Post by Twisted on Dec 12, 2007 15:44:29 GMT -5
Name
Twisted (may go by Twist)
Age
4 summers past
Gender
Mare
Rank
none requested.
Species
Esroh
If human and if applicable, trade
not applicable
Description
A coat of golden honey coats the mare, delicately splashed with cream about her withers and flank. Her forelegs brandish the same cream color that is sported elsewhere. The being's wings are the same cream as mentioned before, flecked with the golden color that covers the majority of her soft fur. The mare's dazzling eyes are both glass, referring to the coloring only. Half of each eye is the most crystalline blue, the other half as black as a bottomless pit. A long mane and tail adorn her slender bodice, forelock brushed to one side. Her legs are long and elegant, much like an Arabian horse. Indeed, her frame allows her much speed and much stamina, but she is not one for pulling or much hard labor. No, her free spirit dwells in a body that reflects so.
Personality
Like most mares, the female has a sharp temper that can be provoked on most occasions. She will tolerate many, but will only truly let her heart lie with one. There may be others that she is readily able to come into contact with, but there would only be a handful that she would like to stay with all the time. A kind look she possesses, and would rather let the look reflect in her nature, but there are those who, undoubtedly, bring her temper to surface, boiling as ever.
History
First, one would want to get acquainted with the namesake of such a mare. No, it does not represent her in any way, other than the fact that when she was born, like no normal foal was she. Her forelegs were twisted up in one another, and presented her sire and dam with much worry. Their main concern was that she would not be able to use the limbs that presented themselves in such an odd manner. True to the thought, it did manage to hinder the young filly’s ability to learn how to stand, but not for the long run.
An energetic spitfire was what some would have used to describe the small being as she tested out the legs which had been the cause for so much whispered talk between mother and father. She seemed to be able to use hers as well as any other foal, if not better. No, they had no reason to worry about this one. She would be fine.
As the foal grew, she acquired more beauty, growing from her awkward foal stage, to yearling, and then came the wings. Before the elegant creature had hit three, her wings presented themselves. At first, little stubs of feathered fluff was all that she could make out by turning her head every which way. As they grew a bit more, the filly found it a fun game to try and catch the tips of the growing appendages between her teeth, like a puppy does its tail. She kept this up until the wings had grown long enough to present no challenge at catching.
As soon as her wings were at their fullest, the young creature was taught how to use them to their proper function. No longer were they a chew toy for the young horse (for she was now a horse, no longer a foal) but a lavish tool to allow her to gallop in the sky and frolic within the fields of clouds that she had only heard tales of. Now it was her turn.
Because of such an outlook, the sessions held with her were a breeze, and the horse was able to easily pick up on the basics of lift, and how one would use the wind for themselves. Her parents were often seen chatting with one another, commenting that their child was a natural, although she did manage to make quite a few stumbles.
Now, the full product of the work put in, all of the care taken to raise the little being into the beautiful beast, emerges. She is ready to face what the world will throw at her; she has taken what it has already. She may be in for a few surprises, but the young mind is willing to deal with anything that comes her way.
RP Example
Starlit skies slowly faded into that of morning, taking with them all sleep that the esroh might have held underneath her eyelids. As the first rays of the sun wrapped warm tendrils about her face and bodice, she let out a dainty yawn, accompanied with the opening of her eyes. The blue and black orbs within the sockets took their time as the female looked about, taking inventory of all that had moved by wind or creature through the night.
Nothing seemed to have gone far. A few leaves were in a different position than when she had fallen into her slumber, but nothing that couldn’t be covered with accusing the nice breezes that had licked at her hide during the night.
The feathered wings slowly spread themselves as she unfolded her forelegs, letting her small hooves grasp at the ground before her, hind end doing the same. She was up in no time, the wings folding over the golden fur on her back. A shake of her glossy mane let all fragments of dirt and leaf matter free of the elongated hairs. Her tail was what came next, a quick lash of it, like a man would a bull whip, and all was out from it.
Her head craned, looking over her wings. Did they, too, have any speck of dirt on them? She could not see any, but guessed that they may. Because of this, her wings unfolded from their place next to the sun-licked fur of her back and awaited their fate. The slim frame of the mare started to shake, much like a big wet dog trying to rid it’s fur of water droplets. No, there had not been anything in the fine feathers. The wings folded back about her, waiting for later use. The day of the mare had begun. Whatever lay ahead, she was ready to face.
