Post by Blame on Jun 9, 2008 21:36:46 GMT -5
Tropical. Now that sounded like his type of place. Sure, it was humid, almost sticky in most senses, but the heat did not bother him as much. He could thank his heritage for some of the abilities he now held, and the stamina to hold out in this type of setting was helpful. But the real thing was; the part that really set him out for tropical --- he was pink. That's right. Rose Grey was the technical term, but why bother with that if he knew the truth, and knew it couldn't; and wouldn't --- matter? He had been picked on for being pink, and a male for most of his life. But he was not girly nor gay as the taunts had been flung at him. He was all male, and more than ready and willing to prove this fact. He was going to make his own way, his own name for himself. And this seemed like a nice place to start. The foliage was nice to look upon, and he knew he would be a striking figure standing among it all. If not ridiculed for his very coat's hue. He wanted to say that he'd gotten over it; that it no longer bothered him; but this was not true. It did bother him. Perhaps it always would. Still, he dealt with all the harsh blows to his ego and moved on. He had to. How else would he prove that he wasn't everything they had said? And the thing was --- he neded to prove it to himself just as much as anyone else. More than anything else, it had to be done. And what better way then to start out with a glorious looking place? It would do well once there were more equines here, but he would be patient; for now. It wouldn't take long before he went out and about again, striving to seek members out for a herd he had every intention of forming here. He wanted it to be grand, vast and well off. But wouldn't any stallion want that as well?
Compatition. He had no problems playing to his strengths here; and he had a few, thanks to dear mother and father. He had never met his sire, and he supposed it was just as well that he hadn't. Still, he knew that his mother's genes dominated his coloring. His mother; the dear Crave, was peach. She had started the oddness, and now he had it --- but worse. His form overall was a nice mix of both parents though. 15.2 hh; Refined head, large, intelligent eyes, and a slightly longer than average neck. He had a slightly convex nose, well sloped shoulders and defined withers. A low set tail and medium length limbs. That was it, all set out. These seemed like good features to have, and although it was the best possible mix that could be --- he was more than happy with it. Only his color had ever been a bother. His eyes weren't bad though. A black void if nothing more. Seeing his soul through them wouldn't work, but he liked it that way. His soul was his own, no one needed to really see it. It would bother him if it happened, if anyone claimed that they could 'read' him. That brought up the very fact he was here for --- to claim. This land would be home, and he wasn't going to let it go, not without a fight. Which could happen, regardless of the lack of other equine scents upon the land. They could come. Just at his challenging call, and he had to be prepared for that. He moved smoothly through the land, setting up his defences, chin tucking down slightly, though his head stayed high. He raised his tail; though it could only go so high, unfortunatly; and called out his claim and challenge. This was his --- and he would let any who stepped hoof here know it. Now, to venture out and see how far the borders went...
Compatition. He had no problems playing to his strengths here; and he had a few, thanks to dear mother and father. He had never met his sire, and he supposed it was just as well that he hadn't. Still, he knew that his mother's genes dominated his coloring. His mother; the dear Crave, was peach. She had started the oddness, and now he had it --- but worse. His form overall was a nice mix of both parents though. 15.2 hh; Refined head, large, intelligent eyes, and a slightly longer than average neck. He had a slightly convex nose, well sloped shoulders and defined withers. A low set tail and medium length limbs. That was it, all set out. These seemed like good features to have, and although it was the best possible mix that could be --- he was more than happy with it. Only his color had ever been a bother. His eyes weren't bad though. A black void if nothing more. Seeing his soul through them wouldn't work, but he liked it that way. His soul was his own, no one needed to really see it. It would bother him if it happened, if anyone claimed that they could 'read' him. That brought up the very fact he was here for --- to claim. This land would be home, and he wasn't going to let it go, not without a fight. Which could happen, regardless of the lack of other equine scents upon the land. They could come. Just at his challenging call, and he had to be prepared for that. He moved smoothly through the land, setting up his defences, chin tucking down slightly, though his head stayed high. He raised his tail; though it could only go so high, unfortunatly; and called out his claim and challenge. This was his --- and he would let any who stepped hoof here know it. Now, to venture out and see how far the borders went...
