by Caskett » Tue Sep 03, 2013 5:57 am
Username: Caskett
Equid's Name: Anthony
Age: Four
Height: 15hh
Gender: Stallion
Personality: Anthony is a very beautiful stallion, and he knows it. Even a bit narcissistic, at times he can act arrogant and full of himself. Being at his prime, he imagines every female Equid adores him and wants to be in his herd, or his mate, or have his foals. And while, for a few, this may be the case, little does he know that most of them make fun of him behind his back. Even if he did know, hwoever, Anthony wouldn't care, as his ego is so large nothing can deflate it. Much like a rose, he is beautiful to look at, but try to touch him and you might get pricked by his thorns. Not many Equids are close to him, and even fewer know that when he was younger, humans captured him and tried to tame him, wrecking his confidence and physically and mentally abusing him. Now, he has built up his wall of petals and hardly ever let's anyone inside, with thorny defenses and sharp remarks prepared to keep intruders out. While he acts cocky and brave, egoistic and selfish, this isn't entirely true. He thinks if he acts strong, other Equids will believe he is, and not try to hurt him.
The way to this stallion's heart is a long one. He needs a filly with companionship,and love, who wouldn't mind tending, and caring to him until he gained her trust. If a mare could get Anthony to open up and blossom, maybe his rudenss would give way to something else.
Description:Life of A Red Rose
A rose is, at the beginning, a humble flower. The stem is green, with a teardrop bud, its petals swirled tightly closed to protect it from the outside world, with prickly, light green over-petals as armor. It has no scent, and feels smooth and firm, asleep and oblivious to anything.
Early one morning, tiny bud will start to open, like a newborn on unsteady legs, it's petals are wobbly and soft, unsure in their strength, but a beautiful, pinky red color as bright as the sunrise it had opened under.
As the rose blossoms, matures, and reaches higher towards the sun, its petals brighten and glow a ruby red, the brightest in the floral kingdom. They are nestled around each other in a complex twist, so that the largest are fanning around the outside of the swirl, while the smallest are compacted into the center. There must over a hundred, all delicately spreading from the center, sending their lofty fragrance up into the air. Their scent is of evenings, warm but getting cooler in preparation for night, with sweet breeze and a drowsy lullaby playing. It is delicate and complex and layered over with the smell of grass and wood and soap and it is airy and sublime. All in all, gorgeous.
Many times, before a rose can reach old age, it is prematurely plucked from its green and thorny stem, kept in a vase where it slowly withers without life from the bush it grew on. However, when left to be, these flowers will slowly lose petals, and droop to the ground, as if they don't have enough energy left for life. New ones will replace those of yesterday, as those of yesterday came from the flowers before them. No matter the color, this plant is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful.