Post by notch on Sept 23, 2014 21:38:18 GMT -7
Name:
winona.
Gender:
female.
Breed:
quarab | american paint | saddlebred.
Genetics: ---
Age:
four.
Arrived in MUSTANG: spring, year eleven.
Coat Color:
red dun tobiano
Height: fourteen & one.
Eye Color: pacific blue.
Personality:
remarkably sweet. reliably flighty. forever looking over her shoulder. she is the fine wield of blown glass, and without doubt as fragile. her very existence is painstaking. she fears endlessly the silliest, most harmless things, though she could never explain why if asked -- habit, perhaps, she'll suggest with a quaint shrug, and wilt. call her a coward and she'll agree instantaneously, but to know her at any length is to know the lion within: she possesses a thirst which she endeavors perpetually to satisfy, a thirst that casts her far and wide, walking across water, through fields, unto the tomorrow she readily trusts the dawn to bring. do not assume her to be merry or witless. do not presume of her anything at all. she cannot be understood or defined, or trusted for one instant to be who she might have been a minute before, or the second before that. when least expected, she will disappear -- you can count on that.
History:
the lovechild of a perfect scandal. she was familiar very briefly with her mother when one morning she simply did not stir again. the idea of sleep terrified her after, and she struggled against it for years, still does to some extent. her days then were spent and are yet absorbing every minute detail. she learned to sleep in short bursts, every slumbering moment a vivid, painful reminder of what could come to swallow her whole. her terror drove her father away, slowly but surely. when she was old enough and understood, she realized that his casual indifference was the only way he could love what reminded him of his loss -- her departure, sudden and indisputable, was therefore as ruinous, and he died. she was not present for his death, obviously, but has suspected his absence in some part of her heart, a force she harnessed to help her continue as she would: onward, and far, so far, away, until the miles turned to legions, to the yawn of an eternity. at least, that is how it has seemed to her; the years have gone uncounted, the distance unmeasured. She could not tell a soul if it was to the East from which she hurried or, possibly, to which she fled. She knew only that it was away, and away brought her here, where she has decided, at long last, to rest.
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From a rating of one to ten [ten being the best], what would you rate MUSTANG?:
7.
What do you suggest we do next/improve?:
no suggestions at this time.
Where did you find us?:
old member returning.
What would you like to be called?: formerly nein; now notch.
I'm still Splashs on there!
I miss rping.
![The Cimarron Hearts v3](http://i52.tinypic.com/w06c2a.png"){kind=small}
