Name: Micaiah
Gender: Female
Species: Horse
Age: Five
Height: 15.8
Body Type: Warmblood
Coat Color/Markings: Dapple Grey / Hind Right Hoof - White Sock
Mane/Tail Color: Black / Dark Sorrel
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Scars: None Yet
Physical/Mental Abnormalities: Healthy

Genetics: EE/aa/Gg

Played By: Tapioca

Reference Image: Ref.

Micaiah is of a lighter build, compact and muscular with a frame meant for grace. Her legs are strong, well-defined; with broad joints built for endurance and strength. With her broader frame, she can be compared more heavily to a draft horse whose been slowly out bred from the heightened giants. Her coat, once like a midnight sky; has lightened immensly into the cloudy mass it is now with only a few patches of black to her keep her front legs company.

Spirited, an extrovert to the most literal degree, and one who had never believed in personal boundaries. Micaiah is the picture of casual warmth, keeping to a friendly facade even when something has angered and/or confused her. She keeps her emotions under a mask of eternal bemusement, some hint of amusement always present on her features whether she feels such a thing or not. From first meetings, she may come off as airy, overly whimsical, a tad too much of a daydreamer... and in reality it is a truth. She is all of those things, not being one for grudges or quick bouts of anger. Not to say she won't bite at someone overstepping their bounds at a moment's notice but it usual without anger.

She is a natural liar and proud of it, though she would never admit it. Despite happily being the one to start conversations or otherwise invade another's personal space, the mare refuses to share her woes or discontent. Her problems are her own, if she can't fix them then nothing will- period. That is her belief, just as promises should be kept and debts should always be repaid. Such things are common sense to her. It leads to some subtle air of strictness amongst all her light trickery and blunt playfulness. Sure, she plays at the air of grace but in truth- she merely plays with the idea to add some drama to what she sees is already an overly simple life.

But Mia is clever, while not so very calculatingly smart; she knows to watch for signs with a quick reaction time. For someone who relies on her gut and general first impressions, the mare fights with her patience to keep her interests in check. On one hand she may find someone utterly amusing and follow them for ages, on another she may know someone for ages and suddenly abandon them entirely if her interest is lost to that degree. In a way it has created a sort of steadfast protectiveness for her favorites, able to reveal a fiery temper in flashes that last as long as the event. For a prey creature, the girl has an uncanny disregard for her own safety in the face of danger... along with a moderate amount of jealous possessiveness over those she really likes.

Micaiah was born to a smaller herd of the north, made up of kicked out individuals of the three great herds and yet still too small to be of their notice. Her mother was a mere member, no outstanding qualities outside the patience she had for their hotheaded protector, lead stallion, and Mia eventual father. Even so her life had been a steady one without much need for care or worry, politics all but left to those who fought tooth and silvery words for higher positions within the herd. Mia had no need for such a thing, her mother had already told her before after all; that she would one day have to leave the herd.

As a filly, she had found the attention of her half-brothers on more than a few occasions though she'd been able to fend them off herself without much trouble. Her father also a rather heavy hand in those same dealings, fighting with his own colts more than he did with rivals. With those to-be bachelors in check, she'd been content to wait out her time until she would be forced out or bewitched by some handsome bachelor. That was a tradition or so many of her herd's mares would tell her.

Yet when she'd fully matured into a bright young mare, her father refused to let her or any of the other young mares to older fillies leave. He had pressured them both physically and mentally to remain with the herd, to build their numbers until they could contend or at least stand among the three great herds. Obviously, that was just asking for trouble. For two extra years after turning two had Mia been chased back to the herd, potential mates scared off by their fiery tempered lead stallion. It was strange to say the least, more than a bit wrong feeling to her who had dreamed of finding her own life amongst the wilds.

Whether it had been fate or some strange force there to grant the wishes of the mares who'd so heavily desired to find their own paths, their wishes had been granted in a gruesome way. While the herd often stayed far away from predatory grounds, they had to risk the very same when their lead mare was told to guide them away from a rival herd within the area. The only way to go without backtracking lead them straight through dangerous grounds where they had come face-to-face with a pair of mountain lions. The ambush predators lived up to their name, striking when no one expected and taking a single mare down... but it had been enough to spook the herd.

And spooked they were, the frantic leading strands of the herd into various directions. Mia herself had followed after a younger mare, one who had been born a season behind her; before the fool led them off a cliff with one young colt. While Mia survived without much injury, the mare did not, and the colt suffered a broken leg from the impact. She must've used all her luck there as the colt had tried to follow her back to the herd. Which she did try, mind you; as much as she didn't want to- but the path was difficult and a midnight rain made it all but impossible for them to find their way back.

Finally, though she hadn't wished for it quite like that; Micaiah had been freed (albeit with a youngster in tow). In the beginning she had tried to care and protect her fellow until they could find their herd or another to hopefully take them in, keep him safe from the dangers of predators or opportunistic bachelors. But in the end she would fail. Not to instinct or mishap but rather to nature as an infection had grown in the young boy's leg, giving him a very unpleasant end. It had not turned into a memory she could easily recall with a wave of dismissal, being truly horrible at the time.

For once in her life she experienced true loneliness, wandering about in a half-and-half daze of bliss and irony. How long that would last was to be seen- though she didn't dare try to travel south. Even she wasn't that desperate.