where the WILD things are

[Wild@Heart]

The Wind Whispers
Chemical Romance

Has Survived
5 Years

Cursed To
Bare Foal

Towers Above The Ground
14.2 HH

Blood Tainted
Arab & Appaloosa & Mustang

The Eye Will See
A White Mare With A Darker Front And Purple Stripes. Violet Orbs.

Reacts
With An Iron Will And Strong Defenses

Has Lived Through
Her mother was taken from her true love by a band of rebel stags and given to her old stallion whom she hated. Right before she was taken to her enemy, the rebels forced her love to breed her, and of course he did. So she went to the stags land, where she hated every day of her life there, and had her foal, Chemical Romance. Chem grew up in a world of hatred and pain, and left as soon as possible, although she was sad about leaving her dear mother.
After awhile of wandering she met a stag and they fell in love. One day, during their travels they were climbing up the Crumbling Cliffs, and both began to fall. She had to choose whether to save herself, or save him and she chose herself. Now she has to live with the guilt that this has caused every day.

Magical Powers
Telekinesis

[/blockquote][/color]

[Wild@Heart]

The Wind Whispers
Kana

Has Survived
3 Years

Towers Above The Ground
14 Hands

The Eye Will See
A Golden Pelt With Black Points, And Black Decorations On Both Shoulders And Haunches Alike. Feathers Are Stuck In Her Mane And Tail.

Blood Tainted
Mustang

Cursed To
Bare Foal

Personality
Everything about her is calm. Her eyes are always calm, and so is her body language. She doesn't jump the gun and usually thinks things through first. She's confident, but not eragantly so. Her mood tends to wear off on others, as she is almost always calm and serene.

History
She was born on indian land, although she never really interacted with the humans. She didn't have bad experiance with them, but it really wasn't good either. Her mother loved the people, and she would sometimes venture into the tribe with her. When she did the children and woman often painted on her and did fancy things, such as the feathers in her mane, while the men would rough house.
While she was still young she decided that this was not a life she wanted and she left.

Power
None

Threads
Atop A Golden Platter *Open*

[/center][/color]

[Wild@Heart]

My name is Alatheia. My mother named me this. She said that another equine had appeared in her dream and told her to name her first born daughter this, and that she would be the goddess of truth. Little did my mother know that this would all be true.

Age is a mere number. It means nothing to me anymore, and I can not be bothered to count the days that I have spent upon this godforsaken earth.


Only a mare could have this much knowledge, and still be so level headed.

I am short, am I not? My withers only reach 13 hands high.

I am of pure Caspian decent, an ancient breed that was prized way back. From my knowledge I am the only one left.

My hide is a silvery white.My mane and tail just so happen to be ebony, a sharp contrast from the silver shade of my coat. My daggers match, the black color running all the way up my legs before fading into stripes that end where my pillars do. A black dorsal stripe runs down my back and and where my dock meets tail. My nose is black, ending where my cheek bones begin, and my odd colored pools are circled in black. I have one violet eye and one Sapphire blue. There is no reason for this, it just happened. And between my multicolored eyes stands my golden horn. A single spear made of hard bone that extends a little over a foot out from my forehead.

My memory is impeccable. I have never forgotten a single thing that has happened to me. But instead of giving you my whole life story I will sum everything up into a short novel.
I remember being born to my mother. A plain mare with no powers at all. She was pure black, and so was her heart. Although she loved me to no end. I remember her telling me the story of my name after she had cleaned me off and I was nursing for the first time. I had been born all black too, and she had been proud. I was a miniature duplicate of her.
She often joked about my prophecy to the other herd members, but I know she believed every word of it. She would tell me that I would be a great equine some day, and that when something terrible happened to the lands, just as her dream friend had said, I would helping put things back to normal.
Growing up my mother taught me to fight. She was harsh on me, but she needed to be. And I was no different then the colts in the herd then. My father believed in owning allowing colts to live back then, that I remember too. He had killed off all the fillies that had been born that year, but I was the last one born in the dead of winter. He had protested when my Mother told him that I would live. In the end he decided that if I didn't die from the cold temps then I would be worth keeping. To his dismay I survived.
Anyways, I would brawl with the colts all of the time, nonstop for days on end, my mother barking out commands from the sidelines. And eventually I didn't need her help anymore. I was as strong as the toughest colts, and more agile then all of them put together. And on top of strength I had the brains that it took to become a champion.
When I was about 3 years old my father left his position as lead stag and gave it up to one of the younger males of the herd. The stallion that took it was 12, and he chose me as his lead mare. He had been watching me all this time, he had said, and I was the only mare of pure Caspian blood that had ever lived. He wanted me as his. Now he was a rude beast, and I didn't care for him much but my mom demanded that I take his offer anyways, and so I did.
I had been lead mare for only a couple of months before he had decided that he didn't only want that from me, but a son of his own to carry on the blood line when his time was up. I didn't love him. In no way did I want to carry his foal, and he said that he understood. I knew he was lieing, but I carried on anyways as if it was no big deal and so did he.
Then about a week later he said we needed to talk, and that it was serious and urgent, but he didn't want any of the herd members to hear it so we would need to go deep within the forest. I followed him there, like the foolish youngin I was. Once there, though, it became clear to me that he had no intention to talk, and instead was going to rape me. I fought back, of course, but I was weaker than the stag that was in the prime of his life and stood over 16 hands. Anger was boiling within me, and my head was pounding. It felt as if my skull was exploding, a pain greater than anything I had ever felt before even to this day.
I remember him charging at me, my own head was held low from the pain. His own emotions had taken over, and he did not notice the object that had grown between my eyes. Nor did I for that matter. But I remember the blood spurting out from where he had ran into me, my own mind in a haze as I pulled back, dragging his body with mine own. I knew I wasn't this strong, and I couldn't figure out what was holding him to me, but I could feel all over his pain washing through my body. It was terrible, but not as bad as my own headache. And thoughts were racing through my head, ones that were not my own and never had been.
He had loved me, I realized this now. And I had killed him, but not on purpose. I withdrew from him, pressing my daggers against his body as I pulled my crania away. Startled and worried I bolted to the river to clean the blood off of myself, and to see what exactly lay in my blind spot.
Once there I stopped suddenly, a sharp object protruding from my forehead. It was odd, and yet gorgeous. And my coat color, that had changed also. No longer was I a dark black but the color that I am now.
I remember going back to the herd, telling them what happened and no one believed me except my own mother. I was exiled then. Ever since I have wandered the lands for years. At first I was social and would talk to mortals all the time, but I have quite that habit. I hate to see those I love die, as all mortals must do. So it's best not to grow attached in the first place.

I am calm, as I should be with as much life experience as I have. My patience for liars is short, though and my temper can become great around them. Nothing shocks me anymore, as I have seen and done it all, and nothing startles me because I know that I am invincible and can kill them with ease. I am very stubborn, and my opinions are my opinions. No one has been able to sway me yet.
I do not wish to interact with mere mortals, as they tend to be the greatest liars of them all, and I can not promise that I won't hurt them. Although I can control myself at all times, and my emotions never get out of hand.

I am no more special than any of the other gods I am sure. Just by looking at another equine I can tell if they're lieing or not. And I can keep my own secrets hidden to no prevail. No one ever knows what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling unless I decide it to be so. My horn also holds special powers, and it's not just for beauty. If I touch another equine with it, then I will be put in their place and feel everything they feel. I will know every thought that they've ever thunk and every thought that they are thinking now. I can do pretty much anything I wish with my horn, including heals those that are critically wounded but I have never tried with the dead. Since Hades deals with that I don't think that I could bring them back once their gone, or so far gone that they're with Hades. I usually don't mess with mother nature, though and let things go the way they're meant to.

If you feel the need to get to know me, then you can find me in these places.
A Decision to Be Made (Open to all the gods)

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Wild@Heart]

Forget The Risk;
Take The Fall.

Nakoma is what my mother called me. It meant great warrior to the Indian tribe.

I was cursed at the age of 5. Since then time matters little to me, and the days all seem to run together.

My withers only reach to 14 Hands. What I lack in height I make up in personality.

My blood is crimson, just like everyone else's. Sometimes it's better to not know.

When you look at me, you will see a stunning mare, with the spirit to match. My creamy color fits into many catagories, and yet none at all. It's a mix between a dun and buckskin. I would consider myself an amber champagne, though. I have dark points, my black skin just barely showing through. My mane and tail are a chocolate color with narurally lighter highlights. And upon my rump is a darker, smutty marking which is classified as a varnish marking. My eyes are a deep blue, and always filled with emotion. My daggers are black, matching my dark points. So yes, that's what you will see upon first glance.

My past is hazy. I don't really remember much of it, but from what I do remember I was born in the middle of winter. I was healthy and strong, but the season took it's toll on both me and my mother. Yet, we managed to survive and as I grew older she told me great tales. I learned about my father, how my mother was raped and the pain that stags could create. She had been overpowered, and too scared to fight back. She regreted this, but she loved me. She had always wanted a foal.
She taught me everything, and we went everywhere together. I can recongnize millions of scents, and thousands of sounds. She taught me to feel the world around me, to be part of it. Something that many other's don't know how to do. And most of all, she taught me to love unconditionally.
But I watched her die. I wal still young, not even 2 years old and still learning when she just died. It wasn't of old age, because she was still young, her heart just gave up. This was a bad time for me, and I grieved long past the normal.

My past has made me who I am today. I am strong spoken and stubborn, and I refuse to let another creature change my mind or make decisions for me. I control my own life, and no one can change that. I would rather die than have my freedom taken away.
Sometimes I can be snappy, and my comments rude and harsh, while other times I can be nice and comforting. One might say I have mood swings, although not to the extreme. I just tolerate stallions better than I do mares.
I can and have fought, and don't hesitate to take chunks out of other equines. I don't like to be told what to do, or pushed around.
I'm great at reading moods and body language, and often feel like I know exactly how the other being is feeling.
I'm rather curious, and like to know about other's past and their current lives. I like to be social, and talk and meet new equines all the time, although I do have days where I would rather be alone.
I don't trust easily, you have to earn it, although if I like you I will be loyal, and will protect you with everthing I have.

I am able to make equines relive their most painful memories. I rarely ever use my power because I am forced to feel all emotions that they feel while reliving this, and it hurts me too. But, if I ever got in a tight spot and there was no other way out, then I would do what I had to do.

My heart belongs to me and only me, there are no others that I love.

If you must know more, than see for yourself.
Feeling Is Believing
Feeling Is Believing (2)
A Summoning
Sad, sad words [open]
Shattered {Wild/Nakoma}
And There Is A Choice

[/color]

It's Meant To Be;
It's Worth It All.

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Wild@Heart]

My Name Is
Toxic Depression

I Have Experienced
3 Years

I Am Cursed To
Bare Foal

I Stand At
14.3 Hands

I Bleed
Mustang x Arab x Paint

I Am Who I Am
I am very mature for my age, and have vast knowledge. I am pretty calm at all times, although I have enough energy to love running, and to be rather fast and muscular. I am very thoughtful and take things into consideration, while at the same time I usually overthink everything. I'm not necesarily happy go lucky, but I don't take everything badly either. Basically I'm just well rounded.

I Have Lived Through
Her mother died giving birth to her. Her father never loved her, but he had loved her mother and promised her that he would take care of their only child. So he found a nurse mare for her, and let her take full responsibilty for his child. The few times he did visit it would be to tell her what a terrible child she was, and how she had killed her mother. He never let her live this down.

Power
Animal Morphing. She can transfer between her horse form and a wolf form. She can stay in either form for as long as she wants without any side effects, and takes on the characteristics of the animal.

I Heed The Call Of
None

I Reside In
The Roaming Lands

Given Birth To
None

Threads
Nothing But A Fairytale

[Wild@Heart]

Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones

I Call Myself
Anastasia

Through Thick And Thin I Have Survived
2 Years

I Wreak Of
Mare

I'm Much To Far From Heaven
Standing 14.2 Hands

I Was Created By
An Arab Mother and Welsh Father

But Your Words Will Forever Haunt Me

Your Eyes Will Be Stuck Upon Me
My dark dun pelt with ebony tresses and 2 white socks on the right side

I Thought That I Would Never Heal, I Almost Died Inside

What Doesn't Kill Me Makes Me Stronger
I was born into a world of stags, destined to forever be a femme. My father believed that mares were there soly to repopulate the ground and nothing more. Therefor he never payed attention to what my mother said, only to forcing her. She didn't love him, didn't want to be with him at all, yet he forced her to stay and be his mate. I was to be her last child though, age making her grow infertile. She had yet to give my father a colt, a being he could train to take his spot once he died. And when I was born he was dissapointed, a look of disgust upon his face. All of my siblings were long since gone, but they had lives happy lives. My mother had made sure of that as she told me. And being that I was the only one who listened to her she told me everything, all of her stories and tales.
Some nights my father was more angry than others, taking his anger out on my mother. He would abuse her, rip at her delicate skin and the only thing I could do was stand back and watch, wondering why she never left him or fought back. By the time I came of age, though my father raped me, a look of lust overcoming his features as he pushed me around. I wasn't strong enough to do anything about it. But nothing came of it, no foal to bear the terrible evidence. My mother cried for me, for the things he did to me. He was done with her, her bones brittle with age as he allowed her to leave now. I was his new toy. He did as he pleased, and I took my mothers spot. For the first 2 years of my seasons I wasn't able to get pregnant, and I wondered if it was because of my father of the fact that I was infertile. All the while he continued to abuse me, I was his personal punching bag.
I had made plans to escape, to run away. But that was all before I had another being to plan for. And after I found out I wanted to escape that much more, the thought of this fragile soul having the same fate as me fueling my internal fire. Yet, I couldn't. He found out all too soon and never left my side.
The foal came, a little colt. I had delivered with ease, but 2 months early. Without even a single breath the colt died. My father was furious, and I was surprised that he even let me live, although barely.
Not I wander these forsaken lands, broken hearted and hurt.

I'm Scarred For Life, Unfixable
I hold a myserious edge and keep to myself. Never again will I trust, although of that I can't be sure. I don't hate stags because my mother had good stories to tell about some, I just hate how they think they're better than any other gender. I'm just as good.

I Have Great Power
Electrokinesis- Ability to control, generate or absorb electricity. This means that she can send currents of electricity into others, varying from just a tingle to ones that will result in death. She can also absorb electricity without any damage, including lighting strikes. Her blasts have been known to be the cause of many forest fires and such, as she is still learning how to control it.

Stones And Sticks Break Only Skin

Stallion: N/A
Herd: N/A
Foals: N/A
Threads:
N/A[/size]

While Words Are Ghosts That Haunt Me

[/font][/center][/blockquote]

[Wild@Heart]

Her Voice Became His Passion
Phantom Of The Opera

Close Your Eyes
Mare

Purge Your Thoughts
6 Years

Let Your Spirit Soar
15 hands

Live As You've Never Lived Before
Arab x Mustang

Turn Your Face Away
Ivory flea bitten hide that can appear almost translucent at times, black points, pure white tassels, and black pools that appear as if they can see right through you

Her Love Became His Obsession
From birth her mother knew she was special. Her voice, it sounds like the angels themselves. Her mother cherished this, encouraging her to sing out and to sing louder. But her mother was elderly, and then came the day that she would die. Opera was heartbroken, and promised her that she would never sing again. She hasn't since.

Her Refusal Became His Rage
She has an amazing singing voice, and even when she talks her words are melodic. She doesn't talk often, and when she does her words are few and far between. Her immense beauty and singsong voice often make stallions swoon, although she wants little to do with them. She doesn't make friends easily, and prefers to be left alone in her own little world.

She Has Written You An Opera
She can use her voice for both good and evil. She does this with her singing talent. She can sing a lovely tone, mesmerizing one with the tone, and the lyrics not mattering at all. Or she can cause others pain with her singing voice, the high pitch making ears bleed. She doesn't often use her power though. And even her voice tends to draw others in.

Her Great Tutor
N/A

Let Your Mind Start To Journey
N/A

Let Your Dream Begin
N/A

Let Your Darker Side Give In
N/A

[Wild@Heart]

I Am To Be Called
Marqui

I Am Cursed
To Bare Foal

I Have Traveled Through
4 Years

Through My Veins Runs
Kiger Mustang

My Hide Is Stained
Buckskin

And Marked With
Classic buckskin dark points; Dorsal stripe, shoulder stripes, zebra stripes on legs, black muzzle, black tipped ears, and black mane and tail. Oh, and don't forget her icey blue eyes that appear to be almost white.

My Past Is My Past
Marqui was born as a Princess, living a pampered life. As she grew she began to understand the concept of war, and that her whole family was plotted against another. Often large wars would break out, not ending for days, and when they did end many would come home injured or dead. She spent many of her days tending to the wounded and listening to their stories, as she was forbidden to leave the valley. She met a herd prisoner there, and she fell in love with him. He was everything she could ever want, and she spent many days visiting with him in quartintine. She knew she had to hide this, and she did so. But one day her father found out and sentenced her love to death. She begged him and pleaded with him, but he didn't care, and for punishment her love was killed before her very eyes. This has forever hurt her, and the pain still hasn't gone away.

I Am Who I Am
Marqui is a tough character. She is quiet, reserved, and tends to be difficult to get to know. She likes to meet new people and interact with others, but she also doesn't talk much and often keeps to herself. She holds back her opinions and ideas, and only tells them to those who she is close to. She's always kind, gentle, and sensitive with others, but she needs personal space too. She is extremely aware of others and gathers specific info and tries to figure out what it means.

I Have The Power To
Heal. Including:
- My wounds heal almost instantly
- My body ages slower, so she will live much longer than normal equines
- Immunity to disease and poisons
- Able to survive extreme temperatues
- Ability to regrow lost body parts

I Am Loyal To
Me, Myself, And I

Given Life To
None

Stalk Me If You Must
N/A

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Wild@Heart]

Poison Tears Stream Down My Face
Sovay

My Heart Beats At A Steady Pace
Appears 4

As I Try To Stand Again
Mare

Alone and Standing In The Rain
15.1 Hands

Love Is Death And Death Is You
Mutt

Its Pain Stains Like A Black Tattoo
Bay with black tassels, and an ebony spiraled horn

Those Memories Come Back Again
She was born to two equines, neither of whom had powers. When she was born, she appeared as a normal foal, although her mind was that of an experienced adult. She didn't need the help of her parents, and was very independent. As she grew she sparred with the young colts, never even venturing near another filly. She found them inadequate, and took no interest.
And then less than a year after she was born she began to experience severe head pain, although she never complained to anyone about it. After suffering with this for many months a horn finally grew out of her skull. No longer would the colts play with her, for in fear of her horn. She even went to the fillies for companionship, and they too were terrified. Her whole herd had turned against her. She was banned from the territory, although she never ventured far. She grew up alone, and when she was strong enough she went back for revenge. She was going to go big or go home, and in the end she went big. She killed every single creature in her herd before the gods finally came and stopped her. And then they cursed her, and ever since she has been plotting up revenge on them too.

And Bind Me In The Ropes Of Pain
She doesn't mind socializing at all, although at times many question if she's all there or not. She has a high level of thinking and processing, although at times she seems to have lost it. Her voice is usually always calm, even though her emotions may be running away inside of her. Mood swings and personality changes are not unusual for her, and happen rather often.

Crimson Blood Streams Down My Head
Cursed for the last 23 years

Like A Long Silk Ribbon Tied By Thread
She can control many forms of poison. Her own blood is toxic, and her bite is toxic. If she bites you your blood stream will be filled with poison, and if you don't get it out soon enough it will begin to shut down your organs. Also, when she is under high levels of emotion stress or fear she cries black tears which releases poison and will cause the other to become unconscious.

To A Platinum Bullet, Hole In My Skull
N/A

Now Just A Memory That's Faded And Dull
N/A

[Wild@Heart]

My name is Nyx.

I have survived to many years to count.

I am a female.

My withers reach 15.2 hands.

I am a friesian.

My hide is ebony, with a crimson sheen, and my tassels are also curled. My pools are an icy blue, sharp in contrast to the black.

My past is my past. Unlike my brother I remember little of my birth, but I do remember the great many stories out mother told. She was the first of our kind, the first goddess. She had created us all by herself, with no help from a stallion. I idoled her for this, for being so self pleasing and independent. Growing up I always wanted to be like her, but in the end I took up my very own and unique personality. She had said that me and my brother were to grow up with each other, and grow in love, and that as soon as we came of age we would become lovers. I didn't accept this, I couldn't. Like all women I wanted my fairytale ending, and in no way did that include breeding with my brother. I could tell that this disappointed them both greatly, but I had to do what was right, what I felt in my heart. And so I did, and me and my brother are nothing but siblings.

I know what I'm like. I'm often quiet and reserved, and have a serious manner about me. I always keep my word, and follow through with the tasks I've planned to do. I'm very loyal, faithful, and dependable. To me honesty and integrity are very important things. Because of this I know better than to trust my brother, although I also know that he cares greatly for me. I don't express affection of any emotion toward others, but I'm good at supporting and caring for others. I'm not often mean or spiteful, but people like that tend to bring out the worst in me.

I am able to prophesize, and tell little parts of the future. I am able to bring sleep upon the earth, controlling the color and decorations of the sky. Along with this I can put a creature to sleep with my lullabies. I often have a dark mist encircling me, and I can control the moisture of the air, making mist and fog appear or disappear. None want to anger me, seeing as I can make the world dark for as long as I want, and can put them to sleep for an indefinite amount of time.

[Wild@Heart]

You may call me Erebus. My name means darkness and shadow, for your information.

I have survived much past my death date, and am no longer mortal. That I know, but for my definite age I have not a clue.

If you happen to glance between my legs, you will instantly notice that I am a mighty stallion.

My withers reach a good 17 hands.

Under my hide is the blood of a purebred friesian.

My hide is nothing but ordinary, completely black without a single mark upon me. My tassels fall in complicated swirls, and my pools are nothing but ebony to match.

I was born to an all white mare, this I remember well for I have great memory. I was the first born, and I can still remember my mother crying out in pain as I came out. She didn't have time to stop and coddle me, instead she continued to push. I laid upon the ground shivering, fearing for my very own life. And then came another. She would become my sister, Nyx. When she was all done giving birth, she came to us and made us comfortable. As we grew older she was always telling us stories. She had told us of our great future, that we would play a big part of the world in which we lived in. She told us of the powers we would have, and the others we would meet. But she also told us that she was the one who started it all, the one who created the very world itself. And we were her children, the ones who would need to carry on her work. We believed her, being as there were no other creatures about. She said that me and my sister, Nyx, were to grow together and when we came of age we were to breed and repopulate the earth. I saw nothing wrong with this, merely that we would be carrying out our duty, but Nyx refused. She claimed that such a task would be sick, and that no family should ever create more together. She claimed that she had no other love for me than what was brotherly, and deep down I knew that I felt the same.

I am who I am, and no one is going to change me. My heart is cold, and I care little for anyone besides my beloved sister. For her, I am overprotective and often keep her near. Of course, I want nothing other than her happiness, so when the day comes I know I shall have to let her go. I am often very deep and thoughtful in my head, although my words come out as harsh and short, making me come across as loud spoken and ignorant. I am very violent with other stallions, although nothing but tender and sweet with mares, be it a false facade or not, one can never tell. I'm good at playing games, and often mess with one's head. I can easily get other's to trust me, but they wouldn't if they knew what was good for them. I would sell my one sisters soul for the right price, and she I love dearly.

I am the acquaintance of Hades. He rules the underworld, but I am God of the realm in between. The souls come to me once they get off the boat to the underworld, and I watch as they attempt to find their way to him, Hades, to be tortured for their pitiful lives. I am able to send the poor souls back, if I so as please, but such a great misfortune has never happened yet, and if things go as planned, never shall. Once a soul reaches the underworld, though, it is out of my control. I am also able to control the shadows that lurk, they are my puppets and I am their master, nothing more. I can change the lighting, so easily that one might not even know it was me doing such a thing. I can often influence the dreams of a creature, sending in my shadows to haunt their sleepy world and play tricks upon them.