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Owner: LostGosling
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Name: Schiavona [A basket-hilted, double edged war sword used in the Renaissance.]
Gender: Female
Age: 7
Height: 19.2hh
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Personality: Shi is a rebel soldier at heart; never settling, incapable of taking orders, but endlessly searching for that one victory that will make it all happen. Because of this unwillingness to surrender, most of her time is spent in solitude. She has always preferred her own company over that of others, and this sometimes isolates her to an even larger degree than she intended on.
Not many Cretoz know her all that well, or at all for that manner, so she's often chased out of new territory by those suspicious of her. It doesn't help that she's always a bit snappish by nature either. She never can seem to hold her tongue, and things always slip out there at the worst possible times. It's terribly easy to end up in a confrontation with her; even if that wasn't your initial intention. As a result, she often ends up ranging about the more difficult to reach places, where forage isn't always as abundant, but the others will finally leave her be. In the summertime, she's more elusive than the tiny, silver minnows in the stream.
Since she was a filly, she's always whispered to herself. Her thoughts, her ideas... she paints them onto a verbal canvas for all the world to listen to. She doesn't even realize she's doing it half the time, so she was left vulnerable to all sorts of foalhood meanness. She was always the unrepentant oddball among the spring foals, so it wasn't uncommon for her to go to all out war with the other youngsters over one thing or another. From snickering at her string of whispers to outright insults:
There was never peace for her. She has almost as many scars from then as she does from the fights of her adulthood. It was this unrelenting torment that played a critical role in her departure from the herd. She was almost 2 when she left; which, really, is about the age most Cretoz strike out on their own if they're going to do so. However it was the
catalyst to this life path that is most unique only to herself. She wasn't running from them; good god don't even think the words around her. After the things she learned about them... there was just no going back for her.
In her travels, she often enjoys talking and singing to the birds. When they're up flittering about, going about their busy day as birds do, she never really feels alone. She can even think better with them around. Not an ounce of criticism has she ever received out of them like that which was so prevalent in her kind; only ceaseless curiosity, and a flamboyant cheer on particularly nice days. She knows to always keep an eye and ear out for them too; she can tell all kinds of things about her environment by assessing the birds. She can feel the sudden hush, like a cloud passing over the sun, when a cat is crouched in hiding nearby. They always gather all around in trees and on cliff sides, puffled and watching expectantly for the storm. Nothing slips by her if the birds have anything to do with it. Her final analysis? They're the ideal company for the nomadically inclined.
Sometimes, in the dead of winter when staying upright is even a trial, she wishes
she could just fly away, like they can. Everything would be so much simpler that way. No more fighting, no more nonsense. She'd be off somewhere in the sunshine, clipping fresh greens and slogging about crystalline rivers. Then she scolds herself mercilessly at the thought. Even if she
was capable of sprouting wings and taking off like the frail, winged things who would surely wither and die in the harshness of one of Cré's winters, would she really
want that? No. Shi picks herself up out of the ice and rock, and blearily reminds herself of who she is, and what she's capable of:
"When you're an outcast, you grow more intuitive, more keen to the dangerous world around you. You're capable of turning on those who threaten you. You can act on instinct alone. You keep a clear head, and you nurture even the slightest touch of creativity just to survive. Nobody is going to save you. There's no herd to fall back on. So
you must be your solution." ~ Shi
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Relationship with half-brother: Sabre is a perplexing aspect of Shiavona's vastly unseen world. He's younger than her by a few years, and shares her own spotting, even though they inherited it from different stallions. But he's as foreign to her as what lies beyond the ocean's depths. A distant glimmer from a place she left long, long ago. Where he belongs and where she belongs... they are divided by one-way glass; Shi unnoticed as she looks in, Sabre never to know she was there.
She first found out of him when she passed back through her old territory as a young mare; those were the days when she used to return unseen to check on her mother. She was sure the lead seen her sometimes. She even locked eyes with him from time to time. There was an understanding there, as well as a soft sadness that made her heart ache, that caused her to recoil further, but he never did expose her to the herd regardless. She wondered at this occasionally, but she imagined she'd never speak to them again, so it wasn't like it mattered anyway. It didn't stop her from thinking about them though.
It was on a day such as this that she once spied her mother at the edge of the herd, looking all around in a panic. She seemed terribly flustered, bleating and snorting and wide eyed, and Shi, unthinkingly, took a few steps out of hiding to try and see what was the matter. The stallions eyes flicked her way, watching her intently, but she didn't see him yet. She was too focused. All at once, she watched a relieved look come to her mother's face, and a handsome little colt came running out of nowhere. He rubbed all up against her side, grinning at her in the most charming way, and only got a quick scold before he went bouncing back off again. She had a
brother now.
It wasn't until then that she caught the eyes of the stallion. Her own expression was still twisted into a lopsided gawk, so, not knowing what she was going to do, he observed her carefully, evaluating her reaction as carefully as he would a potential threat. Even as she was froze there, wondering absently if this was finally the time he was going to chase her off, she caught a certain bewildered warmth in his expression; after all, this was the closest she'd come to the herd in ages. She gave him a pained look as, suddenly, he softly gestured for her to come closer. He nodded at her hopefully, waiting. She blinked a few dazed times, her eyes flitting helplessly back to her little brother, and suddenly she found herself struggling in the worst way. A part of her melted away at the colt's beautiful eyes; they were the most beautiful shade she'd ever seen. If she could see any kind of color at all, she knew they would be perfect. His pelt looked like the swirling depths of the ocean at night, white froth surging across his back as if reflecting the moon's radiance, his mane and tail a glimpse of the rolling kelp beneath the waves.
She'd never meant for this to happen. She'd never wanted to be
seen. But she wanted to know him
so badly. Maybe she'd even stick around for a while. Have a home again.
Then, the
angry part, that hurt, fragmented part of herself that still felt as though it had been deeply wronged... it clawed back in protest. The sides warred for a moment as she watched the colt mill about, and then a hard veneer glossed over her emotions. She was overcome by the feeling that this was something alien and forbidden. Something she'd put behind her. Something that caused her to uncontrollably push
away. She couldn't go back. She
wouldn't go back. She had not left on good terms. Her mother was surely moving on by now, and so was the rest of the herd. Coming back in at this point would only tear open an old wound, and leave it raw and angry when she left them again. She bolted without looking back.
Sometimes, when she's particularly alone and the birds are all gone, she thinks of her little brother. She wonders how he turned out. If they have anything in common. What became of him. Did he have his own herd now, or was he a part of another. Was he a rogue, like her. It brings her a wistful kind of comfort to picture what knowing him would have been like. Maybe she'll cross paths with him some day... what would she say?
How they are related: Sabre and Schiavona share the same mother, but have entirely different fathers. Shi wasn't supposed to ever know who her real father was. She was supposed to think he was their lead stallion, as the other fillies and colts were. A firm ruler, but a soft touch to all of the foals he'd ever sired. She often looked upon him as a role model, until she found out the truth.
You see, the little spotted filly was not conceived in her birth herd. Nor was her father the lead stallion. She probably would have never known how it really was if it hadn't been for the other foals. The whole ordeal of her father and the lead had been under wraps; to protect her, so she would never have to feel different. But, inevitably, it slipped out one day, during a fight. One of the older girls, one who'd actually been there and seen it, blurted it out in an insult. She'd flinched the moment it rolled off of her tongue, and ran off wide eyed back to her mother; she knew she'd crossed the line. But the damage was already done. Then Shi wanted answers.
All the answers. Her mother wasn't always a member of the sound, close knit group that she travels with today. She was once with a much smaller herd, a couple of mares and a single, older stallion, before she ever ended up where she is.
The herds had crossed paths in mid-winter. It was unforgivably cold and good graze was scarce. The herd was resting comfortably in a field, blocked from the wind, enough edible graze under the snow to make do. It had really only been a matter of time before somebody else challenged them for it. Out of the stones and wind came a stallion, a gaunt old steed who was bent on taking the land,
all of it, for himself and his few mares. It was a fool's errand; he wasn't nearly as young as he used to be, and the stallion he was coming up on was nearly twice his build. But he refused to back down. After the two danced about for a time in combat, the lead made a proposal, since he admired the stallion's spirit. He offered to share a portion of the land with them, just until the rough patch blew over. They would be allowed safe passage through the area during these harsh times, but as soon as the weather broke, they would need to be on their way. This was an incredibly generous compromise, seeing as how he could have quickly ended the fight by chasing them all off. But the rogue wouldn't accept it. Whether it was his own stubborn pride, or the cold had driven him over the edge, he wanted to fight him for it, down to the bitter end. So fight him he did.
The lead hadn't wanted it to end in death. He never liked it when it came to that. But the nomad wouldn't back down, and the fight compromised the well-being of his own herd. His herd came
first. Above all else. A swift blow to the head marked a permanent end to that fight. The few mares that had been with him were offered sanctuary; a permanent residence in the herd and the lead's full protection. Two mares only stayed until the ice lifted. One pregnant mare took him up on his offer.
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Extra: 
Finally, her art is finished. xD I decided to make it a simple black and white depiction, since the original pic was a pencil drawing, and working on this gave me the idea for one, last personal touch to her persona. eue The markings aren't perfect, especially on the legs, but it was really fun to do and I'm happy with it. <3
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by Ralonica » Sun Nov 10, 2013 9:04 am 
