suitor, and, lashing out once more with her hind legs, lengthened her stride into a leisurely canter, one last vindictive cry of joy flung from her velveteen muzzle as her ebony and ivory blotched figure dissipated gracefully into the fog that clung to the curves of the land.
the mug shot
