Nero is not gifted in the looks department. His colour is perhaps his saving grace, but even that is dull and bleak compared to most in Helovia. Faded black with white roaning extensive over his back, stomach, and hip, with darker points on his face and legs. Nothing particularly exciting, and his mottled wings only add to the impression of a sickly pigeon, plumage half pecked away. His eyes are a dull mustard set in a highly unrefined skull, clunky and oversized. At least he has a somewhat kind expression. From there, his neck is thick and short. The draft mutt's back is very long, and his legs are peculiarly short, and solid with good bone, with some feathering. His rump is also undersized in comparison to his shoulder, adding up to an animal who looks a bit odd. While clumsy looking, he is still strong with good muscle and can happily move great distances- even if flying looks a tad ungainly.

Nero has a chip on his shoulder about everything. While not inherently a bad guy, he's very cynical and critical. His appearance has made him unpleasant to deal with as he covers his self-loathing and self-consciousness with a temper. Despite being relatively young, he acts as foul as an aged horse who has had a difficult life. He speaks with spite and maliciousness, eager to drive everyone away. Only those who push past the anger and defensiveness see he is not quite as terrible as he acts. In reality, he's just that typical asshole- projecting onto everyone else. Beneath that is a pretty lost individual who is lonely, bored, and sick to death of everything going wrong. It'd be easy enough for him to either relinquish his nasty exterior and find something valuable to do, or go completely the opposite direction. He doesn't really like the world, and it hasn't really treated him well. He finds it difficult to believe anything nice really happens- and if it does, something bad will follow soon after. If he finds something that proves that theory wrong i daresay he'd become a kinder, less grumpy individual. If one more little thing tips him over the edge... He'd be happy to watch the world burn. He's extremely stubborn and a bit daft in his obtuseness. He does things his way and his way only- even if he is offered a better alternative. He has a morbid sense of humour, and a soft spot for foals. He has very little respect, however, for mares and quite a prejudice. Even though he wouldn't admit it, he has somewhat a fear of other stallions and this fear gets masked by aggression. He's paranoid and just the teeniest bit dramatic. Deep down he'd love if he got paid more attention, but loves to avoid thinking about that by avoiding as many social situations as he can. The less people he meets, the less they can prove him wrong.

Erina - Appaloosa pony x Unknown draft stallion

He was born in a small herd not too far from Helovia. His mother was once in a relatively high position within the group, but after encountering a nasty stallion, her reputation was ruined. To make matters worse, the ordeal left her pregnant. The lead stallion was relatively forgiving, for those parts, and rather then being forced out, she instead just became somewhat of an outcast. When a big-headed moose of a colt was born, she just blamed him, her pity for herself manifesting into hate for this helpless little foal. He was lucky to survive- she was just as likely to kick him as to feed him, and so he weaned very early. It likely did not help with his odd proportions. Within the herd he also inherited her very low rank; and without personality or looks to save him, he was quickly the punching bag of the youngsters. With his mother not around to help, and the older horses looking at him with disdain, his hide was frequently littered with teeth and hoof wounds. He hid as much as he could, and tried to run, but his heavy draft legs and body meant he wasn't very fast. He continued to grow, however, long after they had stopped. As two year olds, they were slim and short, nearing their finished heights, while he continued to expand upwards and outwards. Nero continued to be the victim out of habit alone. He realized suddenly he no longer had to be when, purely as a reaction, he kicked back at a horse who bit at his rump. The colt fell backwards. His unaimed kick provided much greater damage then theirs could, and from then on they would only taunt him in groups. Even then, Nero found it easy to inflict equal amounts of damage upon them. Then they left him alone. Just a week after, before he knew what was happening, the lead stallion was attacking him. While not large he was much stronger, more experienced, and faster. Bites and kicks rained down upon him, and he was driven away from the herd bloody and beaten. The other youngsters remained, treading carefully with this reminder of what an older male could do. From then on, Nero wandered. If he came across any individual his first instinct was to fight or flee; his past had taught him to be very wary of everyone. Unfortunately, those he came across taught him no differently. The fights he had were numerous, and wandering into Helovia, he was prepared for more of the same.

Daisy