Post by ÐяÈàMBïĞ on Sept 19, 2009 17:25:18 GMT -5
Name: Altair
Age(Years): 4 years
Breed: Pinto x (unknown)
Build: Averag (but slighty studier then most)
Colors: Chestnut Tovero
Markings: Various / blue eyes
Personality: Maybe he is hard to explain, maybe he is hard to define, but actually that is only to those who don't know him. Those who have never taken the time to get to know him. In actuality he is quite simplstic, not in his emotions, for those are quite complex. In his reactions to others. If you are kind to him then obviously he in return will be kind to you, if you are rude or unkind to him then in return he will be either rude and unkind in return or he will simply ignore you. He's never been one to stand for bullrats, but he will also never run from a confrontation, he is able to fight, he knows this. His build being somewhat sturdyer than most gives him strength and capabilities. Altair is not a cruel horse, he will never go out of her way to hurt someone, and if he sees another in pain then his natural instinct is to cure or help them. However, he is not a fool, he hates being tricked, more so being decieved and lied to. He is not good with such things as these.
Freedom is something he has always held dear to Altair, not in the sense that he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Not in the sense that nobody controls him. But in the way that he is allowed to think his own thoughts without being persecuted for it, without being ridiculed and scorned. Altair doesn't like being told what to do, or rather being commanded to do something, he has no issue with rules, only the straight out demands.
Powers: ----
Sample Post: Tiger dun brute creeped silently across the terrian, a smirk berrian on his mug. He took his time, knowing the wiat would pester the colt to no end. Driving him to a point of insantity. It was all like a game of such, one chase after another. No one ever knew when the end was in sight. For once they thought they had reached it. They had to begin all over again. Its the same with life. Once your destiny is finnaly determined, something or someone would mess with your life. Try to play you like a puppet on a string. But no. Not with Arawn, he fell not for mind games and tricks of the young brays that had no strengh other then excuses. Tango was one of those stallions. He fitted right on top of the list. Refusing and refusing to fight, untill after threatingly to kill himself numberous times. Finnaly he drug his sorry hide t the battle grounds. The forest in which enclosed him was not that of which to take refuge. But simply wait for a moment, take in any extra strengh that may have been needed, not that he would have to use his complete fury on Tango. The bray would soon back away crying and sniffling like a young foal after being defeated at a game of tag by a best friend or a worst enemy. Either way he could care less. Media and Sernity would be coming back with him. He had no doubt. Tango was useless. Willing to hand them off to the nearest stallion even through he supposedly "loved" them so dearly. Yet would not fight for "he was sore". From what? No one knows. He had been doing nothing but making simple, regardless excuses. Excuses for why he could not fight. When at last he did, no one would take him seriously. And he could not expect them to. If this fight went as planned, soon he might challenge for the herd. As revenge on the fool. No one messed with Arawns life like this one had. He would fight to a death before he let the colt walk. He would rather die trying them step away like Tango had so many times. Contiuning his lesuirly walk through the serine forest. The silence was only interuptted by the occasinal criket or bird. A few does leapt from their place on a bank as he passed. The sunlight dappled the forest walkway, the trees seemed to be arching as he passed. Much like they knew he was coming, and prepared this for him. Nothing less woul have been expected. He was used to living life the rough way. Taking life in the fast lane and turning around to drive slowly in times he liked so much. He blew through his nares, mocha orbs were flaming, but seemingly relaxed for one with his problems. But after this fight there would be no more problems. For Tango would be put in his place and Media and Serenity back by his side.And any who interferred would have to face him. No questions asked. Problem Solved. Love was funny, it tokk many twists and turns, but yet one clung on like a leech to the one they had felt so much joy and pain with. Through thick and thin they were supposed to stay by you, a supportive shoulder by you side. Now he had no one. Vuelo yes, but she had not come around for a good month or two. And Tigress. She had simply vanished, but he was not so attached to her that he would chase her down as he did so for Media and Serenity. He had hardly knew Tigress, but the cremello fea hadleft without a word, so much like media and serenity had. Just left while he was tending to his sick father, and never thought less of it. Only of him. But Tango. Even after he was ready to hand them off to him dozens of times, willing to fake his own death to avoid a fight for them, and not fight for even the entrie herds' sake. They still put him on a pedistal and worshiped him. He did not understand it. It was as if they were after a stallion that claimed to care about them but would do nothing to protect them. How foolish they had been. Not to mention Tango. He had no idea of what he had gotten himself into. Stepping from the woods, he saw tango running Leavinn so soon? he called from his perch on a lone hill top. A smirk was embedded on his maw. Flints struck the air with fluid grace. Claiming the postion as his and his alone, this fight would be over soon. Either tango would wimp out as he had before or he would drop. Those were his choices. Nothing more and nothing less. Standing tall one the tall hill, he bellowed, a challenging scream, that ravaged through the grounds, echoing off every tree, blade and every other source of matter untill his challnege faded, to be followed by course words Now colt give it your all. It will be your last so you might as well make it good. he snapped angrily. Furrows would have been made if the six year old stallion had had eyebrows. But alas he did not. He knew Tango would expect him from ground level on the other side of the field, but no. Arawn picked his ways differently. His kiger blood ran deep, and his bodice was more compact then Tangos arab one. Muscles more delovped from the harshest life, and skills sharped to the point by useius of them every day. Stallion had no plan to be defeated. And he knew he would win them thing ang and soon seek his revenge. tango would be unexpecting, but he knew where he lived. No doubt for he had been there almost every day for the past almost two plus weeks in which he had been back from healing his sire. Make your move coward! he said angryily. Fury boiling inside him from the past encounters. Every memory came carefully in tact to this precious moment. Tango would fall. Soon. Very soon. he told himself as he looked down at the meek, undelovped foal standing underway of his wide chest, shoulders, compact bodice and muscles, along with his faithful skills. Which he would always remember. To his dieing day.
Password: Fallen
How did you find us?: You are advertised on my site, Asaltar
Anyone tell you about us?: Erm, not exactly.
