Post by Deleted on Jul 14, 2015 5:58:08 GMT
name;; rook
gender;; female
breed;; [saddlebred x anglo-arab] X [quarter horse x andalusian]
genetics;; -_-
age;; 3 years
arrived in tathra;; Spring, Year 1
coat color;; palomino
height: 15.2 hh
eye color: hazel
personality: a singer. she weaves her words into strands of gold, smooth voice echoed by amazed starlings. that being said, her mother had always said that she was charming. so charming, in fact, that she could tell the birds to fall from their perches, and they would obey. quick-witted, with a tongue that can scorch beech-bark and the flirtatious personality one will come to love. she possesses the voice of angels, her howls almost sad but euphoric, as if she has forgotten who she is. and there she is, wings of gold, unable to land, drifting far, far away. if the world was fire, she is water, fast-running, unpredictable and reflecting stars. she opens lips as riddles fall from her maw like prayers, the sphinx at nigh. a smile that is not a smile curves uncertain lips, o, how flighty she is! one moment she’s here, the next, she has gone elsewhere to pursue her formidable ambitions. lips gently open to convey the starry gods, a perpetual smile on her muzzle and arched eyebrows. one could call her air-headed, her mind perpetually losing the battle of reality and euphoria, happy on drugged highs. she is that party girl, all brightly coloured fabrics and scattered glitter, her personality all lemon-drop vodka shots and the booming of a packed club. she's that girl that you can never seem to forget, with cotton candy blessings and the sharp smile.
sample post: she smiles, the incandescent stars pinned to newborn-navy of night. the winking asters are so much more than the muddy terrain she lies on. who needs to touch the stars when she is one herself? fireflies, with their luminous bodies, gently fill the space between her slender muzzle and unreachable sky, the numberings of stars increased tenfold by the lightning bugs saturated the moist darkness with their moist lights. o, how charming it all was, with the delicate silhouettes of owls contoured in slivers of moonlight, and the gentle harmony of crickets kissing the air with assured softness. the air is filled with a muted flashing of things that went bump in the night. pine-aroma'd air wafted into the already filled expanse of air, the earthy rank of the mud twirling throughout the dancing fireflies. rook was content, and it seemed the sky was, too. rook was, at heart, a party girl, all wistful voice and eyes of lust, to raise an umpteenth glass of wine before waking up drunk and puking into white bedspread. an airy smile lit her features, lashes lowered and lids half-shut. what did people say? look at the stars, see how they shine for you. how sublime. a gentle grin the curled lips lapsed into a lopsided, almost drunken smile. perhaps this was all a dream, threads of euphoria woven into the fabric of reality. the mare often had trouble distinguishing genuine worlds from her fantasies, yet that might just have been a matter of thought/ after all, could one dream about thinking while thinking? it seemed indeed possible, why not?
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From a rating of one to ten [ten being the best], what would you rate MUSTANG?;; 5 'cause i don't wanna discriminate jk 10!
What do you suggest we do next/improve?: dftba
Where did you find us?: you advertised this site on doutaini
What would you like to be called?: rook
gender;; female
breed;; [saddlebred x anglo-arab] X [quarter horse x andalusian]
genetics;; -_-
age;; 3 years
arrived in tathra;; Spring, Year 1
coat color;; palomino
height: 15.2 hh
eye color: hazel
personality: a singer. she weaves her words into strands of gold, smooth voice echoed by amazed starlings. that being said, her mother had always said that she was charming. so charming, in fact, that she could tell the birds to fall from their perches, and they would obey. quick-witted, with a tongue that can scorch beech-bark and the flirtatious personality one will come to love. she possesses the voice of angels, her howls almost sad but euphoric, as if she has forgotten who she is. and there she is, wings of gold, unable to land, drifting far, far away. if the world was fire, she is water, fast-running, unpredictable and reflecting stars. she opens lips as riddles fall from her maw like prayers, the sphinx at nigh. a smile that is not a smile curves uncertain lips, o, how flighty she is! one moment she’s here, the next, she has gone elsewhere to pursue her formidable ambitions. lips gently open to convey the starry gods, a perpetual smile on her muzzle and arched eyebrows. one could call her air-headed, her mind perpetually losing the battle of reality and euphoria, happy on drugged highs. she is that party girl, all brightly coloured fabrics and scattered glitter, her personality all lemon-drop vodka shots and the booming of a packed club. she's that girl that you can never seem to forget, with cotton candy blessings and the sharp smile.
sample post: she smiles, the incandescent stars pinned to newborn-navy of night. the winking asters are so much more than the muddy terrain she lies on. who needs to touch the stars when she is one herself? fireflies, with their luminous bodies, gently fill the space between her slender muzzle and unreachable sky, the numberings of stars increased tenfold by the lightning bugs saturated the moist darkness with their moist lights. o, how charming it all was, with the delicate silhouettes of owls contoured in slivers of moonlight, and the gentle harmony of crickets kissing the air with assured softness. the air is filled with a muted flashing of things that went bump in the night. pine-aroma'd air wafted into the already filled expanse of air, the earthy rank of the mud twirling throughout the dancing fireflies. rook was content, and it seemed the sky was, too. rook was, at heart, a party girl, all wistful voice and eyes of lust, to raise an umpteenth glass of wine before waking up drunk and puking into white bedspread. an airy smile lit her features, lashes lowered and lids half-shut. what did people say? look at the stars, see how they shine for you. how sublime. a gentle grin the curled lips lapsed into a lopsided, almost drunken smile. perhaps this was all a dream, threads of euphoria woven into the fabric of reality. the mare often had trouble distinguishing genuine worlds from her fantasies, yet that might just have been a matter of thought/ after all, could one dream about thinking while thinking? it seemed indeed possible, why not?
----------------------
From a rating of one to ten [ten being the best], what would you rate MUSTANG?;; 5 'cause i don't wanna discriminate jk 10!
What do you suggest we do next/improve?: dftba
Where did you find us?: you advertised this site on doutaini
What would you like to be called?: rook
