Post by *!Alomora!* on Jul 3, 2006 10:03:07 GMT -5
I am dubbed Alomora
I am Cursed Femme
I have Chosen The Alliance
I am Ranked Undefined.
My pelt shines Blue Roan
I have a mind
A quiet, bloodthirsty femme, who enjoys watching happenings from a distance. She is mostly unspoken, excepting when she is spoken to. She brings peril to small creatures, but is not all black. She has, once, fallen in love, and she has a soft spot for foals. But, she has been hurt, and is unwilling to open her heart to love. That would take a great amount of prying and flattery.
This femme can be so cruel, many think her heart is ice, or stone. But, 'tis not. She is very vulnerable, and sensitive. And, if she is hurt, she will quite often fight back. In words, and in actions. She has two lists in her mind- those she likes, and those she doesn't. She won't judge you until she meets you, however, you don't want to get on her bad side.
I am Seen
My pelt glistens of a dappled blue. My form is quite petite, yet muscular and strong. I posses a very feminine look about me, dark beauty filling my facade. My pillars are short, just long enought o hold up my petite bodice, and very strong. My daggers are quite small, yet sharp, and often stained with blood. My tasslels hang long over my dial; my banner brushes the ground as I walk. I posses four socks. My forelock hides my dark pools, that glow with the treachery of the past. A large, ugly scar runs across my chest.
I am Scarred
Once, she was forcebred, but fell in love wth the brute. He pampered her, for she was one of his favourite femmes. She thought he loved her, too, at the sweeet things that he whispered in her harks, the grooming they shared each evening, and that he chose to share with her his own sleeping quarters.
the foal was born, and all was changed. T'was a colt, and, worse, 'e was crippled. Enraged, her brujo attempted to kill him, despite the unconditional love that Alomora had for him. So, she protected him, fighting against the sire and standing over the colt. He merely lauged at her bite, and used a hoof to slah her 'cross the chest and beat her back from the babe. The colt was killed, and the brujo teasd and forced the mare for nights and nights after.
One morning, the stallion did not wake from the quarters that he made her sleep in, though she now hated him. He died with a mysterios scar ;pon his crown, and blood running 'cross 'is bod. Above his body lay that of the colt he had murdered.
That same morn, the femme disapearred, freeing 'erself from the slavery she had been given.
I am Cursed Femme
I have Chosen The Alliance
I am Ranked Undefined.
My pelt shines Blue Roan
I have a mind
A quiet, bloodthirsty femme, who enjoys watching happenings from a distance. She is mostly unspoken, excepting when she is spoken to. She brings peril to small creatures, but is not all black. She has, once, fallen in love, and she has a soft spot for foals. But, she has been hurt, and is unwilling to open her heart to love. That would take a great amount of prying and flattery.
This femme can be so cruel, many think her heart is ice, or stone. But, 'tis not. She is very vulnerable, and sensitive. And, if she is hurt, she will quite often fight back. In words, and in actions. She has two lists in her mind- those she likes, and those she doesn't. She won't judge you until she meets you, however, you don't want to get on her bad side.
I am Seen
My pelt glistens of a dappled blue. My form is quite petite, yet muscular and strong. I posses a very feminine look about me, dark beauty filling my facade. My pillars are short, just long enought o hold up my petite bodice, and very strong. My daggers are quite small, yet sharp, and often stained with blood. My tasslels hang long over my dial; my banner brushes the ground as I walk. I posses four socks. My forelock hides my dark pools, that glow with the treachery of the past. A large, ugly scar runs across my chest.
I am Scarred
Once, she was forcebred, but fell in love wth the brute. He pampered her, for she was one of his favourite femmes. She thought he loved her, too, at the sweeet things that he whispered in her harks, the grooming they shared each evening, and that he chose to share with her his own sleeping quarters.
the foal was born, and all was changed. T'was a colt, and, worse, 'e was crippled. Enraged, her brujo attempted to kill him, despite the unconditional love that Alomora had for him. So, she protected him, fighting against the sire and standing over the colt. He merely lauged at her bite, and used a hoof to slah her 'cross the chest and beat her back from the babe. The colt was killed, and the brujo teasd and forced the mare for nights and nights after.
One morning, the stallion did not wake from the quarters that he made her sleep in, though she now hated him. He died with a mysterios scar ;pon his crown, and blood running 'cross 'is bod. Above his body lay that of the colt he had murdered.
That same morn, the femme disapearred, freeing 'erself from the slavery she had been given.
