Seanan is abnormally tall (at nearly 17 hh) and nearly all the height is in his legs and neck. Spindly, his frame appears fragile. Naught but delicate skin stretched over bird-bones. His chest is wide though, his body long. There is muscle to him but it is easy to dismiss, lying flat and close to his skeleton. His fur is fine, translucent white that shimmers faintly mother-of-pearl. Like a heat mirage. Even in winter it is thin and sleek, offering no protection from the cold. His tail and mane are gossamer fine and ragged. His face shows the refinement of his breed with a straight profile, wide nostrils, and hooded almond eyes. His ears are a touch too long in proportion. It lends itself to a certain dopeyness, especially when combined with his often awkward carriage. Dainty hooves are a delicate pink like the inside of a seashell. His eyes are pale rose that lean towards lavender in bright sunlight.

It's hard to see the wheels turning behind the half-mad eyes.

Nothing Seanan does is without purpose. He legitimately enjoys social games, though sometimes it seems he takes them too far. The comfort of others is something he cares very little for. Fiercely independent, Seanan chooses to avoid direct conflict in asserting his authority over his own life. Instead he would rather make himself seem unable to follow direction rather than unwilling. If others believe him mad well, he has no objection. That may even be the point though he isn't sure what the point of this is anymore. It's been a long time since he stopped playing with people. He isn't sure he knows how.

Emotions are troubling thing for Seanan. He has few coping mechanisms to deal with them and has little ability to understand the emotions of others. He has no apparent temper and limitless patience. However, an emotionally volatile situation triggers a fight or flight response in him that threatens to overcome the best of his logical thinking.

The young also provoke a strange response from the pale stallion. He tends to ignore them when possible. When it isn't, he displays something very near panic- a gentle sort of panic. He tends to treat foals as if they are precious and fragile, but terrifying. The faster he can extricate himself from them, the better.

Seanan is honest. This is perhaps the one thing that can always be relied upon. He is directly, painfully honest. He even goes out of his way to try and prevent misunderstandings of his words (barring riddles and word games). Though he may manipulate someone's perception of him by the way he acts, he has no desire to manipulate through half-truths and lies.

Home.

There was a herd. Long legged, lean bodied horses who shimmered in the sun like mirages. They ran across the desert with the swiftness of the wind at their heels. There were cream colored colts who flicked their heels. There was a blood colored mare with eyes like the sun. There was a grey mare as turbulent as the sudden desert storms. There was a golden mare who smelled like desert flowers.

They were the jewels of the desert.

But gods are petty. Gods are envious. And someone stole the jewels of the desert and placed them in an iron casket.

The rest is past. Present: Entered Helovia in Birdsong of the Seventh Year