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H◯я©ɹ∩✖
Dec 14, 2008 12:10:11 GMT -5
Post by ¤ Horcrux on Dec 14, 2008 12:10:11 GMT -5
Name: Horcrux
Age: Six
Gender: Stallion
Spirit: Sun
Description: Horcrux is a dark palomino. His body is a brilliant, dark, chocolaty gold. Dappled decently over his shoulders, flanks, chest, and neck. His mane and tail are thick and creme. His mane rolls past his neck, and his tail drags two inches too long on the ground. His legs are stockinged. Both front legs bear knee high white stockings, and his back are covered past the hocks. He has the bald-faced mark, causing both eyes to be a sharp, icy blue.
Personality: Horcrux is a stunning example of a stallion. Calm, cool, and collected. Sweet, gentle and lovable. He can be snappy, but only when pushed to the limit. He would never harm and mare, but other stallion's, he has no problem with. He will always gladly take on a challenge.
History: Horcrux was always the adventurous type. He wandered from his family many times a day. One day he wandered a bit too far, getting himself lost. His herd got tired of waiting for the yearling, so they left where they had been. When Horcrux had finally found his home again, no one was there. So he stayed on his own and grew up by himself. Now six years old, he's witnessed the rough life of being alone.
Role-Playing Example: [&] The stallion edged along the outskirts of the tree line. A snort billowed from his thin nostrils as the sun beat down even harder on his gold body. His strides swayed slightly as he walked, snowy tail whispering along behind him. His mane rippled along as a gentle breeze carried it away, before it reached the end of its length and snapped back into place on the left side of his thick neck. Why was he here? It wasn't really important. Wandering was what he did best. What he loved. Maybe he would settle down at some time. Claim a land for himself, but for now, he waltzed by the tree line.
[&] Boredom taking over, Horcrux ducked his head to avoid colliding with a branch as he dove into the woodland. His blue eyes studied his surroundings, finding a clear path before he strut out into a trot, bouncing easily over roots and broken branches. Twigs grabbed at him, drawing minuscule drops of blood as he refused to let them hold him. An adventure this forest would be. He hit a root and pitched forward, breaking into a canter to keep himself from falling, instead of slowing, he briskly corrected himself and cantered deeper into the unknown.
Password: Aspen!
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H◯я©ɹ∩✖
Dec 14, 2008 12:43:03 GMT -5
Post by Aspen on Dec 14, 2008 12:43:03 GMT -5
ACCEPTED
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