Post by rayne on May 31, 2007 21:06:17 GMT -5
Name: Rayne
Age: Three
Breed: Shire
Lineage: Asha and Immanuel
Height: 18 hands
Sex: Sire
Children: None
Place Of Birth: Deep Forest
Physical Characteristics:
(There’s more about the appearance in the sample RP)
Personality: Rayne is a gloomy sire lacking discipline. He doesn’t spend much time listening to what higher-ups have to say to or about him. For being a dark stallion he shows uncanny dedication to certain “heavenly” virtues. Humility, composure, temperance…he reflects them all. He isn’t greedy, but he’s by no means charitable. He can’t say much for chastity either. Rayne isn’t as malevolent and villainous as most hollows, but he could never call himself a light, and the indifferents bothered him all together. Something irked him about how they wouldn’t take a side, it seemed cowardly to him. So there was Rayne, bitter from his past wondering the land of the hollows.
Sample Post: Rayne dragged his hooves as he made his way through thick underbrush, occasionally maneuvering around ancient oak trees. The soggy land beneath him was clinging to his daggers, weighing him down even more. He trudged along until he came to a stream. He arched his neck, long, unkempt mane almost touching the water. The tip of his muzzle delicately touched the water, like a mother would have touched a new-born foal. He didn’t drink though. He hadn’t in two days. It was as if his mind had departed into the next world, and was impatiently waiting for his body to draw a final breath and fall once and for all.
He let out a massive sigh as he raised his head back up, little drops of water dripping from his muzzle. He raised his head high into the air, his nostrils flaring taking in scents that surrounded him. His ears flickered back and forth trying to catch any noise that was near. He wasn’t alone, and he knew it. He stomped his back hoof impatiently and glanced behind himself. He flared his nostrils once more, the vague smell dissipating into the scent of an oncoming storm. Almost as soon as he had sensed it, the storm was on top of him. The little flints of sunlight that had glittered on the surface of the stream like sliver disappeared now as a dark shadow came over it. Rain fell from the sky like bullets.
Rayne gazed down at his abysmal reflection distorted by the harsh pellets of rain that where quick to murky the water. He took a step forward, both of his hoofs in the water. The current was increasing rapidly, taking with it little particles of dirt that had caked on his hooves, and carrying them far off. His hooves where clean…for a while at least. He had the appearance of an angel that had fallen to hell. His coat, once glistening and white, was now overgrown and matted with clumps of dirt on his haunches. His mane and tail were mangy and tangled. His forelock hung in his eyes. He clumsily shook his head to clear his line of vision. He took another deep breath and began to drink the water.
Age: Three
Breed: Shire
Lineage: Asha and Immanuel
Height: 18 hands
Sex: Sire
Children: None
Place Of Birth: Deep Forest
Physical Characteristics:
(There’s more about the appearance in the sample RP)
Personality: Rayne is a gloomy sire lacking discipline. He doesn’t spend much time listening to what higher-ups have to say to or about him. For being a dark stallion he shows uncanny dedication to certain “heavenly” virtues. Humility, composure, temperance…he reflects them all. He isn’t greedy, but he’s by no means charitable. He can’t say much for chastity either. Rayne isn’t as malevolent and villainous as most hollows, but he could never call himself a light, and the indifferents bothered him all together. Something irked him about how they wouldn’t take a side, it seemed cowardly to him. So there was Rayne, bitter from his past wondering the land of the hollows.
Sample Post: Rayne dragged his hooves as he made his way through thick underbrush, occasionally maneuvering around ancient oak trees. The soggy land beneath him was clinging to his daggers, weighing him down even more. He trudged along until he came to a stream. He arched his neck, long, unkempt mane almost touching the water. The tip of his muzzle delicately touched the water, like a mother would have touched a new-born foal. He didn’t drink though. He hadn’t in two days. It was as if his mind had departed into the next world, and was impatiently waiting for his body to draw a final breath and fall once and for all.
He let out a massive sigh as he raised his head back up, little drops of water dripping from his muzzle. He raised his head high into the air, his nostrils flaring taking in scents that surrounded him. His ears flickered back and forth trying to catch any noise that was near. He wasn’t alone, and he knew it. He stomped his back hoof impatiently and glanced behind himself. He flared his nostrils once more, the vague smell dissipating into the scent of an oncoming storm. Almost as soon as he had sensed it, the storm was on top of him. The little flints of sunlight that had glittered on the surface of the stream like sliver disappeared now as a dark shadow came over it. Rain fell from the sky like bullets.
Rayne gazed down at his abysmal reflection distorted by the harsh pellets of rain that where quick to murky the water. He took a step forward, both of his hoofs in the water. The current was increasing rapidly, taking with it little particles of dirt that had caked on his hooves, and carrying them far off. His hooves where clean…for a while at least. He had the appearance of an angel that had fallen to hell. His coat, once glistening and white, was now overgrown and matted with clumps of dirt on his haunches. His mane and tail were mangy and tangled. His forelock hung in his eyes. He clumsily shook his head to clear his line of vision. He took another deep breath and began to drink the water.
