sky } female { war mare

[skytracker]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] Character Name: Sky Pronounced: sky Gender: female Age: the ripe old age of three Rank: war mare Appearance: Sky is short. Even by mustang standards, she's on the small side. At only 12 hh, most war horses tower over her. There are several disadvantages to being that size. One: she was so little it always felt like one of the other war horses could step on her. Two: when she took a blow from a horse that was twice her size, like most of them were, it broke bones. In fact, if she hasn't been eating lately, and her sides are viewed, the places where her ribs have been fractured and 'healed' are obviously visible. Three: she can't reach the damn apples on the trees in the spring. Yes, the poor beast has to ask for help, or beat her hooves on the tree until the apples fall. (Yes, it's her favorite food.) For a parallel, being short can be advantageous. Namely: speed and agility. Her job in war is to flit around deliver messages. Don't get me wrong, the spitfire has the ability and training to fight or she would not call herself a war mare, but her strong point is speed. If she does fight someone who's bigger than her and is accurate, she'll die. It really is that simple. Luckilly, she's picky in who she fights. Her body is lithe and nimble, making it easy to flit around an opponent until he or she is exhausted. Also, her hooves, being of a smaller size, tend to cut into flesh if she aims right. Unfortunately, Sky doesn't have the power to deal many blows like that. She is fast on her hooves and almost silent. Basically, she's more of a scout or outrider than ever an actual battle horse. As far as physical appearance goes, with a pelt the color of sunbaked earth in the heat of summer and charcoal socks, Sky is beautiful. A long ebony mane tickles her hocks, and when the line is followed down her back, her tail almost reaches the dirt. Eyes the deepest brown, well...almost. Her eye color actually changes with her blood pressure. This usually means that the more pissed she is, the lighter shade of brown her eyes will become. The converse is true as well: the calmer she is, the darker brown they are. Her eyes are never a color other than a piercing brown orb that seems to see to the very soul. She wishes that were true. Personality: Sky is like an ancient leather bound key lock book. The kind of book that looks like it could eat you, and you only find it in the 'restricted' area of some old castle out in the middle of nowhere that everyone thinks is haunted. Thing is, when looking at this book, one automatically guesses that not only 'can' it eat you, it will eat you...but most books as such are filled with fairy tales. Well...the Brothers Grimm version of fairy tales, but they're still fairy tales right? Anyway, the key's probably down some dark passage that you can't find because it's behind the revolving wall that doesn't exist, in a box, on a chain, around some dead guy's neck. Also, if you manage to find the key and kill the zombies that try to get you once you take the key from the box with whoever's haunted rotting corpse plus unlock the book, you then have to read the damn thing. The book itself is several stories all being told at the same time by different points of view and using words the average person would have to look up. On top of that, it's in code. It'd be easier for a blind and deaf infant missing part of his frontal lobe to understand quantum physics than it would be for Einstein to understand that jumbled mess. Do you really want to try? If you think you, by some miracle, have the mental capacity to make sense of this particular horse, know this: she's hotheaded, rash, quick to jump to conclusions, easily annoyed, usually irritable, loyal, proud, obnoxious, moody if it's before noon, and -somewhere deep down- a good 'person'. That's not even a half of a half of a quarter of it. Her tongue is sharp; her hooves, sharper. She cannot stand being wrong. On the off chance one catches her when she is, in fact, not accurate, well...she'll probably just walk away, but that's besides the point. Also, she hates those who are entirely too naturally chipper, doesn't quite know how to act around other mares, doesn't really want to be in the same place for any form of extended period of time but can amazingly get along, if she has to, with just about anyone. Oh, and she has a slight problem with any and all forms of authority even though her loyalty is probably her biggest weakness. Get all that? Good luck on guessing the rest. Ok, I'll be a little nicer than that. Basically, if a war lord can gain Sky's trust by some superhorse deed that she deems acceptable, said war lord will never lose her respect. Loyalty, however, is harder to gain. A war lord, or any stag for that matter, must meet a certain criteria. Unfortunately, when a stallion has that loyalty, Sky will happily, and sometimes blindly, lay her life on the line on any given moment. BUT! she has a horrible time keeping her mouth shut. She will mouth off, but honestly, she means well. If Sky has something to say, she doesn't usually mean to be a rude bitch, but she's going to say it anyway. So really, there are ups and downs to Sky's personality. On the good side, there's that she's loyal and would never lie to her "Lord" or do anything to cause him strife. On the bad side, her loyalty will probably be the death of her...well, that or her tongue. Rp Sample: The trees looked unforgiving with thier moss hanging, reaching toward the earth like lovedrunk fingers. Reaching for what? Who knows. Maybe the nutrients in the silent earth. Unlikely, for the moss got everything it needed from the tree it grew from. The trees. Tall, dark, uninviting in the pale moonlight. In a way, it was beautiful. Then again, it could instill a fear in the heart of the bravest beast. The way they wound their way up to the heavens with shadows dancing still upon their limbs, almost eerie. The fog aided in the general sense of bleakness with its winding tendrils of humidity traipsing through the dark trunks of the forest. Of course, none of this ran through the being's mind as she -- for she was as female as any hag to ever walk -- silently treaded upon the forest floor. It was not entirely her fault, for she did have other things to think about. Namely, where the nearest clean river was. She had already passed two creeks that were still tinted with the poison of war. Years of breeding had made it her instinct to turn her nares away and continue walking, searching. Her lungs expelled a deep breath; a weight lifted from her shoulders as the air warmed by her body heat entered the atmos before her. A smile glinted in her eyes as her fog added to the fog around her. How was she supposed to live like this? There was a time, back before she could remember, that life was filled with life, not this dull wandering she was used to now. Now, like most days, she was walking, searching, running, silent. Ever watchful, ever thinking. She could not remember what had happened. Every time she got close, like she was now, she relived the pain of that day: the day she woke up with no knowledge of who or what she was. It had been almost a year, she was sure. How can time pass so slowly and quickly at the same time? she asked herself for the hundredth time. Why is it I can't remember? The beast's beautiful head tossed. A nicker escaped her velvets. This was a daily event as of late. The only she could bring to the front of her mind was screams of pain, the clash of hooves, the bloodstained grass, and a terrible, terrible pain in her head. She had awoken a few days later, having been left for dead, with no memory of what had happened. Sky...what's wrong with you? she asked herself. Time had finally allowed her to remember her own name, her age, even what species of beast she belonged to: that of the mighty war horse. But as far as what actually happened, the poor hag does not remember. A sudden pain shot through her side much like a knife through butter. Amazingly, the mare didn't even blink. She was used to such pains. Her battle scars would always cause some form of strife. In the case of her ribs, they had never healed quite right. If she didn't eat, even a stranger could see that the bones didn't quite line up like they should have. There was a sound from somewhere to her left. Auds swiveled, followed by orbs, searching for the source. There, playing in the safety of the roots of a nearby tree, a group of young squirrels were playing tackle. I guess I can take the time to watch... she thought and granted herself the few minutes to be amused with the antics of baby squirrels. Other: Ok...hrms... Round two! Sky was in the war and fought valiantly, but she was hit in the head. It knocked her out and almost erased her memory. She is slowly remembering her life before the battle and the battle itself.

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[`` OWNER]

Accepted. Considering we've already discussed everything else where x0

She was hit in the head in the war and the concussion added to the overwhelming doom of war caused her severe temporary memory loss - Um, confuses me. I see what you are getting at, but considering the idea was betwen me and you, other's will probably be oblivious. Please edit this to make more sense when you get the chance.