ℓιғɛ ιƨ α иιɢнтмαяɛ ~ ℓιтɛяαтɛ нσяƨɛ яσℓɛρℓαʏ ~ σρɛи

[king_bear]

(Blackbird accepted. Bump, we need one more person before we can start. (And, of course, after Fatal Attraction finished her forms.))

[king_bear]

(Babump.)

[king_bear]

Babump.

[Concept]

●○ Trick ○●○ Four Years ○●○ Mare ○●
●○ Lone Mare ○●

●○ ʋƨɛяиαмɛ ○●
●○ [Concept] ○●
●○ иιcκиαмɛ ○●
●○ [Just 'Concept' will do.] ○●

●○ ғʋℓℓ иαмɛ ○●
●○ [Trick] ○●
●○ иιcκиαмɛ ○●
●○ […Trick] ○●
●○ αɢɛ ○●
●○ [Four] ○●
●○ ɢɛи∂ɛя ○●
●○ […Mare] ○●
●○ яαиκ ○●
●○ [Loner] ○●
●○ ∂ɛƨιяɛ∂ яαиκ ○●
●○ [None at this time.] ○●

●○ cσαт cσℓσʋя ○●
●○ [Trick is a Sorrel Tovero mare, meaning she's base white, with splotchy patches of sorrel (aka, orangy-brown) across her body. Trick happens to have a lot more sorrel than white on her.] ○●
●○ ɛʏɛ cσℓσʋя ○●
●○ [Trick's eyes are brown, a bit light for a horse but otherwise normal.] ○●
●○ σʌɛяαℓℓ ∂ɛƨcяιρтισи ○●
●○ ['Just your average overall horse' is a great sentence to describe Trick. She's not a giant, she's not particularly small, and there's not much either delicate or overly strong about her. You can tell her breed is made for running across tough ground, though; unlike the horses bred by the two-legs for specific purposes, Trick was made by nature into something that doesn't have any need for horseshoes, has more grip on rocky ground. You couldn't really call her graceful as some horse breeds go. As for color… well, Trick looks a lot like a white horse that's been splashed with red-orange paint. The entirely of her front is sorrel, but her mane and the back of her neck is white, and also her nose. The left front leg all the way to the shoulder is white, and almost all of her right side continues the trend. Her right flank and left side, though, is sorrel, and all four legs have white socks.] ○●
●○ вяɛɛ∂ ○●
●○ [A regular old wild mustang. She's like a mutt horse.] ○●

●○ ρɛяƨσиαℓιтʏ ○●
●○ [Trick has made it a habit in life to live up to her name in all the ways she can manage. Spirited, hard to pin down, sometimes mischievous, and with a temper that is only overshadowed by learned caution, this mare has decided for herself that the only way she'll ever take to a herd is if the stallion can prove to her that he's worth the trouble to settle down for. Because she's lived on her own for a long time, Trick won't trust anyone the first time around, and she's gotten used to fighting for most everything she needs in life. Because of this, her first meetings are sure to be threatening. Trick won't settle for anything less than what she came for in most situations, be it water, a bite to eat… or to tease and pester some mare or young stallion that strayed too far from the herds.

She has been known to lead horses that threaten or frighten her into dangerous situations.] ○●
●○ нιƨтσяʏ ○●
●○ [Trick is a mustang that was born in the wild, with her Dam and her Aunt there to bring her into the world and teach her all there was to know. The two were separated from their traveling herd months before, taking comfort in each other as they picked through the rapidly fading trail left behind by the stallion and his small band. Eventually, the trail petered out amid the dark woods, and it was there the two mares were forced to settle, relying on themselves and the things they'd learned to keep each other alive and healthy. And this, they accomplished, sometimes only by the skin of their hocks, but it was done nonetheless. Mercy grew and reached foaling time, and Trick was brought into the world, as wild and proud as any mustang ever could be.

It was the beginning of a lifelong love affair with freedom.

The year and a half following her birth was full of discovery and the love of her family, things that Trick never could have done without. The mares taught her the tricks of survival without a stallion to keep them safe. They taught her how to remain alert constantly, and to never let her guard down when it came to checking the wind and listening. Unfortunately, none of the three could have predicted the storm that ripped through the forest that year, nor could they have even comprehended the sheer power of the wind itself as it came down in a giant, spinning pillar of destruction. Trick only knew fear and the rush of blood in her ears as she ran and kept on running, losing track of everyone else.

When the storm was done, she was alone.

The next several years were a lesson in survival. Trick used what she was taught, learned what she hadn't been taught, and grew from a yearling filly into the mare she is today. Like any creature that's used to looking out only for herself, she grew hard and wiry in more ways than one.]

[I may rewrite the history so it sounds better someday. I'm really tired right now, sorry XD] ○●
●○ ℓικɛƨ ○●
●○ [Trick loves the feel of a warm wind in spring and the smell of water on the air. To her, running on a mountain trail is like flying with the birds; she can't get enough of running in places other horses might fall to their deaths at. She likes when there is someone free enough to run with her without expecting to form a herd or getting clingy when she breaks off and goes out on her own. She enjoys the company of deer, and will graze with them on occasion.] ○●
●○ ∂ιƨℓικɛƨ ○●
●○ [Overbearing creatures get on her nerves, and nighttime storms are sure to send Trick for cover. This mustang really dislikes anything that tries to control her, though, be it stallion, wolf, dog, or mare. Only uncertain ground comes close to that level of dislike. Trick would much rather have the packed dirt of the high ground than a meadow littered with mole tunnels that could break a leg.] ○●
●○ нσρɛƨ ○●
●○ [Trick Hopes for very little, and what she does hope for, she hopes for simply. She hopes for the bark on the trees to keep all the horses in the forest alive through the winter. She hopes that diseases don't ravage too many horses. She hopes that she'll live to see her Dam and her Aunt again, if they still survive. ○●
●○ ғɛαяƨ ○●
●○ [High winds are the heralds of disaster for this mustang. Seeing a tornado once was all she needed; Trick will seek cover if the wind starts to howl.] ○●
●○ ∂яɛαмƨ ○●
●○ [Trick… dreams of a land her Dam told her of, a place of heat and dryness with mountains where her family originated. Why they came to the forest years ago, she doesn't know, but Trick would like to see the old land again, and run full tilt across safe plains.] ○●
●○ ғαмιℓʏ ○●
●○ [Mercy- Dam- A solid Sorrel mustang- long missing
High Songs- Sire- Red Pinto mustang- long gone from the area
Maze- Aunt- Chestnut mustang- long missing
Marigold- Half-sister- buckskin mustang- keeps in contact from time to time, but the two lead separate lives.] ○●
●○ ɢσσ∂ ғяιɛи∂ƨ ○●
●○ [Trick doesn't associate with much anyone but deer at the moment] ○●

●○ cяʋƨн ○●
●○ [-] ○●
●○ мαтɛ ○●
●○ [-] ○●
●○ ғσαℓƨ ○●
●○ [-] ○●

●○ тнɛмɛ ƨσиɢ ○●
●○ [-] ○●
●○ σтнɛя ○●
●○ [-] ○●

[ɾïṿεṉḋεll]

{I've made another character, he is in the front with Blackbird, if you want to find his form. :3}

[king_bear]

(Concept; if you can redo the picture, as it isn't visible, you're accepted.

Map (can I call you like that?); Accepted. We can start.)

[Concept]

(Concept; if you can redo the picture, as it isn't visible, you're accepted.

Map (can I call you like that?); Accepted. We can start.)

{{It should be visible now. O.o not sure why it wasn't before! Thanks for the heads up on it.}}

[king_bear]

(It is. Accepted, Concept.

I will post as soon as I added Trick to the list of characters-thingie.)

[king_bear]

βℓαcκ Ѳиʏϰ
~ σиʏϰ ~ αℓρнα ƨтαℓℓισи ~ ғяιɛƨιαи ~

A rustle in the leaves on the ground, and the eerie sound of an owl, close to the black shadow crossing the forest. The moon was high in the sky, though the light was bright enough to give everything in the forest - the trees, the plants, even the animals - a blue tone. It was dark, dark as it hadn't been for years. The winter had come, but the thin layer of snow on the ground wasn't enough to make it cold. Too cold, at least.

If the moon hadn't shined so bright, if the owl hadn't screeched into the night, telling everyone that something was moving, if the leaves hadn't rustled, the black shadow would never have been spotted. Large, pitch black and muscled, the horse's eyes followed the owl's flight through the air, creating an eclipse-like effect as it crossed the moon. For a second, the stallion had to flinch back into the shadows, squeezing his eyes, as if he had glanced straight into the burning sun.

The shadow's ears flicked around, alert for any predators that hunted at night. The total silence of the night had no secrets for Onyx, who eventually turned around and went back to his mares. His heavy, feathered hooves crunched on the snow and the dried leaves, which echoed against the wall of trees around him sinisterly. The fog was still hanging low, but it had disappeared. Liquefied into bare air, taken up to the roof of leaves above his head, creating the morning dew that, ever few seconds, dripped down to the ground, pulled by gravity, splashing on the floor as tears.

Continuing his path through the forest with a calm pace, Onyx eventually reached the place he'd left the others behind. The night patrol had been over, within a few hours he would remake his circle around the 'herd', and come back again. For now, he could rest.

[Concept]

ʞɔɪʁT
Lone Mare


There was no such thing as a sound sleep.

The forest was alive no matter what time of day it was, scents and sounds drifting through the gaps like ghostly remains of what was, what once had been, and what might be. Even the trees themselves were never entirely silent with their rustling needles and the grinding of insects eating away at wood deep within. It was a picture the mare could form in her mind, something that played alongside the dreams that drifted through her consciousness as the night waxed on, in an ever-ready alarm if anything changed. But the night had been a quiet one.

Steady drips of water that refused to freeze against the hard ground made the mare's ears twitch long enough to identify the noise as non-threatening. Already, droplets of beaded liquid were forming on the outside of her thick winter coat, something that would be shed the instant the horse awoke.

And owl's screech ensured the dewdrop rain off her body would be premature. On the instant, the mare's eyes had opened, taking in the landscape she'd checked and rechecked just outside her place of rest as her ears flicked and turned this way and that. Her dream-state hadn't been able to tell her that the owl was far away... there was only the message in the bird's haunting cries that spoke of intruders and danger, and a lack of prey to be found in the area.

A shift had happened during the night. The breeze no longer brought the scents of the forest to Trick's sensitive nostrils, leaving her far more exposed than she wanted to be. "Great..." The word was barely a whisper, and the last drips of water flicked off the mare's tail as she left the safe place she'd bedded down for the night and sought out better shelter.

She wasn't counting on the sudden scent of horse. Muscles tensed as the mare threw back her head, peering through the trees as if they would move and grant her some picture of the scene too close for comfort. The smells were enough to set her ears back flat. "Double great. They're in my other spot."