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KENREN
ADMIN
CAVALLO
ADMIN
STAFFER NAME
POSITION
STAFFER NAME
POSITION
the world
Season: Summer Year: One
Major Weather: The summer is starting to show signs of being one of the worst yet, with temperatures already climbing and the water beginning to dry up in the furthest reaches of the South.
Name: Medea Gender: Mare Species: Horse Age: 3 1/2 years Height: 16.3 Hands Body Type: Warmblood Coat Color/Markings: Seal Bay Roan (pearl carrier) | Blaze and 4 Stockings (Minimal Sabino) Mane/Tail Color: Black Eye Color: Black Scars: There are a few minor on her chest, sides, and hindlegs, as well as some smaller scratches on her face. The largest scar, however, is a large and long hoof mark that runs down the right side of her face, narrowly missing her eye. It's usually covered with hair however. Physical/Mental Abnormalities: Healthy Genetics: Ee/Ata/nPrl/nRn/nSb (I have no idea how horse genetics work haha, but I thought this was pretty close.) Played By: Mikachu
Tall, imposing, regal, godlike, all worthy descriptors when describing Medea. Crafted from pure genes and moulded from a life where she used to be less than nothing, Medea carries herself as a victor, a being who has survived trial after trial and who has emerged stronger and more powerful than before. Her gait is one characterized by a bold elegance, it flows like river weaves around rock, the long curls streaming from her hooves like wings on the wind with each graceful step.
Her thick, curly mane and tail bounce teasingly as she moves, never without purpose, a clear-cut goal always on her mind and shining in her ebony eyes. Medea, being taller than she is muscular, is on the leaner side of most Warmblood, and had she not donned feathered hooves, most would probably assume that she is a Hotblooded Mare at first glance. But, while she is a creature who excels in speed and agility, strength and power certainly do not escape her, and though it may be surprising, she is a fierce combatant when pressed and is certainly not a light hitter. Height is her primary advantage, though in her youth, she is suspected to grow slightly more, an idea that she hopes will come into fruition, but, given her height already, expects not to (17.0 hands once full grown).
Medea's colouring is largely on the darker side, the largest colouring on her body is a section of a greyish-brown that covers her side, back and parts of her legs and neck, yet much darker seal points dance between this grey and the white points that mark her legs and face. Her mane and tail, like her eyes, are an endless sea of black, very much resembling a calm pool of water reflecting the moon in the middle of the night.
Despite her beauty, she is not a mare who has been untainted, small scars cover her body, gashes from "punishments" inflicted by the dominant males of her old herd. The largest scar, however, is the first one, gained when she was only a few days old, her mark as a slave, inflicted by the lead stallion, her father, when she strayed too far from her mother. It's a large gash inflicted by his powerful hooves that starts above her right eye and trails down close to her nostril. Time has healed it almost completely, but it's still visible when left uncovered by her mane.
personality
She has been tested by brutality and cruelty, the once warm filly broken into an ice-cold being who has little regard for those she doesn't call friend or family. Her short time in the world has been marked by being less, and now, Medea wants to be more, and in many ways, she already is. This female is one of an almost never-ending calmness and patience, emotion rarely crosses her face and the few instances of expressing body language are basic and primal, typically little more than a simple and fleeting moment of instinct. Even in the face of hostility, Medea can manage to keep her cool no matter what. Her calmness and patience are not her only traits, however, above all else Medea is a tactician, smart as a whip is fast, she prefers to be a few steps ahead of everyone else and to think in a view coloured by pragmatism instead of rosiness. Despite this however, Medea is certainly no paragon, she is not the actor on the stage but rather the puppetmaster running the show. She likes to handle things quietly and without much fanfare or attention. The best things, after all, are surprises.
history
She was born in the North, a life that would imply fruitfulness and success. In Medea's case, such a fact couldn't be farther from the truth.
From the moment she was born her and her herd were on the move. Nomads with no home, each day was marked with uncertainty, but not by outside threats. No, the worst threats are always those that come from within.
Her herd was less of a herd and more of a cult of sorts, one where the females would be brainwashed into thinking that their sole purpose was bearing foals, and where the males viewed themselves as Gods among mortals. Fortunately, the group was small, consisting of three males and two females (her mother and her), the group were trapped in a fledgling state where they lacked the resources to take more territory and mares, a fact that would dampen their plan of living out their "godhood". Medea's father was the lead stallion of the herd, with the other two stallions being her elder brothers. Because of this, during her youth, Medea was seen as being useless in a female's traditional role, and was thus tasked with training in the art of scouting and subterfuge. Her first memories all involved training, being taken from her mother in the day, brainwashed to conform to her reconnaissance role and the "gods" will before she was returned to her mother during the night. Lessons were cruel and harsh, where mistakes would often lead to bruises and cuts that would scar over her body. The largest one, on her face, was one that bore a firm reminder for what happened with instructions were disobeyed.
As she grew older, her purpose became clear. She participated in the tasks that she was given, and followed them with no hesitation or questioning. Almost daily she would venture far ahead of her herd and watch neighbouring ones to see when they would use their feeding grounds, and it was during those ventures and the running back and forth that they required where she began to think independently, where she began to see the injustices that plagued her herd, how, in most families, foals were loved instead of scarred and where their mistakes would not end up in them losing blood. As her eyes opened, Medea soon began to hatch a plan on when to leave. She chose to do so as soon as the current winter ended, when the weather would grow warmer and where she would have time to prepare for the next year's winter. Soon, that day came, and though she could not convince her mother to follow, it was easy for her to slip away during her scouting mission, and from then on she was on her own.
Now, Medea is a loner, once beaten into serving her Father, she finds great relief in the fact that now, for the time being at least, all she needs to do is serve herself.