Cirino

[D o v e]

CIRINO
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AGE
5 years

GENDER
Stallion

PERSONALITY
Everyone has their charming points and their not-so-charming points, Cirino is no exception. Of course he’d like to say that all his negatives are positives and that he’s the picture of perfection, but we’ll just put a muzzle on the self-centered chap for now. Perhaps his most obvious and often expressed trait is his confidence. He’s not just boastful, he’s flat out arrogant. He is better than you, and that’s all there is to it – oh but don’t worry, he’ll take pity on you poor little mortals. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a god-complex, but sadly it’s getting there. Naturally he doesn’t take losing very well as most of his confidence stems from his battle prowess (the rest hinges on his intelligence). Cirino’s also very easily goaded into doing things he shouldn’t, and, being as pig headed as he is, he doesn’t back down. Nope, once this stallion’s committed to doing something it’ll take nothing short of a lobotomy to make him change his mind. Not to mention he’s quite boorish, and while some things he says are suave and censored, he is, for the most part, vulgar and painfully frank. If he hates you (and has no use for you) he will flat out tell you so. Cirino’s not one for bottling emotions either – he’s quite impulsive. So in addition to telling you hates you (actually he might just skip the telling you bit), he might very well attack you.

Oh dear me, it sounds like he’s just this arrogant, domineering, pig headed prick. However Cirino does have his own rather endearing qualities. To begin with, he is a superb listener (even if he’s thinking you’re dirt under his hooves while you’re speaking) and his attentiveness tends to win him points with the ladies – not to mention he’s also fairly charming. In spite of his belief that almost everyone is inferior to him, Ciri knows when it’s best to turn on the charm and ignore his rather unkind mental commentary. He is also impressively adventurous and self-reliant. If there are new lands to explore, Cirino will be the leader. And due to his self reliance, most people tend to follow his lead. After all; your brave leader doesn’t doubt himself, why should you?

• POSITIVE: Adventurous, attentive, charming, chauvinist, confident, dauntless, decisive, frank, motivated, persistent, proud, self-reliant, shrewd, witty
  
• NEGATIVE: Ambitious, arrogant, boorish, domineering, grouchy, impulsive, jealous, pig headed, possessive, self-centered, unscrupulous, vulgar

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Cirino is a 15.2hh Rocky Mountain Horse of typical coloring. His coat is a warm chocolate brown with eyes to match and a flaxen mane and tail; he has no white markings. He is quite well-muscled (or in his words “chiseled”) with a multitude of scars. There are several on his chest and shoulders, and a few on his withers, some of which were earned through battles. He also has a scar across the hollow above his left eye, one of the many marks he received from his triumphant escape.
Link!

HISTORY
Let us start with Cirino as a young colt. He was born in captivity and he could prattle on about the “evils of man” for hours – thus the use of the muzzle in his aforementioned personality. His foalhood was quite typical; play-fighting with other foals his age, being doted on by his mother. However unlike his fellow domesticated friends, Cirino was always wild at heart. Naturally he’d never actually seen a wild horse, but his young mind was convinced that they were brave, proud and did whatever they pleased. They also didn’t have a mother telling them what to do and how to act – yes, Cirino was a little rebellious. He didn’t want to be patted and pampered by the two-leggeds or his mother.

As silly as it was, he used to go around pretending he was the “big bad wild one”. In their foal games he was always the “wild one” and the others were “fakes” – basically he was just a little-big bully. Small as he was, he was quite the terror. His owners were at a loss on what to do with him by the time he was a yearling. To be honest, he was the most unruly colt they’d ever had. There was simply no approaching him and rather than attempt training him, they quickly deemed him “untamable”. Of course that label suited him just fine. While his friends were being led around with halters and lead ropes like show ponies, Cirino was kicking up his heels and rolling in the green hills of his pasture.

Unfortunately for Cirino, his boasting would come to an abrupt halt as he reached two years of age. He went from vast green pastures to a confined metal box; he could not have been more mortified. And not only was this a cramped metal box, it also moved and made an ungodly amount of noise. The answer to Cirino’s situation was that his owners had changed his label from “untamable” to “horsemeat”; they couldn’t keep a useless horse. Yes, Cirino’s haughty butt was being shipped off to the slaughterhouse. And here begins the story of Cirino’s great escape from the evil moving box of doom.

It was most likely sheer dumb luck (because what kind of stupid god would have put him in that box to begin with) that the person driving Cirino’s prison happened to be running on two hours worth of sleep. And clearly he hadn’t thought to grab himself a cup of joe before getting behind the wheel, because they hadn’t been on the road for more than an hour before it happened. The truck and trailer drifted over into oncoming traffic as its driver took an unintentional snooze, and when shook himself awake he realized with alarm that they were heading for a head-on collision with a semi that they would surely lose. He swerved sharply to the right, throwing Cirino against the side of the trailer, and the semi just clipped the rear of the trailer.

Above the din of screeching brakes and wresting metal was high, shrill whinny of terror. Cirino will never fess up to being scared shitless, but he was practically insane with panic. The truck and trailer separated, both rolled, and by some miracle the trailer landed upright with its not-so-precious precious cargo still alive and relatively unscathed. He some nicks and cuts, gashes and bruising, but luckily no broken bones. To say that right then Cirino was the luckiest horse alive would not have been a lie. Due to the damage, the back gate stood open. The chocolate stallion emerged shaken, his body battered and bruised but not broken, and trotted away from the scene in a daze. Just like that he was free. Who was going to bother looking for a horse destined for slaughter?

He recovered from his injuries, battling infection on one particularly nasty gash across the hollow above his left eye, and was left with a myriad of scars (he’s quite proud of his little medals of freedom). Finally, after two long years of pretending to be a “wild one”, he really was. He was free. No more mother scolding him, no more human hands touching him (or trying to anyway), no, he was genuinely free at last. Of course he was too out of it the first couple weeks to truly appreciate it, but when he finally awoke from his dazed stupor and found himself completely unfettered, Cirino kicked up his heels and set off for parts unknown – which, for him, was everywhere.

Cirino wandered this way and that, no real direction in mind, and after a couple of months he encountered his first real live “wild one”. He hid his childish joy and recounted his harrowing tale of escape from the evil metal box of doom. He had his ego stroked as the other horse praised his bravery and relished the sense of superiority it brought. Oh yes, that was right, Cirino was even better than a born and bred “wild one” – he was, like, superhorse. And that was it, he was hooked. Who could have guessed just how great he was? Cirino was literally drunk on himself, riding the never-ending high of his own awesomeness, and all because (by some freak chance) he had escaped the moving metal box. Huzzah Cirino, king of fortunate flukes.

And so the big-headed stallion continued on, no clue where he was going but always insisting he was heading in the right direction. If he was lost, he wasn’t admitting to it. He ran into countless other wild horses, some who had also set themselves free from the two-leggeds, both mares and stallions alike. Just like any healthy stallion, he took a shine to several beautiful mares along the way. Of course he only mated with one, and only due to her all-encompassing beauty and wit. Oh but Cirino was never seduced, heavens no, he was the one who seduced her. And because it was all by his own doing, he promptly left her and put her palomino perfection out of mind. He doesn’t like to talk about, let alone think about, what he refers to as ‘the incident’ (their mating).

By chance he has wound up here, in Night Sky. He’s not the slight bit curious about how he got here or where ‘here’ is, because ‘here’ was where he has been heading all along – oh the joys of being Cirino. The little monster is quite keen to take a look around and maybe settle in for a bit; three long years of wandering does tend to make ones hooves sore. Besides, he has seen neither hide nor hair of any two-leggeds – amen to that!