Post by Taelai on Jul 20, 2009 7:49:33 GMT -5
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For a paint horse there are few 'splattered' markings upon his body, but there are few, one on his hindquarters, giving him the look of an appaloosa horse. His pelt base color? Grullo, something quite very rare, and on his face is a thin blaze, reaching his grey muzzle, though it could be called a stripe due to how thin it really is. His mane is black, and his tail at the top is white but that blends out to become black.
His pelt is always as clean as one can manage, even the white markings upon his body are kept at there cleanest, his hooves are pale in color, and his eyes, something to marvel at. They are a rich chocolate amber in shade. always showing what care he holds, the fear and perhaps the hate.
Thysodael has been known to speak a second language, only those of his previous tribe would truly understand everything, and yet those who understand the names of many places amongst the isle would perhaps have a small amount of understanding toward his secondary language.
Thysodael can be quite the gentleman when it comes to settling problems or even just talking to another, but if a fight is to unfold then he will gladly fight. Speak first fighting will come later for those who truly wish to stand and fight.
Too young to become a part of any army he had to stay with his mother and try his hardest to help her, what none found out until long after the pretty mare passed away was that she had been poisoned. He ran, unable to bare the pain of being where he had stood by and watched his mother die. Alone he screamed out his anger.
"ShARAS!"
His language to some unknown, but to others like those of his family and most of his tribe, they understood. An old herd they are, they stood and watched the earth become named, and some even had a place naming it. The herd knew everything one could of an ever changing land, Indians among horses if you wish, those closest to the world and it's places and changes.
All of the stallions old enough were drawn away to fight the coming war, to train for the fight and aid the Avions or as the tribe called them Eilol which is Avions translated into the herds own language. The young brute had nothing to return to, the mares went with there mates to help them each day they would return, and those without a mate scattered or went with the herd wanting to keep the herd together. And yet he being too young to help was forced to roam the isle alone.
Thysodael is his name, and his coloring of a dusty grey-brown with white patches upon his body, and even at his young age of two he stood tall. Not quite as tall as he would by the time he reached five when his growth would slow, by his tenth year of life he would be fully grown with no changes to accept, none besides wounds and the changes herds threw his way.
He knew the natural language of the equines of the isle and yet more often than not he would speak his natural tongue, at times he would use there language but his was natural to him and so thus most used.
Over two years he fully understood the language of the isle and would speak it to those new to him, and yet at times he would slip into speaking 'naturally' often confusing equines with his words.
He came across many a mare, and few stallions no mare could he love like his mother. and yet that was until he found her, or she found him. Shaerorer was what he named her for she came to him with no name, her name meaning 'Beautiful' and in his eyes that was her described in one word, and yet that one word was never enough.
She grew to understand everything about him, even his language and reason for running, but like everyone else she would try and pursued him to join a herd and become a part of this war to create peace. Many would fall because none could accept the differences of the land and even fellow equines, three alliances formed, then a fourth, the one that over time won his vote the mare?
Well without him knowing she was already one of the main herd members, but a fighter so his lovely mare over time got to know many a stallion, and even if he was a strange stallion he was not enough for her greedy mind and so like the lovely queen of the Avions he was left pained to see his love simply turn and walk away from him, saying he was not what she wanted.
He became a rouge, the pain of loosing the mares he loved, one his mother, the other his mate. Thysodael could not take the pain of his loss, he became a warrior for the Rouges and also to the Incendists, he would be forced to fight against his father, and yet he would not fight him, no he would fight for his freedom. He would be with his father once more, he would tell him of there loss after the fight.
Time went on, so did his life, and yet nothing amazing happened, pain drew anger from him, and anger forced him against the alliance of the one he loved for his mate of the past joined the Avions in there side of the war, her and her mate. His old herd were not forgotten, perhaps one day he will be able to find them and then restart the herd and the peace it held...
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((OOC// Last one for a while(If you want translations for words PM me(Click 'banner' For image)))
