Name: Aryel
Gender: Mare
Species: Horse
Age: 3 years
Height: 13.3 hh (claims to be 14)
Body Type: Pony
Coat Color/Markings: Grulla (blue dun), four white socks, blaze
Mane/Tail Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Scars: Thin, faded claw marks on right wither, product of a puma attack.
Physical/Mental Abnormalities: Naturally-short, bristly mane and tail, forelock is closer to normal length

Genetics: Dd/Ee/aa

Played By: FennecFyre

Reference Image: N/A - working on this

The little mare's body is distinctly primitive in build, as if she hailed from a time and place far-removed from the modern day. Her form is stocky and economical, with sturdy limbs, a well-built head, and a thick and hardy coat designed to keep her comfortable in the worst of weather. Though not a powerhouse by any means, she is still surprisingly well-muscled for a creature her size, and makes up in endurance for what she lacks in brute strength.

Her coat, which becomes distinctly shaggy in the fall before smoothing out again in late spring, is grulla in color. She is mainly blueish-grey, fading to a much darker shade on her head, below her knees, and in a dorsal line running from mane to tail. Above her knees are brindled stripes of the same color, another indicator of a primitive bloodline. A white blaze runs from her velvety nose, between bright black eyes, and disappears under her fluffy forelock. Four white socks are present as well, just above her hooves. Due to a genetic quirk, her mane and tail, both a dark shade, are short and bristly, with a coarse, weatherproof texture. Her forelock is closer to the normal length, and has a tendency to hang impishly in her eyes.

It could be said that Aryel's spirit is that of a much larger horse. She is as hot-blooded as they come, fiercely independent and utterly irreverent. Courageous to the point of foolhardiness, and possessing a fierce sense of right and wrong, she will gladly take on any opponent--no matter the odds--if the cause is just. She places absolutely no stock in titles, borders, or bloodline, leading many to consider her little more than a disrespectful, rebellious brat--a mantle she carries proudly, if the way she revels in puckishly antagonizing "superior" horses is any indication. Those who do earn her respect will find a loyal companion under the layers of insubordination, though she still retains a willful personality regardless.

The girl is an adrenaline junkie to her core, always looking for the next big thrill, whether it be in the form of a situation or another horse. While she loves to banter, she will also leap into a fight with gusto, whether it be a friendly spar or a full-on brawl. She often goes looking for trouble, and though this has blown up in her face more than once, she never seems to learn. She thrives on action and conflict, and will get it however she can. To dance with death, in her mind, is to be truly alive.

She is vivacious, idealistic, and outgoing, always ready to make a new friend or share in a bout of storytelling. However, her sheer intensity can be off-putting to some, and more sensible horses may find it exasperating to be around her for an extended period of time. It could also be inferred that her readiness to fight stems from a sense of deep insecurity and a desire to prove herself worthy of survival. She is, after all, one very small horse in a very large world.

Despite her cantankerous nature, she does display a softer side at times. She is easygoing with children and can be surprisingly compassionate, always willing to provide a shoulder to cry on or a warm body to guard against the cold. In matters of the heart, she is a ready flirt, but is apprehensive about allowing herself to be tied down in one place to one man.

Aryel is odd in that, while she had lived in these lands all her life, she cannot truly claim belonging to either the North or the South. Her story began when a high-ranking mare named Ariessa, of one of the more prominent Northern herds fled her home in the wake of courtly intrigue. Both she and another mare had their eye on the title of lead mare, and when she got wind that her rival was planning to organize a series of "accidents" to get her out of the way, she decided to leave while she could. The mare traveled south, eventually finding herself in the company of a tribe of stocky southerner horses, more primitive in both build and culture than most. Their chief, Khurakh, was intrigued by her seemingly exotic form and took her as his consort, though there was little that could be called love between them.

The result was a scrawny filly born of two worlds, inheriting both her father's stature and her mother's uncommon grulla coloring. She grew up fighting to prove herself among her father's other children, Southern horses through and through, and established herself as a fiery girl, fiercely determined despite her different heritage. She might have spent her days in the quiet anonymity of the arid scrublands if her mother had not received word that the situation back home had changed. It was safe for her return, and so she did, taking her daughter without so much as a goodbye to her mate.

The transition to a “civilized” Northern life was a jarring and painful one for the young girl. Though possessing a noble bloodline, she didn’t look or act as such, and certainly wasn’t treated like it. Civilized children didn’t solve their disputes or establish their “pecking order” with spars and races. Her mother’s attempts to get her to act more like a proper filly were fruitless, and she grew up into a lonely, combative young lady with few friends her own age. Ariessa’s final measure, betrothing her daughter to a stern man who would hopefully keep Aryel from getting into even more trouble, was the final straw. Before they could be paired off, she ran away, preferring the familiar hardships of the South to the cold of the North.