| Subject: Presence isn't everything, is it? |
Author:
Anòrien
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Date Posted: 22:57:00 10/08/02 Tue
A seal brown mare quietly jogs into the territory, completely ignoring the stirrups flapping against her sides and the reins threatening to entangle her legs. Drawing to a halt, she lifts her dark head and looks around for some other form or sign of life. Her dappled hide holds a soft glow from recent grooming, yet it has no shine as many of the horses around her do. Nothing really eye-catching stands out about the mare. By the look of her long, slender legs and frame, one would guess her to be a Thoroughbred. Her coat lacks the vibrant shades chestnut or blood bay, but is a softer, plainer brown. Though she is certainly plain, there is something to be said about her looks. Her conformation is nearly faultless, and though her head is plain, it holds no ugliness. Presence is something to forget about, and she knows it. Years of listlessly trotting around a show ring with some rich child or another upon her back that couldn’t ride for their lives taught her that knee-action, snorting, and prancing about like a fool gets one nowhere but a whip across the back. She chuckles quietly to herself and picks picks up that steady jog again.
Name: Anòrien
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age: That's a personal question.
Color: I've said that, but I'll say it again: Seal brown
Gender: I believe I've stated that as well.
Height: Finally, something I haven't noted. She stands about 15.2 hands.
Personality: Rather obvious, isn't it? This easy going mare couldn't care less.
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