Post by Foster on Mar 25, 2015 19:41:55 GMT -5
FOSTER
Name: Foster
Pronunciation: fɒs.tər
Alias:
Pronunciation:
Age: Three
Gender: Male
Magic: Terran
Allegiance: Terran
Pronunciation: fɒs.tər
Alias:
Pronunciation:
Age: Three
Gender: Male
Magic: Terran
Allegiance: Terran
Appearance
Build: Exotic, light
Height: 17hh
Base: Light brown
Eyes: Pale green
Markings: Fawn spots
Mane: Long, very pale brown
Tail: Lion, long
Additions: Large branch horns, one is broken but will eventually grow back
Apparel: Will eventually hang things he finds off his antlers
Other: Hind feathering
Reference: Ref
Height: 17hh
Base: Light brown
Eyes: Pale green
Markings: Fawn spots
Mane: Long, very pale brown
Tail: Lion, long
Additions: Large branch horns, one is broken but will eventually grow back
Apparel: Will eventually hang things he finds off his antlers
Other: Hind feathering
Reference: Ref
Personality
Quiet Foster is not a relatively talkative horse, he prefers the quiet of the forest and that has transferred into his personality. That does not mean he is going to go out of his way to avoid conversation, he's just not one to initiate contact. And when he does speak it is of few words, unless it is something he is particularly interested in.
Neutral Some may call him bland, but Foster is extremely neutral in most situations. He doesn't express emotion very well and often has a rather blank expression on his face. He considers this to be his version of a mask. However, when is passionate about something it is very readable on his features.
Protective He is incredibly protective and territorial over any area of forest, particularly the one where he was born. He will do anything in his power to protect the land he loves. This is the only time Foster will be confrontational as he is fully aware his body is not made for fighting.
Lonely Even in the biggest group of horses, Foster will feel completely alone. Losing his mother at such a young age and never knowing his sire has left a void in his chest. It is not that he does not enjoy the company of others, but that he does not feel as if they are truly 'there.'
Generous He will go out of his way to help any creature in need, whether it be equine or smaller. He does not like the horse of Ignatum magic, but he does not discriminate toward a horse in trouble or hurt.
Neutral Some may call him bland, but Foster is extremely neutral in most situations. He doesn't express emotion very well and often has a rather blank expression on his face. He considers this to be his version of a mask. However, when is passionate about something it is very readable on his features.
Protective He is incredibly protective and territorial over any area of forest, particularly the one where he was born. He will do anything in his power to protect the land he loves. This is the only time Foster will be confrontational as he is fully aware his body is not made for fighting.
Lonely Even in the biggest group of horses, Foster will feel completely alone. Losing his mother at such a young age and never knowing his sire has left a void in his chest. It is not that he does not enjoy the company of others, but that he does not feel as if they are truly 'there.'
Generous He will go out of his way to help any creature in need, whether it be equine or smaller. He does not like the horse of Ignatum magic, but he does not discriminate toward a horse in trouble or hurt.
History
Foster loved his mother. She was intelligent and kind, but also strong minded. She could have commanded armies if she had put her mind to it. Never knowing his father caused the stallion to cling to his mother like damp clothing. He followed her everywhere, like a shadow. While Foster's antlers were impressive, his mother's were even large. Her body was thick and bulging like some sort of draft, yet Foster was lithe and narrow; obviously more hotblooded. The only evidence of Foster's draft blood being his hind feathers. His mother's antlers were so large they intertwined and grew together in makeshift braids and her pelt was white as snow.
When Foster was still young they were out having a graze, and he was of course right by her side. From a young age his mother warned him about his antlers, never get them caught in anything and so he made sure he was just far enough he didn't get caught up in hers.
And then a deafening crack sounded and a nearby tree fell to the ground. Foster was barely a year old at this point, still awkwardly put together and not made for anything but fleeing. The sound of thundering hooves and burning trees rung through his ears. The treaty was over.
His mother and he took off galloping as fast as they could to out run the flaming creatures behind them. And if only speed had been their only problem. Foster was small enough that he ducked the branches, his antlers barely scraping by every time. But his mother got caught up in an oak tree. He ran back but with tears in her ears she told him to run. And so he did.
Only two years later Foster is still mourning the loss of his mother and tends to wander through the forest. He feels a close connection to the forest and he stays relatively close to the tree that caused the death of his mother. His antlers are made of branches, but his entire life he hasn't grown a single leaf or flower on them because his heart is still broken.
When Foster was still young they were out having a graze, and he was of course right by her side. From a young age his mother warned him about his antlers, never get them caught in anything and so he made sure he was just far enough he didn't get caught up in hers.
And then a deafening crack sounded and a nearby tree fell to the ground. Foster was barely a year old at this point, still awkwardly put together and not made for anything but fleeing. The sound of thundering hooves and burning trees rung through his ears. The treaty was over.
His mother and he took off galloping as fast as they could to out run the flaming creatures behind them. And if only speed had been their only problem. Foster was small enough that he ducked the branches, his antlers barely scraping by every time. But his mother got caught up in an oak tree. He ran back but with tears in her ears she told him to run. And so he did.
Only two years later Foster is still mourning the loss of his mother and tends to wander through the forest. He feels a close connection to the forest and he stays relatively close to the tree that caused the death of his mother. His antlers are made of branches, but his entire life he hasn't grown a single leaf or flower on them because his heart is still broken.
Sample
The forest was eerily silent. Even quieter than it normally was. It seemed as if nothing had yet awoken and a light layer of dew clung to the grass. Tucked away in the crook of a large oak tree was a relatively tall stallion. His legs were long and slender, and daintily tucked under her narrow barrel. His head rested on a large root that protruded from the mossy patch of grass he rested on. The horse's coat was a pale brown, white spots dotted his back like a fawn. From the right side of his skull just behind his ear sprouted a large branch, barren of all leaves. The other side's matching branch was broken and only came off his flesh less than a foot. A few birds were nestled into the branches of the sleeping horse.
As if on cue the forest woke up. The first of the chirping birds song their morning tunes and the soft croak of a toad was heard off in the distance. Heavily lidded moss green eyes fluttered open. Foster's jaw creaked open as a yawn shuddered through is body and he loudly smacked his lips together.
He awkwardly lifted himself to his feet, trying not to wake the birds that were still hiding within his branches.
"Lazy," he muttered under his breath though his words were empty. The pair of sparrows had been his only company for the past few days and he was secretly happy to have them though he still felt alone. His voice was deep and warm, like honey. He stepped quietly as he set off the brook that bubbled only nearby.
Just as he did every morning for the past two years. His mother was never coming back. And yet he waited.
As if on cue the forest woke up. The first of the chirping birds song their morning tunes and the soft croak of a toad was heard off in the distance. Heavily lidded moss green eyes fluttered open. Foster's jaw creaked open as a yawn shuddered through is body and he loudly smacked his lips together.
He awkwardly lifted himself to his feet, trying not to wake the birds that were still hiding within his branches.
"Lazy," he muttered under his breath though his words were empty. The pair of sparrows had been his only company for the past few days and he was secretly happy to have them though he still felt alone. His voice was deep and warm, like honey. He stepped quietly as he set off the brook that bubbled only nearby.
Just as he did every morning for the past two years. His mother was never coming back. And yet he waited.
Played by: KIWI
