nine in the [afternoon]

●●MEETING THE MAKER
alias: verdades
histories: none!

●●MAKING A MARK
moniker: Three
age: three
bloodlines: Arabian
bits and bobs: female

●●KEEPING UP APPEARANCES
physical description:

Coat of light grey, covered in silver dapples. Tracing the lines of her lower legs are dark points, emphasising the lean grace of the sculpted muscles decorating her skeleton. Mane and tail are a waterfall of steel grey sweeping across her hide and teased by the wind at the slightest opportunity.
Her body appears lithe, with all of the fine-boned tendencies inherent in the Arabian bloodline. Her height further exaggerates this appearance, as she stands no more than 14.2hh, creating a delicate, doll-like image.
True still to her bloodline, the arched face is dominated by a pair of large, molten eyes. Their colour is somewhat unusual, a pale grey which reflects the colours around; pale jade green, white-washed sky blue, and occasionally a shimmering silver.

traits description

- stubborn
- bossy
- believes that nothing will be done right unless she does it herself
- gruff
- naive/innocent - not very worldly, but unaware of this fact
- something of a superiority complex
- poor decision making skills

Despite her weaknesses (and there are many of them), she always tries to do the best by herself and those she cares about. She means well, but is often sidetracked by something more superfluous than any real issues at hand.

●●SHOW US WHAT YOU'VE GOT
sample post:

And your eyes are the size of the moon You could 'cause you can so you do We're feeling so good just the way that we do When it's nine in the afternoon Ick. Simply ick. Elegant legs hesitantly lowered small ebony hooves towards the soaked ground, delicately seeking the grassiest patch to step. The early spring lands were very verdant, though the cause was obvious in the waterlogged earth beneath the rich grasses. Step in the wrong place, and water would squish up around your hooves, and you'd sink just a millimetre or two. Simply ick. Not that she ought to care, given the speed with which her inky daggers would dry when out of this muck. Though that was the issue, wasn't it? When would be she clear of the marshy surrounds? Carefully placed step after carefully placed step, the silver dappled belle navigated the treacherous ground, heading towards the fringes of the forest over in the distance. Even early in the morning, as it was, the sun beamed down from the azure sky, not golden enough to gild the tangled tresses of the delicate belle, but target | WIP | ohgod it's been forever since I posted