Post by Daedalus on May 12, 2007 2:04:53 GMT
Name: Daedalus
Age: 11 months
Gender: Stallion
Height: He should mature to 16 hh
Breed: Quarter Horse
Looks: Dalus is a blood bay, his rich brown coat is deep and seems to be highlighted with red. A long scar cuts through his well kept pelt, stretching from the top of his right hip down under his belly and up his left shoulder. His mane and tail contrast with a dark ebony hue. He is still young and so his mane stands on end like he had been shocked. His tail is short and wild as well. His legs are knobby and long but they are swift and carry him at great speeds. He is strong for his age and smart too. His eyes are a light honey color that stand out against his dark colored pelt making him quite the catch.
Path Torn In Two *for now*
Personality: Dalus was born into a caring family and has been taught to be kind and gentle. Although recent events have cleaned his mind of any memory and he does not know who he is any longer. He is scared and confused a young colt alone in a big world. He is often curious and will approach a situation even if it smalls of danger. He is brave, but he would have to be with what he went through.
History: Because Daedalus is so young his story is brief, but by no means boring and slow. He was born to an anonymous mare who had simply been used to produce a colt. His father was Amon, Lord of Darkness. His name strikes fear into those who know better. Dalus was his heir and only offspring. His blood is that of evil itself. Amon took the colt as soon as he was off his mother’s milk and began raising him. It was now that things began to go down hill for Dalus. His father had him training to help him grow strong physically. He was forced to fight grown stallions from the herd. It was one of these training battles that could have cost him his life. The stag his father had brought to fight Dalus was a bit bent. Although Dalus was strong he was very young and the others respected that and cut him some slack. This brute saw no reason to give him a break and attacked as if he were fighting Amon himself. Dalus lost a lot of blood but carried himself away from the fight into unknown lands. Here is where he finally collapsed. When he came too his wounds had begun to close themselves, but he had no recollection of how he had got them or where or who he was. Now he wanders the world alone until he finds fellow equine.
Sample Post: Thick clouds veiled the moon and her star children, making the already hot night humid and sticky. The air smelt rich with the promise of a spring storm. The trees and other plant life seemed to stare upwards anticipating the stinging rains. There was no comforting breeze tonight to kiss the hides of the miserable equine, no mocking wind to take some of the discomfort away, no; the air was still and hard to breathe. Not even the flies found joy in this mucky air.
A deep growl rolled across the valley as the sky let loose. The large rain drops bounced on the surface of the lake and soaked quickly into the thirsty earth. Muffled hoof beats could be heard by those nearby as a small figure emerged from the shadows. The trees stopped rejoicing for the rain and seemed to tremble at the sight of him.
Daedalus stumbled into the open, his long legs wobbly from his injuries. The long wound stretched from the top of his right hip down his side, across his belly and up his left shoulder. The blood had dried and smelt foul. His light honey color eyes stood out against his deep bay pelt, his black mane stood on end as his he had been electrocuted, as he was so young it hadn’t grown out all the way. His short frizzy tail hung just between his hocks and was also caked with old blood. He was a handsome young stallion of about 11 months, he was just looking quite a mess at the moment.
His deep orbs were wild with confusion he had no idea where he was. He whinnied shrilly into the night for help from anyone close by. They would play a bigger role in his life than they knew. For Dalus had suffered horrible injuries and had lost his memory. He was like a newborn, ready to be shaped by his mother into what ever she chose.
His young but well built body began to tremble as the rain bit at his hide and soaked him to the bone. Again he cried into the darkness for any ears to hear.