Oryx

[onyx]

Name: Oryx
Age: 12
Gender: Bronc
deity-or-Normal: Deity

Personality: Quiet and wise, this brute isn't one to make any sort of fuss over anything. If faced with a challenge, he will quietly ponder. If faced with friendship, he will quietly ponder. If faced with anything... He will quietly ponder. Obviously, he's not one for words; Or so it would seem. If he comes to feel that words are needed, he will share his thoughts openly; Mind you, however, he will have to have your name first. He holds the power to manipulate water if it is present, and if not, he can produce his own. Great wisdom flows within him, and so he is said to be a descendent of Athena. Yet, that's what others say. He's not even sure if it is a truth.
Likes: Peace, Quiet, Intelligent Beings
Dislikes: Hatred, Corruption, Fire
Fears: The Loss of His Sanity, and Never Finding A Soul To Love
Hopes: To Find True Love Somewhere Out There
Dreams: To Spread His Wosdom To The Lost and Weary Souls Of The World

appearance: A splashed bay paint of sorts, Oryx would already have been odd-looking enough, without his special features. Ice-blue eyes dot a painted face, bordering the chestnut coat. Blackened quills float upon his nape, and tassles upon his tail bone, mixing with a slight shade of grey here and there. Zebra stripes border the insides of his columns, and above them are spots, like those of a cheetah. Such markings follw his chest to his throat, onto his cheek area, and end at the beginning of his beard. Thick stripes cross the bridge of his muzzle, as well. Stell flints pount the earth benieth feathered hocks, and pinkish endpoints flesh out his nostils, mouth, eyes, and hind end. He holds the shape of an elderly thoroughbred, and it is obvious that he is a runner. Stream-lined and fit, muscles are finely shaped, ready to propel him at whatever speeds are needed.

Family connections: Some say Athena is his Godly-source, and he has questioned it since he was a colt.
History: Alone from a young age, Oryx lost his mother at the age of three months. His mother had been a kind mare, the sort of creature who care for the beauty of the smallest insect more than the most powerful of Gods. In his short time with her, Oryx had learned more than most others his age. Highly intelligent and a quick learner, even on his own, he found ways to survive quite easily and lieniently. Many mares nursed him before he moved on; He never felt quite obligated to make a home of whatever place looked kind. No, he wished to experience the world, and to learn what he could. Aging as any other colt, he suspected nothing unusual with himself. Yet, others did. They saw his odd markings as an indicator of something unique. Many mares commented that he must have the blood of the Gods within him, though he doubted it. He doubted it all until one day, when he found that he could walk on water. He was shocled, least to say, and he soon found himself struggling benieth the surface of the lake he had stumbled upon. Yet, out of nowhere, he found himself lifted above it all, on a pillar of water, which had been created by he himself. He was overwhelmed by it all as he was placed firmly back on shore. From there on, he used his powers to form mists, fogs, drizzles, monsoons; Well, the monsoons never came, nor did the drizzles. He could make it mist, he could shape bodies of water into any object her could think of... Then, as he traveled on in his third year, he found himself alone in a very dry place. A drought had hit, and there was nothing for the few struggling creatures to survive off of.
Fearing for the worst, the exhausted stallion thought of the water he had left behind and, as he dug at the dusty earth, the crevace he had formed suddenly filled with water. Thinking he had found some shallow spring, he gathered those around him to drink. They all thanked him greatly, and he found that many of them were to become dear friends. As he dug again, even deeper, he himself found that he had brought forth some pring, buried deep within the earth. Yet, as he headed off to find others, one of the greatful equines which he ahad summond approached him, telling him to peer at his hooves. There, to his amazement, water flowed freely, leaving tiny steams in the sod. The others proclaimed that he was some unknown God; And yet, he knew by that time that he wasn't fully a God. If he were some Great God, wouldn't he have been known throughout the land for many ages? Wouldn't he have been much older? Of course. He was appreciated, however, int he place that he saved. Those who had recieved such a magnificent beast wished for him to stay, to follow under his lead... And yet, he decided to move off, greatful for their friendship. He was not one to stay anywhere for long.

[watayastaff]

[accepted] Can't wait to see him in action!