Post by Deleted on Jan 8, 2019 9:05:25 GMT -7
So I am going to go a head and offer this girl up for adoption. I just don't have the muse for her as I want something dramatic to happen and am having no luck lol. I do not require an audition thread for her, however I do require that should you not like her she is given back to me, not killed off or adopted out. She has a current disaster up if the adopter is interested in it as well <3
Name: Sliver
Gender: Female
Age: 4
Breed: american paint horse
Height: fifteen hands
Colour: grullo tobiano
Markings: tobiano
Personality: see bio below
History: see bio below
Other: see above info
Link to Creation/Breeding Bio: wildequinesv3.proboards.com/thread/32221/sliver
Original Roleplayer: myself
Terms*: if she no longer wants her to ask me first before killing off or adopting out.
back to basics
alias: sliver
known by: none other
aged: four years
aligned: unaligned
preference: males
sex: mare
bloodline: american paint horse
appearance: grullo tobiano
marred: tobiano pattern
pools: icy blue
dreads: white/grullow
standing: fifteen hands
genetics: EE/aa/DD/TT
mentally: stable
physically: emaciated
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, a famous saying that could describe many a fellow equine. However for Sliver that is not really the case. Though she is a mare in most physical aspects, she has never really been 'in tune' with her feminine side. Though she has the womanly curves as many have pointed out, she does not move with 'grace' or 'poise'. Her bloodline is true to the generations of muscle and stature, giving her the tone of a well rounded 'thick' horse. Going along with the looks her personality is not much different. She has never found the necessity in following the typical 'mare' routine. She has always ran with the boys, so to speak, growing up and even in her older adolescent years. She has a fondness for all things dirty, especially mud. There was many a times that her parents nearly did not recognize her because she would flounce back to her heard all a single color. Though her mother would scold her for her lack of lady like behavior, her father was more amused and fed into such behavior. He was not one to follow the stereo type himself.
To say that she was a daddies girl would be an understatement. The young filly was glued to her fathers hip from the get go, much to her mothers dismay. Her father was never a high ranking member of his herd, but he did have a status of respect amongst his peers, and thus everybody knew about the young filly that was always following in his shadow. Several times the young colts would try to gang up on the filly, telling her that it was not her place to follow a stallion around. With a little encouragement from her father, Sliver learned how to stand her ground agains them, and thus developed a slight complex against bullies and empty threats. As the years went on she herself grew closer to the colts, anyone that was willing to act like she wasn't going to break at the smallest touch. She was not afraid to get rough with the stud colts or even end up rolling in the dirt. However when it came to putting herself in the spot light, she will avoid it all costs. She is not one for trying to gain attention or favors. Shed rather be a loner, following her own path in the road.
With the death of her father, Sliver became slightly depressed, incomplete in her mind. The loner part of her personality slightly took over more, as she withdrew farther and farther from those she had grown close. Though she is still her normal, non graceful self, there is a slight darkness that follows her, haunting her every waking move. With the death of her father she believes that a piece of her died as well, and thus that she will never be whole again.
Sliver was born in a semi-average herd. Though there was the typical tiers of leadership with the leads and betas, the herd was composed of several different mares and stallions, mates and non. There was an air of respect among all of them regardless of their standings and views, and for the most part their lives were rather peaceful, except for the occasional skirmish between stallions or mares. Sliver was born to a rather respected stallion and mare, though the fact that they would have been mates would shock almost anybody. Slivers father was a very laid back, well rounded stallion, a take things as they come type of guy. While her mother was more uptight, concerning herself with the views of others on her and her family. Sliver herself was some what of a mix of the two both physically and mentally. Her father was a proud, stout black stud, though paint carried in his lines, the only colored markings he bore were that of a large blaze, and four tall stockings. Her mother on the other hand was more lean, slender, her body shimmering ivory in most places except her face, and flank on both sides. Nobody would guess that she was a dun mare besides the fact of the black tail that draped from her rear. Sliver was born the color of new forged steel, the typical patterns of tobiano marking her frame. Though after her 6 month shedding her grulla color darkened enough that she could almost be mistaken for a black pain in certain seasons.
From day one the young filly was attached to her father, much to her mothers dismay. Every chance she could she would wander off in search of the big black stallion, unless he volunteered to take her with him of course. It was not something that was common among her heard, for foals, especially fillies, to follow their sires around, and because of this Sliver found herself the center of bullying quite frequently. The young colts would gang up on her when she would get to far behind her father and pick on her mercilessly, trying to drive her back to the fillies flouncing around with their mothers. Despaired Sliver turned to the one she knew she could trust the most, her father. He never intervened in these colts picking on her, but he did, however, teach and coach her, showing her how to stand up for herself. In time she grew more confident, though growth spurts did not hurt that one bit. Where her mother was petite and slender, she grew more and more like her father. By her second year of life, the young mare already stood 14.2 hands tall, and stood much like a tank.
Eventually the young filly earned the respect of the colts that once tormented her, and with their respect came her group of friends, or well what she would consider friends. Though she would romp and play with their mischievous behaviors, to her fathers amusement and her mothers angst, she was never closer to anybody than her father. It was long after she turned three years old that her mother gave birth to another foal, a young colt, the same dark dun hue of their mothers color, though he had more white than their father, he was dull in comparison to his older sister and mother. With her mothers antics finally turned away from her, the young mare began to branch out farther and farther. She never found herself at home with the fillies and mares that frolicked, so when she wasn't running around with the colts and stallions, she would take to wandering the landscapes, day after day in search of more, curious to the borders that their lands. Though her curiosity would also be her downfall, or well that of her fathers.
It was one particularly clear day that she decided to have one of her tirades. She had never gone very far north from their homeland, so today she decided she would try. The landscape to the north was steep, rocky terrain with narrow trails that wound in and out of the cliff bases. Though she was not graceful, she was surefooted and followed the trails with ease. Her curiosity got the best of her, as she lost track of time, and with seeing the changes in scenery, did not notice the storm that was gathering in the distance. It was the first crack of thunder that awoke her to the present, bringing her senses to high alert. As she noticed the impending storm the young mare had to choose, try to beat the storm home, or find somewhere to shelter. She decided to try and make it back, picking up her pace as much as she dared, the young mare made the decent back down. It didn't take long before she ran into the familiar shape of the black stallion she called her father. He had followed her out upon seeing the storm approach to bring her back, but the storm was quicker then both of them anticipated. Icy rain pelted down across the path and both them both, making the rocks dangerously slick and visibility near impossible to see. They tried to find somewhere to stop and wait the storm out, but the black stallion miscalculated his step, his feet slipped out from under him and in the blink of an eye he was gone.
Panic filled Sliver as she called out mercilessly, blindly she scrambled down to the bottom, nearly falling herself in the race, only to be greeted with the twisted form of the great black stallion. His fall had been broken but a large boulder, which snapped his neck almost instantly. She stayed there, for how long she didn't know, the storm cleared and the days and nights seemed to melt. Only when the sound of voices echoing off the walls of cliffs and crevices did she awaken. Grief and pain ebbing in her heart. She knew they'd blame her, it was her own dumb fault for being out her. She could already hear her mothers disgust that she was the death of her father. Before they could see her, she fled. Fled from the life she forever knew, and into the great unknown beyond.
home: currently none
rank: loner
love: none
interests: none
sire: unknown
dame: unknown
brothers: none
sisters: none
children: none
reference one
pixel one
Name: Sliver
Gender: Female
Age: 4
Breed: american paint horse
Height: fifteen hands
Colour: grullo tobiano
Markings: tobiano
Personality: see bio below
History: see bio below
Other: see above info
Link to Creation/Breeding Bio: wildequinesv3.proboards.com/thread/32221/sliver
Original Roleplayer: myself
Terms*: if she no longer wants her to ask me first before killing off or adopting out.
SLIVER (FROZEN UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE)
HOlding on to so much more than i can carry
HOlding on to so much more than i can carry
back to basics
alias: sliver
known by: none other
aged: four years
aligned: unaligned
preference: males
sex: mare
bloodline: american paint horse
appearance: grullo tobiano
marred: tobiano pattern
pools: icy blue
dreads: white/grullow
standing: fifteen hands
genetics: EE/aa/DD/TT
mentally: stable
physically: emaciated
behind the mask
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, a famous saying that could describe many a fellow equine. However for Sliver that is not really the case. Though she is a mare in most physical aspects, she has never really been 'in tune' with her feminine side. Though she has the womanly curves as many have pointed out, she does not move with 'grace' or 'poise'. Her bloodline is true to the generations of muscle and stature, giving her the tone of a well rounded 'thick' horse. Going along with the looks her personality is not much different. She has never found the necessity in following the typical 'mare' routine. She has always ran with the boys, so to speak, growing up and even in her older adolescent years. She has a fondness for all things dirty, especially mud. There was many a times that her parents nearly did not recognize her because she would flounce back to her heard all a single color. Though her mother would scold her for her lack of lady like behavior, her father was more amused and fed into such behavior. He was not one to follow the stereo type himself.
To say that she was a daddies girl would be an understatement. The young filly was glued to her fathers hip from the get go, much to her mothers dismay. Her father was never a high ranking member of his herd, but he did have a status of respect amongst his peers, and thus everybody knew about the young filly that was always following in his shadow. Several times the young colts would try to gang up on the filly, telling her that it was not her place to follow a stallion around. With a little encouragement from her father, Sliver learned how to stand her ground agains them, and thus developed a slight complex against bullies and empty threats. As the years went on she herself grew closer to the colts, anyone that was willing to act like she wasn't going to break at the smallest touch. She was not afraid to get rough with the stud colts or even end up rolling in the dirt. However when it came to putting herself in the spot light, she will avoid it all costs. She is not one for trying to gain attention or favors. Shed rather be a loner, following her own path in the road.
With the death of her father, Sliver became slightly depressed, incomplete in her mind. The loner part of her personality slightly took over more, as she withdrew farther and farther from those she had grown close. Though she is still her normal, non graceful self, there is a slight darkness that follows her, haunting her every waking move. With the death of her father she believes that a piece of her died as well, and thus that she will never be whole again.
blast from the past
Sliver was born in a semi-average herd. Though there was the typical tiers of leadership with the leads and betas, the herd was composed of several different mares and stallions, mates and non. There was an air of respect among all of them regardless of their standings and views, and for the most part their lives were rather peaceful, except for the occasional skirmish between stallions or mares. Sliver was born to a rather respected stallion and mare, though the fact that they would have been mates would shock almost anybody. Slivers father was a very laid back, well rounded stallion, a take things as they come type of guy. While her mother was more uptight, concerning herself with the views of others on her and her family. Sliver herself was some what of a mix of the two both physically and mentally. Her father was a proud, stout black stud, though paint carried in his lines, the only colored markings he bore were that of a large blaze, and four tall stockings. Her mother on the other hand was more lean, slender, her body shimmering ivory in most places except her face, and flank on both sides. Nobody would guess that she was a dun mare besides the fact of the black tail that draped from her rear. Sliver was born the color of new forged steel, the typical patterns of tobiano marking her frame. Though after her 6 month shedding her grulla color darkened enough that she could almost be mistaken for a black pain in certain seasons.
From day one the young filly was attached to her father, much to her mothers dismay. Every chance she could she would wander off in search of the big black stallion, unless he volunteered to take her with him of course. It was not something that was common among her heard, for foals, especially fillies, to follow their sires around, and because of this Sliver found herself the center of bullying quite frequently. The young colts would gang up on her when she would get to far behind her father and pick on her mercilessly, trying to drive her back to the fillies flouncing around with their mothers. Despaired Sliver turned to the one she knew she could trust the most, her father. He never intervened in these colts picking on her, but he did, however, teach and coach her, showing her how to stand up for herself. In time she grew more confident, though growth spurts did not hurt that one bit. Where her mother was petite and slender, she grew more and more like her father. By her second year of life, the young mare already stood 14.2 hands tall, and stood much like a tank.
Eventually the young filly earned the respect of the colts that once tormented her, and with their respect came her group of friends, or well what she would consider friends. Though she would romp and play with their mischievous behaviors, to her fathers amusement and her mothers angst, she was never closer to anybody than her father. It was long after she turned three years old that her mother gave birth to another foal, a young colt, the same dark dun hue of their mothers color, though he had more white than their father, he was dull in comparison to his older sister and mother. With her mothers antics finally turned away from her, the young mare began to branch out farther and farther. She never found herself at home with the fillies and mares that frolicked, so when she wasn't running around with the colts and stallions, she would take to wandering the landscapes, day after day in search of more, curious to the borders that their lands. Though her curiosity would also be her downfall, or well that of her fathers.
It was one particularly clear day that she decided to have one of her tirades. She had never gone very far north from their homeland, so today she decided she would try. The landscape to the north was steep, rocky terrain with narrow trails that wound in and out of the cliff bases. Though she was not graceful, she was surefooted and followed the trails with ease. Her curiosity got the best of her, as she lost track of time, and with seeing the changes in scenery, did not notice the storm that was gathering in the distance. It was the first crack of thunder that awoke her to the present, bringing her senses to high alert. As she noticed the impending storm the young mare had to choose, try to beat the storm home, or find somewhere to shelter. She decided to try and make it back, picking up her pace as much as she dared, the young mare made the decent back down. It didn't take long before she ran into the familiar shape of the black stallion she called her father. He had followed her out upon seeing the storm approach to bring her back, but the storm was quicker then both of them anticipated. Icy rain pelted down across the path and both them both, making the rocks dangerously slick and visibility near impossible to see. They tried to find somewhere to stop and wait the storm out, but the black stallion miscalculated his step, his feet slipped out from under him and in the blink of an eye he was gone.
Panic filled Sliver as she called out mercilessly, blindly she scrambled down to the bottom, nearly falling herself in the race, only to be greeted with the twisted form of the great black stallion. His fall had been broken but a large boulder, which snapped his neck almost instantly. She stayed there, for how long she didn't know, the storm cleared and the days and nights seemed to melt. Only when the sound of voices echoing off the walls of cliffs and crevices did she awaken. Grief and pain ebbing in her heart. She knew they'd blame her, it was her own dumb fault for being out her. She could already hear her mothers disgust that she was the death of her father. Before they could see her, she fled. Fled from the life she forever knew, and into the great unknown beyond.
blood ties
home: currently none
rank: loner
love: none
interests: none
sire: unknown
dame: unknown
brothers: none
sisters: none
children: none
paint me a portrait
reference one
pixel one
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