-Raise your Glasses High-

[»d.r.e.a.m [ღ]]

^Take a _Step on the ^Wild Side

.x.Scream to the Heavens.x.

.x.DreamWeaver.x.
.x.Three.x.
.x.Puce and Pallid.x.
.x.Feminine.x.
.x.Arabian x Rocky Mountain x Paint x Quarter.x.
.x.Fourteen Two Hands.x.

.x.No One Cares Enough to Save You.x.[/center][/i]

Born to a rogue mare, Sata, and a rogue sahib, Tronde. Within a day of my beginning of life, my dame brought me to a thicket of long emerald stalks to graze upon. My sire came, and Sata pushed me down. I lay in a cove of blades, surrounding me and hidding me from view. I watched as Tronde slayed Sata, and looking around for me, his nostrils flared. Tronde didn't find me, yet. Once I'd reached the age of three weeks, I was starved, dehydrated and on the brink of death. As I tumbled down a trench into a meadow full of other equine, I stumbled upon Borgon. He took me in, brought me back to health. Soon, Borgon met Lucky, and I was tough and defiant, never disciplined. I disliked Lucky with every fiber of my essence, but I allowed her to be with my sire. As time went on, Lucky adopted my sibling, Distemper. He and I caused much mischeif, and even killed another babe. Distemper passed on, protected me, though I didn't know it. A lupe bit my lower limb, infection set in on the torn tendons, and I was thought to die. Borgon wanted to send me to the humans, my beloved Rendition helped me through it, though, and I didn't have to leave. That's when I was reunited with Tronde. He fought me, attempted to murder me, though I escaped, and am now on these lands.

.x.Let Them Know I'm Coming.x.

Holding an Arabic appearance, I normally have an arched serpentine and highly held plume. With two large audits, normally found plastered in their graves, and two sapphire orbs that can seem irresistable. A dished tiara, and normally dialated nostrils make up my facades. A petite form, standing at merrily fourteen three, and slim, long limbs. Tresses flow from their joining point in my serpentine to the upper limb joint of my forelimbs. Plume scrapes the topography, and licks my hocks. A picture of perfection, yet an attitude that doesn't match. A forelock that, when straightened, goes just above the nostrils. Yet the foretresses usually curve to cover one sapphire orb, the other azule surface to gaze out at the unknown.

.x.Sacrafice Yourself to Save Them.x.

Now, you know the angelic appearance, what about the demonic behavior? Belligerent. One word that describes it all. A yearning to fight, a want to feel the flesh of another tear between my dentals. Strong willed. Don't push me, I'll fight it. Another word for strong willed-thick headed and stubborn, so don't try to get your way with me, I'll always have it mine in the end.

Your Form;
Name: DreamWeaver
Age: Three
Gender: Mare
Breed: Arabian x Rocky Mountain x Paint x Quarter Horse
Height: 14.2hh
Color: Tri-colored paint
Markings: Paint
Secret Word: Arrowhorse
History: Born to a rogue mare, Sata, and a rogue sahib, Tronde. Within a day of my beginning of life, my dame brought me to a thicket of long emerald stalks to graze upon. My sire came, and Sata pushed me down. I lay in a cove of blades, surrounding me and hidding me from view. I watched as Tronde slayed Sata, and looking around for me, his nostrils flared. Tronde didn't find me, yet. Once I'd reached the age of three weeks, I was starved, dehydrated and on the brink of death. As I tumbled down a trench into a meadow full of other equine, I stumbled upon Borgon. He took me in, brought me back to health. Soon, Borgon met Lucky, and I was tough and defiant, never disciplined. I disliked Lucky with every fiber of my essence, but I allowed her to be with my sire. As time went on, Lucky adopted my sibling, Distemper. He and I caused much mischeif, and even killed another babe. Distemper passed on, protected me, though I didn't know it. A lupe bit my lower limb, infection set in on the torn tendons, and I was thought to die. Borgon wanted to send me to the humans, my beloved Rendition helped me through it, though, and I didn't have to leave. That's when I was reunited with Tronde. He fought me, attempted to murder me, though I escaped, and am now on these lands.
Personality: Belligerent. One word that describes it all. A yearning to fight, a want to feel the flesh of another tear between my dentals. Strong willed. Don't push me, I'll fight it. Another word for strong willed-thick headed and stubborn, so don't try to get your way with me, I'll always have it mine in the end.

[i!shadow!i]

Accepted, welcome Dream!! =P