Post by jazzjazz on Apr 20, 2009 14:22:08 GMT -5
Name: Foxyn
Age: 6
Gender: Mare
Breed: Arab X QH X Andalusian
Color: Blood Bay
Markings: Strip from mid face to nose. Green eyes.
Alliance: undecided
Foals: None
Personality: Foxyn is a sociable, sweet creature. She does have a slight...err problem with nymphomania. Any kind of water arouses her. She has a slight fear of very tall trees and thick underbrush. She generally avoids going in the woods, prefering to keep to meadows and fields. She could over come this fear with patience and help. She also fears death greatly and tends to be over cautious. She believes in all things magical, which tends to make others shy away being that she talks to plants and lots of other animals. She will tend to make friends with other species easily.
History: She remembers little of her history. She knows she came from a place with very little horses. She never met her sire and her mother died when she was barely old enough to wean. An old barren mare traveled with her to this place, but also passed before they reached the borders. She is hoping she can live here and escape all the death.
Sample Post:
Dried up. UGH. Why does it have to be so..damn..dry? Snorting, irritation evident, I tossed my savage arabesque head, dark tendrils flying briefly before resting on my bay hued crest. Nares flared delicately I tested the air hopefully for some sign of rain. Growling under my breath as I detected not a drop of moisture in the summer air I switched my ebon brush over muscular hindquarters, brushing away an errant fly.
Bastards. How dare you land on me. Whipping my dial around to condenm the pests further, green orbs focused carefully on the black specks, the source of my further irritation. Get off of me you vermin. Ugh. Swinging my nape back to its former I surveyed the dried meadow, its grass looked very crispy. Did I honestly want to live in this barren wasteland?
Thinking of the alternative I shuddered, not even desiring to consider the fate that met my worn out mother and wizened old traveling companion. No way.
Barren. Not a single wildflower seemed to bloom here. Who could blame them? Without a drop of water to quench their delicate thirst how could they bloom in peace? I longed to chat with the frail blossoms, the crunchy, sun burned grass certainly didn't have much to say. Only to complain and whine about the lack of water! Now that's not even much of a conversation. The dragon flies even slowed their pace in the oven like heat, lazily coasting rather than their customary zipping around. One even came to rest upon my crimson pelt as I rested a hind raggedly. I didn't bother swishing him away...perhaps he would provide some decent conversation.
Conversation perhaps?Hello little dragon. Where are you headed today? The creature buzzed his delicate wings in a frenzy as I spoke. His large eyes peered at me for a moment before darting away. How rude of him. Sniffing in irritation I shifted my weight to my other tired leg. My ebon stilts were sluggish in the heat, I'm sure everyone else felt the same. That little dragonfly certainly perked up when I spoke to him. Ha. Long enough to fly away at least.
Picture:i41.tinypic.com/21eji1.jpg
UNFINISHED. (needs sample post.)
Age: 6
Gender: Mare
Breed: Arab X QH X Andalusian
Color: Blood Bay
Markings: Strip from mid face to nose. Green eyes.
Alliance: undecided
Foals: None
Personality: Foxyn is a sociable, sweet creature. She does have a slight...err problem with nymphomania. Any kind of water arouses her. She has a slight fear of very tall trees and thick underbrush. She generally avoids going in the woods, prefering to keep to meadows and fields. She could over come this fear with patience and help. She also fears death greatly and tends to be over cautious. She believes in all things magical, which tends to make others shy away being that she talks to plants and lots of other animals. She will tend to make friends with other species easily.
History: She remembers little of her history. She knows she came from a place with very little horses. She never met her sire and her mother died when she was barely old enough to wean. An old barren mare traveled with her to this place, but also passed before they reached the borders. She is hoping she can live here and escape all the death.
Sample Post:
Dried up. UGH. Why does it have to be so..damn..dry? Snorting, irritation evident, I tossed my savage arabesque head, dark tendrils flying briefly before resting on my bay hued crest. Nares flared delicately I tested the air hopefully for some sign of rain. Growling under my breath as I detected not a drop of moisture in the summer air I switched my ebon brush over muscular hindquarters, brushing away an errant fly.
Bastards. How dare you land on me. Whipping my dial around to condenm the pests further, green orbs focused carefully on the black specks, the source of my further irritation. Get off of me you vermin. Ugh. Swinging my nape back to its former I surveyed the dried meadow, its grass looked very crispy. Did I honestly want to live in this barren wasteland?
Thinking of the alternative I shuddered, not even desiring to consider the fate that met my worn out mother and wizened old traveling companion. No way. Barren. Not a single wildflower seemed to bloom here. Who could blame them? Without a drop of water to quench their delicate thirst how could they bloom in peace? I longed to chat with the frail blossoms, the crunchy, sun burned grass certainly didn't have much to say. Only to complain and whine about the lack of water! Now that's not even much of a conversation. The dragon flies even slowed their pace in the oven like heat, lazily coasting rather than their customary zipping around. One even came to rest upon my crimson pelt as I rested a hind raggedly. I didn't bother swishing him away...perhaps he would provide some decent conversation.
Conversation perhaps?Hello little dragon. Where are you headed today? The creature buzzed his delicate wings in a frenzy as I spoke. His large eyes peered at me for a moment before darting away. How rude of him. Sniffing in irritation I shifted my weight to my other tired leg. My ebon stilts were sluggish in the heat, I'm sure everyone else felt the same. That little dragonfly certainly perked up when I spoke to him. Ha. Long enough to fly away at least.
Picture:i41.tinypic.com/21eji1.jpg
UNFINISHED. (needs sample post.)