[ghost queen.]

def. reserve if i have the time

[whisky]

Mrk!

[feverrr]

good luck !!

[sprig]

Gonna extend this to December 20th!

[sprig]

xxxxxxOlwen is a rather fascinating tolter. While others run at the thundrous cracks of lightning, golden veins through the clouded over day, he stares. His owl-like amber coloured eyes stay locked on the storm clouds for seconds, minutes, even hours. He will never cease to adore the wondrous things of awe in the sky, booming thunder, and sharp, crackling lightning. But Olwen doesn't simply view these astounding tempests; he feels them, too. After he feels his eyes are tired of the snapping, sputtering noises from above, he closes his delicate lids, and listens to to vibrations around him. The vibrant, dewy grass of the paddock, the faint vibrations from above. Olwen is fascinated by these gales to no end. Luckily for him, but nobody else, he lives in an area frequented by storms of many kinds.

xxxxxxWindstorms, precipitation, snowfall, you name it; Olwen has both seen, and felt it. He's quite an outsider, this stallion. Most don't even care to know his name. 'Him' is a common alias given to him, he even overheard someone snickering under their breath, 'That peculiar one who's oddly obsessed with storms'. He doesn't much care for interaction, though, outside of a small circle of family members who occasionally mutter a low 'hello' to him. His coat might be somwhat impressive to some, but to Olwen, it's nothing more than a camouflage, that lets him blend with his surroundings. One of the main ways he evaded capture as a foal, to watch the rumbling storms in his youth. Barn hands eventually understood what was happening, and began to leave him be, during these squalls. They left him alone; just the way he likes to be.

username : ♥ flurr ; you know me. c:
name : Olwen >> Thunderclaps Overhead
meaning : 'A footprint in the snow'.

xxxxxxDrip, drop. Drip, drop. Olwen stood stiffly, pale brown eyes locked on the swirling tempest of a storm brewing above him. His knees felt weak, yet he didn't have the power in him to tear away from the hypnotizing force of the gale winds around him. His expression was grim and contented, and he heard both concerned and mocking whispers from the barn behind him. Olwen payed no mind to the murmurs and snickers, though. The only company he needed was that of the fat, dark droplets of rain cascading down around him. The clouds gradually began to pale and slow, and he gave a silent prayer, for the storm to return at full force. Much to his dismay, it went unnoticed. Olwen glared up at the still, fluffy clouds, as if he could call forth a squall with a deadly enough glare. If only gales didn't fade so soon.

xxxxxxDays past, and Olwen began to fear he'd never feel another storm; feel the weightless dew of raindrops settling on his velvety nose, or the winds fluffing up his short, greyish hairs. But as surely as the sun would rise again, a wild tempest of currents of air and sharp waters returned soon enough. It was a glorious windstorm. Little rain, but hail pelted down from the leaden clouds, and Olwen dashed through the balls of ice for the shelter of the grooming station. The thin tin roof overhead sheltered him from the torrent of ice, and made a pleasantly rhythmical noise that echoed in his mind. His eyes once again lay locked on the storm presented in front of him, in all it's eddying, dark glory. He resumed his grim expression, contented to watch the gales rock the land for the day; the pleasantly stormy, and to others horrible, day.

All art in this form was made completely by myself.

congrats!

[feverrr]

tysm vin <33
this was a wonderful early Christmas present omg c'':