Sept 26, 2024 6:33:40 GMT
Post by saintjudas on Sept 26, 2024 6:33:40 GMT
Name: Moss
Gender: Mare
Age: 20 Years
Birth Season: Winter
Breed: Shire (Gargoyle)
Coat Colour: Obsidian black with cerulean blue cracks
Mane/Tail Colour: Sapphire
Markings: Cerulean socks, spirals and cracks along the body
Height: 20 hh
Appearance: A tall and sturdy horse, Moss is seemingly all muscle, or rather, well... stone. As though sculpted, she seems very angular and dense, with tufts of craggy sapphire growing along her limbs, seeming to mimic her mane and tail in a spiky and stiff fashion - her mane more like a mohawk then anything else - and making up a pair of sweeping horns. Piercing cerulean green eyes seem cool and neutral as a default state, and along the cracked obsidian outer "coat" of her body the cerulean seems to show through. Along her face, neck, and limbs, moss is starting to grow, and as she gets older it slowly spreads over more of her body. Her tail is long and thin, seemingly reptilian until it ends in a tuft of rocky "fur" unlike what one would expect of a horse, and along her back are folded two large rocky wings that seem to imitate feathers, with sapphire markings.
Personality: Moss in some ways is a little foggy and lost seeming. Having just picked the name of the first thing that came to mind looking into the water to see her reflection, she's still trying to figure herself out. But in other ways, she's strong and decisive, an almost natural leader and explorer who burns with an inner fire. Forging her way ahead through the unknown, she's not contented with letting fear and uncertainty of the unknown, or even a known threat, stop her from anything. She may not speak more then she feels she needs to, preferring to listen and be calm and cool-headed in all things, but she does not bend or kneel without good reason to guide her hooves, and takes up a mantle of guiding others when she finds herself of the belief that those around her are not as capable as she is. And if her help is not wanted, she's content to do it herself. Her drum will march regardless, and she does not care to recklessly leave others behind, not proclaim herself a lone wolf, but she will not match herself to another's standards either.
Notes: Gargoyle! I'll... finish the image soon.
Gender: Mare
Age: 20 Years
Birth Season: Winter
Breed: Shire (Gargoyle)
Coat Colour: Obsidian black with cerulean blue cracks
Mane/Tail Colour: Sapphire
Markings: Cerulean socks, spirals and cracks along the body
Height: 20 hh
Appearance: A tall and sturdy horse, Moss is seemingly all muscle, or rather, well... stone. As though sculpted, she seems very angular and dense, with tufts of craggy sapphire growing along her limbs, seeming to mimic her mane and tail in a spiky and stiff fashion - her mane more like a mohawk then anything else - and making up a pair of sweeping horns. Piercing cerulean green eyes seem cool and neutral as a default state, and along the cracked obsidian outer "coat" of her body the cerulean seems to show through. Along her face, neck, and limbs, moss is starting to grow, and as she gets older it slowly spreads over more of her body. Her tail is long and thin, seemingly reptilian until it ends in a tuft of rocky "fur" unlike what one would expect of a horse, and along her back are folded two large rocky wings that seem to imitate feathers, with sapphire markings.
Personality: Moss in some ways is a little foggy and lost seeming. Having just picked the name of the first thing that came to mind looking into the water to see her reflection, she's still trying to figure herself out. But in other ways, she's strong and decisive, an almost natural leader and explorer who burns with an inner fire. Forging her way ahead through the unknown, she's not contented with letting fear and uncertainty of the unknown, or even a known threat, stop her from anything. She may not speak more then she feels she needs to, preferring to listen and be calm and cool-headed in all things, but she does not bend or kneel without good reason to guide her hooves, and takes up a mantle of guiding others when she finds herself of the belief that those around her are not as capable as she is. And if her help is not wanted, she's content to do it herself. Her drum will march regardless, and she does not care to recklessly leave others behind, not proclaim herself a lone wolf, but she will not match herself to another's standards either.
Notes: Gargoyle! I'll... finish the image soon.
