Post by smokycat3 on Nov 24, 2009 12:13:40 GMT -5
Name of Character(s):Zariya
Text:Zariya - Home is where you belong
Quote:Home is where you belong
Species:Horse
Age:roughly 5
Gender:Female
Breed:Arabian
Colour:Dapple gray
Physical Appearance:She's very delicately built, soft blue eyes and a faint Sabino marking over one eye and another one below that perking up from her muzzle. They also show faintly as socks on her legs. She recently had a bad run in with a draft stallion that gave her two matching scars down her flank, and she's now missing a nick of her ear. There's still an imprint of the stallion's hoof on her chest.
Personality:She's mostly a perky sort, not a fighter. She tends to be quiet and submissive. She doesn't know how, and wouldn't want to, fight. She's a sweet thing, but since her little run in and him labeling her a "whore" she's turned into a bit of one.
Images or References: i19.photobucket.com/albums/b157/wickedcarnage/Hobgoblin%20Images/evonne_edit.jpg It was a Spectra freebie, and though I love it I'd like to have something made just for her, and something that includes the scars.
Image Ideas: : o For once I have none. If someone has any sort of idea for it , run with it. I would like it to somehow include water, and if you can work it in, a weeping willow, but otherwise. Go!
Example post with requested character:
I'm nobody
Who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there's a pair of us you know...
What have we got to fear?
Zariya was an odd one, I'll admit. Her color was that of a faded dapple grey, vibrant enough to still look good, but nothing off the charts ridiculous looking. Her eyes were icy, blue, and at this moment, wary. Wary of what this land could and did hold, and wary of what might be around that corner. She spied the famous Weeping Willow, a place where she often found comfort from every day life in this desolate hell hole. As she peered from eyes that had led a sheltered life, you could notice the faint black sabino markings around her eye, and one peeking up from the nose. This appeared on just the one size. She was in a slow, rocking horse canter as she moved toward the willow, but you could tell this was the slowest she had moved for a long time. Pink nostrils flared as she approached the crying tree.
She slowed to a walk coming upon it, careful about who could be behind it. She had been taught to do things this way, and her running didn't affect her mood. She was hot blooded, a full Arab as best she knew. Still, running for hours on end was an acquired skill, and one she had had to work hard at gaining. Zari was a sissy, something she wasn't afraid to admit to. She didn't belong here, in this part of the land. Many a wandering soul had told her she should go south, that she wouldn't survive in this place long at all. Her bodice had a light coat of sweat, and a slightly darker coat of fine tan dust sticking to the sweat. She knew that she really shouldn't be in the weak lands, that one day being in the weak lands would kill her, but until then she was going to stick with it. Her motto was that home was where you belong, and she firmly believed that the weak lands were her home and that she belonged there, silly and sissy or not.
Not a drop of fighting blood came to the mare, nor had she ever tried to change that. She had always been altogether too happy not being able to fight. She hadn't really ever had a problem with stallions, not a serious one. Her good looks, charm, with, and size usually stopped them. Well, it was mostly just her wit with the average stupid draft brute. Drafts were interesting things to her. She didn't like the brutes, but they usually were just so stupid that you go on for hours on end playing games with them if you knew how to wind them in circles. Oh, she may not have been a fighter, but she was clever, and as they say, it's not force I fear but wit.
Stepping cautiously toward the tree, she almost expected a draft to jump out and say boo. It would have been sickly appropriate for that to happen here, in the one place she felt safe. Really, was there anywhere in these lands that anyone could feel safe, at home, or even like a normal horse should? Here, the stories of the south were too good to believe. Good, soft, green grass... she hadn't even know that such a thing as green grass existed before she met a traveling southern stallion. And such things as a beach with an ocean, that should be something out of a fairy tale certainly. Zari was good with good hard truth, and didn't like being lied too. Some of what the stallion had told her, she didn't believe even had a basis in fact. Really, so much water that it flowed in things called rivers, that had enough force to carve a path through a mountain? That water was clean and safe to drink without risks. That no one wanted to cause any one else harm? Really, it was almost worth wanting to fight for. But then again, she didn't really believe any of it, so how could she?
Zari walked straight up to the willow, and leaned against it. Her head and neck curved enough, that her chin touched her chest before she let it dip to sniff at a fallen green willow leaf. She didn't really feel like eating it. She wasn't going to lower herself that far. In here, under the tree, the shade was actually quite pleasant, and it would give her time to think before she had to go back to her "home", a place that was covered with more draft stallions intrested in her heated smell than she thought must exist in the south. Really, what was with them and being so god damn horny all the time. She didn't ask to come into heat every spring and summer and you didn't see her jumping up and down asking to get bred either. It was just a fact of life, and she didn't run like most mares if a stallion confronted her. She was a sissy at heart though, and kept on moving as fast as she could to avoid such a confrontation if at all possible. She didn't expect something so much like that to happen here, which is probably why it was about to.
I'm nobody
Who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there's a pair of us you know...
What have we got to fear?
Comments:: o None
Signature?: Yes, 450x200
Which site(s) will you be using the image to?The Secret
Specific Artist?:Crazy if you have time. You did such good job on Addicted. Otherwise, you're all awesome, and I'm sure whoever takes it will do it wonderfully.
Text:Zariya - Home is where you belong
Quote:Home is where you belong
Species:Horse
Age:roughly 5
Gender:Female
Breed:Arabian
Colour:Dapple gray
Physical Appearance:She's very delicately built, soft blue eyes and a faint Sabino marking over one eye and another one below that perking up from her muzzle. They also show faintly as socks on her legs. She recently had a bad run in with a draft stallion that gave her two matching scars down her flank, and she's now missing a nick of her ear. There's still an imprint of the stallion's hoof on her chest.
Personality:She's mostly a perky sort, not a fighter. She tends to be quiet and submissive. She doesn't know how, and wouldn't want to, fight. She's a sweet thing, but since her little run in and him labeling her a "whore" she's turned into a bit of one.
Images or References: i19.photobucket.com/albums/b157/wickedcarnage/Hobgoblin%20Images/evonne_edit.jpg It was a Spectra freebie, and though I love it I'd like to have something made just for her, and something that includes the scars.
Image Ideas: : o For once I have none. If someone has any sort of idea for it , run with it. I would like it to somehow include water, and if you can work it in, a weeping willow, but otherwise. Go!
Example post with requested character:
I'm nobody
Who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there's a pair of us you know...
What have we got to fear?
Zariya was an odd one, I'll admit. Her color was that of a faded dapple grey, vibrant enough to still look good, but nothing off the charts ridiculous looking. Her eyes were icy, blue, and at this moment, wary. Wary of what this land could and did hold, and wary of what might be around that corner. She spied the famous Weeping Willow, a place where she often found comfort from every day life in this desolate hell hole. As she peered from eyes that had led a sheltered life, you could notice the faint black sabino markings around her eye, and one peeking up from the nose. This appeared on just the one size. She was in a slow, rocking horse canter as she moved toward the willow, but you could tell this was the slowest she had moved for a long time. Pink nostrils flared as she approached the crying tree.
She slowed to a walk coming upon it, careful about who could be behind it. She had been taught to do things this way, and her running didn't affect her mood. She was hot blooded, a full Arab as best she knew. Still, running for hours on end was an acquired skill, and one she had had to work hard at gaining. Zari was a sissy, something she wasn't afraid to admit to. She didn't belong here, in this part of the land. Many a wandering soul had told her she should go south, that she wouldn't survive in this place long at all. Her bodice had a light coat of sweat, and a slightly darker coat of fine tan dust sticking to the sweat. She knew that she really shouldn't be in the weak lands, that one day being in the weak lands would kill her, but until then she was going to stick with it. Her motto was that home was where you belong, and she firmly believed that the weak lands were her home and that she belonged there, silly and sissy or not.
Not a drop of fighting blood came to the mare, nor had she ever tried to change that. She had always been altogether too happy not being able to fight. She hadn't really ever had a problem with stallions, not a serious one. Her good looks, charm, with, and size usually stopped them. Well, it was mostly just her wit with the average stupid draft brute. Drafts were interesting things to her. She didn't like the brutes, but they usually were just so stupid that you go on for hours on end playing games with them if you knew how to wind them in circles. Oh, she may not have been a fighter, but she was clever, and as they say, it's not force I fear but wit.
Stepping cautiously toward the tree, she almost expected a draft to jump out and say boo. It would have been sickly appropriate for that to happen here, in the one place she felt safe. Really, was there anywhere in these lands that anyone could feel safe, at home, or even like a normal horse should? Here, the stories of the south were too good to believe. Good, soft, green grass... she hadn't even know that such a thing as green grass existed before she met a traveling southern stallion. And such things as a beach with an ocean, that should be something out of a fairy tale certainly. Zari was good with good hard truth, and didn't like being lied too. Some of what the stallion had told her, she didn't believe even had a basis in fact. Really, so much water that it flowed in things called rivers, that had enough force to carve a path through a mountain? That water was clean and safe to drink without risks. That no one wanted to cause any one else harm? Really, it was almost worth wanting to fight for. But then again, she didn't really believe any of it, so how could she?
Zari walked straight up to the willow, and leaned against it. Her head and neck curved enough, that her chin touched her chest before she let it dip to sniff at a fallen green willow leaf. She didn't really feel like eating it. She wasn't going to lower herself that far. In here, under the tree, the shade was actually quite pleasant, and it would give her time to think before she had to go back to her "home", a place that was covered with more draft stallions intrested in her heated smell than she thought must exist in the south. Really, what was with them and being so god damn horny all the time. She didn't ask to come into heat every spring and summer and you didn't see her jumping up and down asking to get bred either. It was just a fact of life, and she didn't run like most mares if a stallion confronted her. She was a sissy at heart though, and kept on moving as fast as she could to avoid such a confrontation if at all possible. She didn't expect something so much like that to happen here, which is probably why it was about to.
I'm nobody
Who are you?
Are you nobody too?
Then there's a pair of us you know...
What have we got to fear?
Comments:: o None
Signature?: Yes, 450x200
Which site(s) will you be using the image to?The Secret
Specific Artist?:Crazy if you have time. You did such good job on Addicted. Otherwise, you're all awesome, and I'm sure whoever takes it will do it wonderfully.