"Be the change you wish to see in the world"
Co-Admin
|
Post by Kristen on Nov 26, 2013 13:40:56 GMT -6
Name: Fear Itself Nickname(s): Fear Gender: Stallion Alliance: Envious Status: Herd Member Breed(s): Mustang, with traces of warmbloods. Age: Six Years Old Height: 17.1hh Color(s): Ink black, with a completely black mane and tail. Eye Color(s): Icy blue, endless eyes. Some say if you look into them long enough they turn red with pure hatred and the evil inside him. Marking(s): Has the scars of a claw mark running down his neck and shoulder from a wolf attack when he was around two years old. Mate: None as of yet.
Loves: The look of fear in other’s eyes. The smell of blood. Scaring others. Having power over others. Fighting. The presence of others that are just as evil as him. Hates: Fillies. Horses that have “good” in them. Those that don’t hear him (If that’s a thing). Fluffy or cute animals. Fears: Nothing, except losing. Not that that will ever happen. Hopes: He has no hopes, he looks forward to nothing. Personality: Fear is…pure evil. That’s just the easiest way to describe this heartless beast. He clearly is Fear Itself, and that’s all you should really fear. Him. He shows no mercy, he’s cold and unfriendly. He is closed off and distant from others. He doesn’t share anything about himself. Being around him for too long can make others uncomfortable because of the pure hatred that just seems to radiate off of him. He is mad at the world, and everything inside it. History: The night was hot and humid, quite odd for a fall night. A large black mare whinnied in pain while giving birth to her young colt instead of the filly she had been wanting. She began to dislike him then and there, but this is only the start to this colt’s unfortunate tale. Her mate stood guard, but kept his distance as his mate struggled with the birth. He took one glance at his son that night, and that was the only time he looked at his son unless it was a glare. This night just happened to be six years ago, when this little boy was brought into a world full of hate and bitter. Being the Leads of one strong herd, they went on with their lives and hid their displeasure about the new little one. This little black colt did his best to keep them pleased, but it was a futile attempt. He was weak, scrawny, and not very healthy looking. He was not strong enough to get his father's approval, he wasn't anything his mother wanted. And then just like that, his parents tossed him aside. Of course they still took care of him, they watched over him and his mother fed him. But in their minds he was already an orphaned foal, only in their care for a short time before they could finally cast him aside. In their minds, he was nothing but something that wasn't worth living, something that they weren't proud of. His mother kept him, but only long enough for him to be weaned. Then that cruel mare faked his death and abandoned him within the confinement of large towering trees, thinking that nature would take its course. Leaving him to waste away, to never think of that pathetic excuse of a foal again. He didn't know what to do, how he would survive. Far too young to be alone, but he had no choice now. He barely made it through the night, which grew colder by the minute until he thought he would freeze. Other lone horses trotted by, laughing and turning their heads away. Not wanting to help this little one. Seeing only what his parents saw, nothing but dirt. Like he wasn't even there. Age two came around, he was trotting through the trees, keeping away from others when he had his first encounter with a mangy wolf. A large, sandy brown wolf appeared out of no where, shooting out from a large bush. His jaws opened, catching this two year old stag by the neck and ripping him to the ground. He whinnied out in pain, while this wolf tore into his neck ruthlessly. Fighting back, the wolf turned and took off, a young wolf it must have been. His neck bled profusely, but as time wore on, his wound healed. Now only just a long scar along his muscular neck and down his shoulder to remind him of that day he neared death once more. Soon, he had forgotten that herd, he had tried to forget his parents. Pushing their faint memories into the back of his mind. Living his life day to day, his life changed drastically. His voice turned icy, cold, dark, evil. His large black body was intimidating to most. He stood at a bit more than seventeen hands high, larger than most other horses his age. He shows no emotion. He's a closed book, hidden on a far up shelf, away from sight, away from touch. None can help a damaged soul such as his. Fights and battles helped make him who he is today. He never lost a fight, horses bowed down to him. Building an image for himself. He grew faster, stronger, and much wiser. He was and still is superior to other horses. He gives no mercy nor pity. Pure muscle, his neck, his chest, and his legs are all broad, all well toned with defined muscles. None can stare into his ocean blue, never ending eyes. He has no soul, he has no secrets. He has no weaknesses. His parents fear him, they are nothing to him. They run, they hide, but he seeks them out with ease. With each step, he sends shivers down your spine, with each whinny, he makes you wish you were no longer. There is nothing to fear but Fear Itself. Played by: Kristen
|
|