Post by sirena on Apr 6, 2007 1:05:36 GMT -5
Name Sirena
Age 4 years
Breed Spanish Mustang
Lineage Unknown names, unknown blood
Height 14.3 hh
Sex Mare
Children None
Place Of Birth Exact area, unknown, somewhere in the high mountains
Physical Characteristics Strong legs, slightly long black fetlocks, red roan coat, and a larger head than a normal horse of her size; just some of her most noticeable characteristics. Sirena's body is of odd proportions, a clear mix of breeds. Her head, fetlocks, and hooves were all marks of a bit of draft blood in her. Yet her long, wavy mane and tail, and her medium-length neck are marks of the Spanish breeds. Oh she is a melting pot of breeds. Her face is black at her maw and then falls to a rusty shade of red as your eyes travel up her face, and then it fades away to a light shade of gray for her entire body. On her left front leg she has a black stocking, while on her other three legs she has black socks. Her hooves are large, like that of a draft horse, and yet her gait is surprisingly smooth.
Personality Kind at times, Sirena's personality can vary slightly depending on who she is talking to. Within her there is a deep instinct for survival, and so she will do anything and everything to protect herself. She does not assist others when it endangers her own life. Some may call her a coward, but she merely thinks of it as logical self-preservation. She believes it's ridiculous to stick your neck out for a stranger. Some have even gone so far as to call her selfish and self-absorbed! But no, that's not the case...some equines just simply aren't worth her time. Indeed she has been known to walk away while another is speaking. She is more of a solitary being even though she cannot stand to be alone.
Even though Sirena has been in many herds, drifting from one to the next, she has always remained detached from the group. It is her defense mechanism. It took her two years to discover that if you never let anyone in, then there was no one there who could hurt you. Yes, she knows her logic is flawed, but still she stands by that theory. Sirena has learned to "play the part" by becoming the one that each equine wishes for. If it is the sympathetic friend that he needs, then she will gladly oblige. There is a sense of duty when it comes to how she behaves around others...and those who see her with different equines may notice the subtle differences in her persona.
Sample Post
[this is a recycled post, you'll have to forgive me but it's midnight and I'm too exhausted to type a fresh post -- Evere is my character from another horse rpg called Sun Streaks ^^]
That strange silence had begun to settle itself again, and again Evere's muscles began to tense involuntarily. Naturally - being as tense as she was - the bizarre sound that she heard next caused her to leap forward. It was an odd, loud sound. Almost a horse, and yet ending on a more donkey-like note. She started forward the instant the brujo began his call, and had to draw herself to a halt shortly lest she run off again. Regal crania rose to its full height and her sleek black ears strained as far forward as they could manage, seemingly attempting to break their connection with her skull. Her body was rigid, each muscle bugling beneath taut skin. The wild, wind-whipped appearance of the mare was both rugged and majestic, such as the mountains she had once called home. For a few moments she was still as a statue, though at last a sound escaped her. It was more like a rumble, vibrating her entire rib cage as the boisterous call rang out from her maw in response.
Proceeding after the deep call the mare began to move, body still tense, and she made her way towards the pequliar equine. He was still equine, no? Even his breed was part of the same branch. It did not matter to her, Evere merely wished for something to break the silence. She had not seen another for some months now, and it had pushed her sanity to its edge. And now, now there was another being with she could converse! Yes, at last someone with who should could exchange words and have a response be returned to her. And yet...was she imagining it? Had it been that long since she had seen another equine that her mind had in fact fabricated one with whom she could speak? This thought struck her as odd, and most likely improbable...and yet it plagued her, tormented her, as she closed the distance between the mule and herself.
Evere soon found herself several yards from the brute and the height difference between the two became increasingly obvious. How curious, the male was nearly a full hand shorter than herself. But why such thought should cross her mind now, she didn't know. The thought passed like a leaf blown on an autumn wind and at last her voice broke the silence. "You are real? Not merely a fabrication of my mind?" Truely absurd first words to speak to a stranger, but she wished to first ascertain that he was not some figment. Evere halted again and now stood with a yard or two of the mule, if he had not shied away from her intimidating figure. Her rich mahogany eyes surveyed him with utmost care, as if scrutinizing some specimen beneath a microscope. Indeed her vision could detect no flaws in the being before her; he was not floating on the air and every detail was sharp and clear...either her mind was playing a great trick on her, or she was in fact standing before another equine. So then, which was he? Figment or reality?
{ooc;...oh yes...p.s. it's been a long time, and it's nice to see you all again
}
