![ICE[corpsey] Avatar](http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b118/CrazehRiley/th48328.gif)
Post by ICE[corpsey] on Jul 5, 2007 19:06:36 GMT -5
Character name: Ice
Gender: Female
Age: Adult, four years
History [if available]: to be revealed. dun dun dun.
Example post [MUST be 500 words or more]: Not only did this stallion have balls enough, but this was one of his days when he had decided to abandon all sense. He had his own land, his own place, the Fire Grasses. He had a land which he would protect with his life, he'd bring down his sharp hooves on any stallion's head who tried to take it from him. He was a mad pony, sanity something that he had grasp of but tended to let wander... After all, who needed sanity? It was for the weak and the helpless – so he just let his do what it wanted.
He was a pony who wasn't a mare-gatherer, but didn't care how they felt about him. Antler was mean, vicious, and when he claimed something you could guarantee that they just crossed the river Styx, they just stepped foot onto the other side, they’d sealed their fate. They would tread on hell grounds, now. He was looking for true, dark mares: not just those with dark blood, but dark hearts. He needed those who could stand the heat, the sweat and tears and blood that would come with his leadership. He needed those who would stand by him in return. He didn't protect those of faint heart, he protected those would could stand the heat.
Antler strode through the Meadows with his head held high, stepping high, alternating pace as he circled the area. Sometimes he would walk by, eying up a mare only to deem her unfit, to light hearted. She might be to shy, too immature or naïve. She didn’t know what it was to be claimed; she just knew that she was lonely. Other times she might have a stallion courting her already and he'd laugh. Then, he'd pick up a quick trot, head still held high - it didn't matter to him that it left a bit of soreness in his chest, pride was all that mattered, image was everything here. He knew that pain was something that he would have to suffer, if he couldn’t look wonderful than the mares wouldn’t be impressed with him, than Antler was finished, gone, out of there. Then when he saw no decent mare in sight, he would begin to canter about, throw his head high over and over again with a breath that indicated a great amount of effort.
And oh - what mare was this, that she caught his attention? The stallion's eyes glittered as his canter suddenly jerked back into a walk. He slowed considerably, eyes roving over her. She looked a tad bit taller than him, but that didn't ever matter. This mare looked strong and dark - he got this vibe. He snorted, threw his head up and moved forwards.
This stallion's blond mane fell partially into his eyes, dark, watching her - oh la, la.. She was even better up close. Antler spoke in a throaty tone, "Dear, I assume you are of the Darks. This I can almost feel." Really, it was no more than a guess. But Antler wouldn't say this.
"My name is Antler and I rule over the Fire Grasses. What name belongs to you, and who do you follow?" Oh, he knew, she must be alone. Why else would she be here, at the claiming grounds? She was either a very dumb pony, or one who knew that claiming was evident and did not want to evade it any longer.
Picture [not necessary]: x
Gender: Female
Age: Adult, four years
History [if available]: to be revealed. dun dun dun.
Example post [MUST be 500 words or more]: Not only did this stallion have balls enough, but this was one of his days when he had decided to abandon all sense. He had his own land, his own place, the Fire Grasses. He had a land which he would protect with his life, he'd bring down his sharp hooves on any stallion's head who tried to take it from him. He was a mad pony, sanity something that he had grasp of but tended to let wander... After all, who needed sanity? It was for the weak and the helpless – so he just let his do what it wanted.
He was a pony who wasn't a mare-gatherer, but didn't care how they felt about him. Antler was mean, vicious, and when he claimed something you could guarantee that they just crossed the river Styx, they just stepped foot onto the other side, they’d sealed their fate. They would tread on hell grounds, now. He was looking for true, dark mares: not just those with dark blood, but dark hearts. He needed those who could stand the heat, the sweat and tears and blood that would come with his leadership. He needed those who would stand by him in return. He didn't protect those of faint heart, he protected those would could stand the heat.
Antler strode through the Meadows with his head held high, stepping high, alternating pace as he circled the area. Sometimes he would walk by, eying up a mare only to deem her unfit, to light hearted. She might be to shy, too immature or naïve. She didn’t know what it was to be claimed; she just knew that she was lonely. Other times she might have a stallion courting her already and he'd laugh. Then, he'd pick up a quick trot, head still held high - it didn't matter to him that it left a bit of soreness in his chest, pride was all that mattered, image was everything here. He knew that pain was something that he would have to suffer, if he couldn’t look wonderful than the mares wouldn’t be impressed with him, than Antler was finished, gone, out of there. Then when he saw no decent mare in sight, he would begin to canter about, throw his head high over and over again with a breath that indicated a great amount of effort.
And oh - what mare was this, that she caught his attention? The stallion's eyes glittered as his canter suddenly jerked back into a walk. He slowed considerably, eyes roving over her. She looked a tad bit taller than him, but that didn't ever matter. This mare looked strong and dark - he got this vibe. He snorted, threw his head up and moved forwards.
This stallion's blond mane fell partially into his eyes, dark, watching her - oh la, la.. She was even better up close. Antler spoke in a throaty tone, "Dear, I assume you are of the Darks. This I can almost feel." Really, it was no more than a guess. But Antler wouldn't say this.
"My name is Antler and I rule over the Fire Grasses. What name belongs to you, and who do you follow?" Oh, he knew, she must be alone. Why else would she be here, at the claiming grounds? She was either a very dumb pony, or one who knew that claiming was evident and did not want to evade it any longer.
Picture [not necessary]: x
