Phoenix

[Deleted]

Name: Phoenix
Gender: Female
Breed: Rocky Mountain Horse
Age: Three
Arrived in MUSTANG: Summer, Year Ten
Coat Color: Silver dapple, white diamond -- xx.
Height: 14.2hh
Eye Color: Hazel
'Deformities': Blind left eye, lame right hind leg

Personality:

Phoenix has always had a big heart. She cares deeply for others, even more so for her kith and kin. Loyal to a fault, she can sometimes be blind to other's flaws, sticking staunchly with them, even if they were dead wrong.

Phoenix is probably one of the most cheerful people you'll meet. She is optimistic, even when the situation is dire, and never lets anything get her down for too long. She will always bounce right back, ready and willing to try again.That being said, her one exception is this: Wake her up before sunrise, and you'll get the worst, blistering scolding of your life. She can be sarcastic - loves it, in fact, and sometimes her joking can turn from friendly to hurtful, however, it is never truly intentional. She never holds grudges; they wash of her like water from oil.

Life's far too short to care about such petty things, after all. She knew that better than most.

Determined and stubborn, once she sets her mind to something, even the Gods themselves will be unable to change it. She uses her cunning to circumvent orders, sometimes, which often leads to much exasperation for one party. She is also far too mischievous for her own good - playing pranks on people who sometimes, don't quite appreciate it. She never understands why.

Phoenix enjoys a good, healthy adrenaline rush, hence her penchant to get into mischief. She is not shy, and is more than willing to give anything a try. She is also unable to refuse a dare, or to back down from a challenge.

Phoenix is very sociable, and enjoys other people's company. She is always willing to lend a helping hand. She has a true herd-mentality, and craves the presence of others like water. With her blind eye and lame limb, her exuberance has toned down somewhat, to awkwardness as she meets new people. But, she's trying so very hard to overcome that and regain her normal life.

The mare is both independent and proud - she hates relying on other people for help, especially if it's something she thinks she should be able to get done herself.

Traumatised and hurting from The Battle (see history), Phoenix right now might seem a little timid, a little more vulnerable, a little more depressed. However, at her core is the bright, vivacious dreamer, a spirit that she was hopefully regain with time.

History:

Phoenix had always been a dreamer.

Once, she had dreamed of nothing but war and the glory it would bring.

She had been young and naive then, an innocent filled with childish dreams. She had stars in her eyes, looking at the returning, triumphant warriors who would get a hero's welcome, the entire herd swarming around them in congratulations.

They would get the best grazing grounds, the warmest sleeping areas - everyone knew them and loved them. Their conquering heroes, returned home at last.

What Phoenix did not see, however, was an entire world of loss and despair. Looking at the wold through rose-tinted lenses, she was blind to the mourning of so many herd members. The way they would slink away from the warriors, how their gazes would fade into the distance.... how the warriors watched them with guilt and loss in their eyes.

When she grew old enough, Phoenix applied for a Warrior position in the herd, despite her parents protests. She ignored them, certain that they were wrong, that serving was hardly as bad as they made it out to be.

And then it happened. It was a sudden thing, no warning was given. Reports of an incoming army had been sent by their Western Guards. A hundred strong, they said. Too many to fight. Too many to win.

There was no choice. The entire army was deployed - even the novices, Phoenix herself, along with her friends, who had barely started training. The fighting was vicious - within the first few heartbeats after they clashed, she already knew that she was hopelessly outmatched.

The more experienced warriors did their best to shield the novices. But a battle was no place for younglings - it was each creature for themselves.

Phoenix gave it everything she had. She kicked and stamped, bit and snarled, but with every opponent, she was rapidly growing weaker. A savage bite to the tendon of her right hind leg crippled her, and she did her best to fight through the pain.

A warning call caught her attention. Startled, she lifted her head - right into the path of what would have been a death blow to her head, had she remained still. Instead, the beasts hooves ripped into her left eye.

Agony bloomed behind her eye - which had gone dark. Bleeding heavily and confused, she fell unconscious.

How she survived the battle was a miracle altogether. She woke in the healer's quarters with only one functioning eye, and a lame hind leg. Later, she found out that she was the only one of her novice class to make it home.

After that, she found out what it truly meant to be a warrior in the herd. She saw the respect in their eyes, the way they shifted aside when she hobbled past. But for Phoenix - what was worst was the pity in their gazes.

Trapped, suffocating under the combined scrutiny of so many, the flurry of whispers that followed her everywhere she went, Phoenix one day announced that she was leaving and allowed no one to travel with her, nor follow her.

Both her parents begged and pleaded, and even the healer came by in an attempt to sway her. It wasn't safe, they said. A lone mare, lame and half-blind. You can barely walk, let alone hunt and defend yourself. You wouldn't last a day!

Phoenix nodded, then fled in the night.

Travelling alone was hard, she realised, especially for a horse who was never meant to be alone. She had always loved company, interacting with others and sharing with them.

But now-those she talked to treated her gently, or stared at her in abject pity. They wouldn't romp with her, saying she was far too delicate. Over and over, it happened.

Finally, she fled again, choosing to be truly alone this time, shunning the company of others, keeping out of sight. Pickings were lean, and she ran into more than one spot of trouble, especially with her blind eye and lame limb.

She learnt a little, over time, that gave her just enough food to last her through the day.

Now, barely more than skin and bones, she chooses to enter these lands. Proud and traumatised, still, but perhaps this would be her new start.

[RED&BLACK !]

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