the Rift


[THROAT] Rocks and Bones
Ascended Helovian

Gaucho The Wildfire Posts: 1,004
Deceased atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.2 :: 12 HP: 85 | Buff: PINNACLE
Mara :: Black Mamba Snake :: Paralyze & Vorsa :: Plain Zephyr :: Phoenix Odd
#1

Hunt. Sleep.

Gather. Protect. Hunt. Sleep.

Gather. Protect. Hunt. Fight

Fight.

Gaucho's life was a simple one - his days consisted of a primal ritual of satisfying his needs and urges. He was a creature who relied on his most basic instincts to tell him where to go, when to sleep, when to mate, and when to die. Though if the powerful heart pumping within his broad chest was any indication, his time to die would not be anytime soon.

And so, like countless others before him, Gaucho entered the Threshold.

Be. Claim. He thought unemotionally. He could scent a plethora of other equines in this place, indicating that this was the coming ground, as he referred to it. The area where those entering were laid claim to, and carried home like some prize. Gaucho had a position like that once, when he was younger. Yet he was far too condescending and disapproving of the stallions, and was too quick to lust for each mare to keep that title for long. He felt a primitive rage at having to start from the bottom and work his way back up to a rank befitting his warrior-self, but knew that it was an eventuality.

Gaucho stood an impressive 17.2hh towering over his most. His coat was a deep bay, with odd primitive markings covering his haunches and shoulders - they were a rust colour, as if so much blood had been spilt on him that eventually it could no longer be washed off. So too - the tips of his black wings were a bloody red. Around his left eye was a creamy-coloured marking resembling the rays of the sun, and piercing his nose was a fine and sharp piece of bone.

"Gaucho, here" He rumbled, his voice deep and his pronunciation indicating that he did not speak often, or at least, not very well eloquently. Rearing, the stallion screamed a cry into the stillness - calling for those who would be drawn in by such a battle cry, rather than run from it. He was not looking to make friends, but rather to join a powerful herd. Was he power hungry? Titles meant nothing to the primal brute, but fighting, and defending certainly did.

Please tag me in every post! Magic/Force is allowed on Gaucho at any time.



Messages In This Thread
Rocks and Bones - by Gaucho - 01-24-2013, 11:35 PM
RE: Rocks and Bones - by Levi - 01-25-2013, 01:32 PM
RE: Rocks and Bones - by Gaucho - 01-25-2013, 01:49 PM
RE: Rocks and Bones - by Levi - 01-25-2013, 02:15 PM
RE: Rocks and Bones - by Gaucho - 01-25-2013, 02:36 PM

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