Post by belle on Oct 25, 2012 0:41:54 GMT -5
[th] [bg=#69637b] ♥♥♥ She goes by Belle -- For fourteen years she's roamed these plains. A female , but she strikes like a stallion. One would assume she is a Clydesdale . At withers and hip she stands 17hh -- To remark that she is just one color would be daft, her coat, while sleek and uniform in texture, varies in its hue. At one glance it's a golden chestnut spattered here and there with flakes of white; cast a ray of sunshine on it, however, and you will find the color vastly different. Born into disadvantage, Belle has two different eyes. Her right, a deep liquid amber, laced with delicate filigree lashes, the other, a pastel periwinkle. Through her watercolor eye she cannot see and has not be able to since birth. After so much darkness in her life, she choosesLight. Born into a cold world, where frost and snowflake lined her infant whiskers, Belle matured quickly. From birth she was deprived of half her sight, a fault which might've been her demise had she not had the gentle guidance of her dam. With silken nose on heaving flank, Belle followed her mother, learned that optimism was the fruit of life and that without it the darkness was consuming. At three winters old her mother was felled by a starving mountain lion. As her mother, her savior, sighed her last guttural breath, Belle sank into the darkness. For years she roved in a dank depression, encumbered by her half-formed vision, all she could see was the inadequacy of her own being. At nine winters old, in the fist of a bitter snow storm, Belle faced the demon of her depression. Although not the same emaciated feline that cut down her graceful mother, it was still a cougar --- and Belle despised it. It flung itself across her back like a bony fur coat, its ragged, jagged claws biting through the thick down of her winter coat. Pain cut through the depth of her self-loathing and she whirred and wheeled with a new found lust for life. The battle for her breath raged on until there could be only one victor--- Belle. Scarred and invigorated by her victory she pressed forward through the wind and the snow. She was no weaker than any full-sighted animal, her hoof was just as hard, her kick as strong. She would persevere. ♥♥♥ By no means an angel and less than perfect, Belle strives for the optimism that was instilled in her fillyhood. Serenely she watches life sidle by, intervening only where she sees an injustice, or an underdog. She has a hopeless admiration for the underdog, and will strive to protect an nourish one. A poet in her own mind, Belle is a distant admirer of love. She has known only the incomparable love of her mother, but she knows there is more to the tangle of life than just simply loving ones child. Although placid in appearance, she has a temper than should not be crossed, she is unfraid to draw her line in the soil and claim what is hers if one dares to take it from her. |
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