Credit to venomxbaby@DA for Horse
Credit to HOTNStock@DA for Backgrounds
Name: Rowan
Age: 5 year & 2 months
Gender: Male
Herd/ Band:
Main Band
Rank: Second
Desired Rank:
Content.
Appearance:
Rowan is a rather large and muscular stallion, standing at about 17 hands (16.9 hands to be exact). His appearance is rather rugged, seemingly imposing a challenge for any who dared to rival him. However, his looks are by no means dirty. Instead, they make him seem like a “bad boy.” Then again, he pretty much is one.
The bachelor’s fur is a sleek and shiny black, though covered in many scars. The most noticeable being the one across his snout (right above his nose) and the claw marks across his back and left side. His mane is quite long, often covering the majority of his neck and some of his face. His tail is rather long as well, having stopped just above his ankles. Both his mane and tail fade from his shiny black color to a deep and dark rustic red-brown. His back right leg has a white sock that ends just below his ankle.
The stallion’s eyes can be rather stunning - a mild, milk-chocolate brown that blends with his pitch black fur. They often hold a piercing coldness to them that is hard to find in most horses. However, they can be rather warm and inviting when he is in a particularly good mood.
Rowan’s voice is deep and raspy, similar to what humans would imagine a gangster’s voice would sound like. Rowan will even speak with a boston accent, though it is rather light. His tone is almost always neutral, only emotion on rare occasions.
Personality:
Brash || Powerful || Aggressive || Loner || Silent || Temperamental || Playboy
Rowan is a rather brash stallion, never backing down from a fight and never taking no for an answer. He is not the best at taking orders unless he completely agrees with them or respects the horse they came from. However, he will often take orders from the band's lead stallion to ensure his leader's chance at taking over the herd (thus making him the new lead stallion of the band) - though, not without interjecting his opinions and ideas.
The bachelor is not one to be taken lightly. Despite his young age, Rowan is rather strong and can do serious damage to most opponents. His main strategy to win a fight is to pressure the rival to continuously back up until he gets the chance to knock them over, or force them to run.
As mentioned before, this stallion is not one to back down from a fight. In fact, he often seeks them out - wanting to face some sort of challenge. Rowan feels as if he must prove his strength to those around him - whether it is to intimidate them or show his worth is unclear - and picks fights to do exactly this. The stallion will also attack random creatures (mostly horses and grown cougars) when angry, though he never attacks mares, foals, elders, or those in the band - at least without reason.
Despite being part of a band, Rowan has found himself to be more of a loner than a herd horse. He will often break off from the herd during the night hours to spend time with himself. The stallion may even wander off to sleep by his lonesome. However, this can put him at risk for attacks during the night. Then again, he rarely wanders far from the herd due to his responsibilities. He wishes that he could have more time to himself.
Generally described as the “strong silent” type, the black stallion rarely ever speaks, only doing so when necessary. He mostly nods/shakes his head, or flicks his ears and tail to communicate. His voice is only heard by those he trusts and respects, no matter how few there are.
It is easy to rile up this stallion. A simple slip of the tongue is all it takes for him to snap. Though most dare not to. It often ends with the bachelor attacking the offender without warning. If he does not attack, he will make the life of the offender rather difficult.
This bachelor is quite flirtatious with any beautiful mare he meets. He regularly shows off to them, doing his best to impress. However, take his actions with a grain of salt. He most definitely means nothing by his actions. He has found no interest in the mare’s he’s met, no matter how beautiful. He just flirts to get under their skin. Though, Rowan will feel somewhat guilty if he leads a mare to believe that he truly had interest - he can’t stand to see one upset.
Crush:
TBD
Mate:
None
Offspring:
None
Affiliations:
Open
Other:
- While Rowan takes no interest in most mares, he does not mind the prospect of having foals. However, he’s more of a single-mare stallion. He’s not a fan of those males that have multiple mates. Just doesn’t sit right with him.
- Rowan is not very agile, and is better at straightforward chases than twisty ones. He often falls when taking sharp turns while going fast. He also underestimates his opponents, so he will generally “go easy” on them at first.
- Rowan has a great knowledge on how to survive on his own. If he were to be split from any group, it is highly likely that he would make it back to them. Due to this, the stallion is actually quite smart and observant - but only when calm.
- Rowan is quite strong, and can take a good amount of hits. One well placed kick from this stallion can severely injure a cougar. Let’s just hope that he can actually land a hit on the spry beast.
- As you can imagine, Rowan is quite young for a Second. However, he grew tired of the previous Second’s commands, and challenged for his position. You can probably imagine what went down.
Example 1 (More of an Interaction between two of my own characters):
The land is tainted in a pink hue as the sun begins to set. Crickets start to sing their nightly songs as the sun gets lower and lower. A small breeze blows gently through the prairie of the west, caressing the sea of soft, golden-tan grass. Waves form from the breeze, starting small before expanding outward. Prairie dogs scuttle back to their burrows, but do not enter. Rather, they huddle into a group and stare at the horizon.
Bison begin to settle down for the night, calves huddling up to their mothers side while bulls stick to their own. A male coyote slinks through the herd of bison, checking over his shoulder every once in a while. He stops on top of a hill and huffs. Five pups scurry out of the den, and lick their father’s face - tails wagging in glee. The father greets them back before giving them their final meal for the day. Everything was peaceful and quiet and mellow. Just as it should be.
A shrill and pain-filled squeal pierces the air, shattering the peace. The prairie dogs scatter into their burrows, leaving not a trace. The bison perked up - some young ones even jumping. The coyote family freezes - facing the sound - before the father hurriedly shoves his little ones into the den, leaving the remnants of their meal.
Thunderous stomps shook the earth as dirt sprinkled from the roof of any small critter’s home. Prairie dogs huddled together, mothers shielding their young as they moved their heads around to sense the danger. Another thump - this time further away, another ripple of fallen earth. Then again, and again. and again, until they fade off into the distance. The mothers sigh in relief, but remain alert.
Another scream floods the ears of the prairie, this time angry and determined. Hooves send another upsurge of earth onto the under-dwelers as they crash down on the plain’s grass. A stallion, black as night, looks fiercely towards the east - his ears pinned back and his nostrils flaring. His pelt shimmers in the light of the stars and indigo night sky. Determination and anger blazes in his milk-chocolate eyes.
The stallion was covered with scars - his most noticeable a slash across his snout - and more freshly-opened wounds that were bound to join them in a few months. He grits his teeth and rears, whinnying for the continuation of the challenge. His hooves slam down soil, setting off yet another ripple effect for the subterranean critter to face. The muscles in his chest and legs ripple, showing off his true strength.
Another hooved foot steps into view. This one, a chocolate-black laced with dirt from the skirmish, was much skinnier than the brute’s own. It seemed to be much frailer, and shook as its owner took deep, rickety breaths.
An old and lean chocolate stallion stands before the youngster, his own hazel eyes glowing with their own challenge. He strengthens his stance to the best of his abilities. “Enough, Rowan. This battle has gone on long enough. Stand down, and I may allow ya to remain with the band,” his voice - breathless and rough, but strong and affirmative - tries to speak reason.
But Rowan was having none of it. He bellows a war cry and charges at the old stallion. He rears kicking his front legs to land powerful blows on the stallion’s face and chest. His teeth follow suit, snapping at the chocolate’s face in hopes of causing damage.
The weaker stallion follows suit, jumping up to meet black’s blows. His hooves land only on Rowan’s chest, powerful - there were - but his opponent seemed rather unaffected. He was no match for the younger male’s strength.
Rowan continuously forced the older male backwards, going back and forth between rearing to land blows and biting at the male’s face and neck. Rowan stops on top of the hill, where he rears once more to lock the chocolate male in combat - who once again rears to meet his challenge
The two duke it out, one blow after another landing on each other's chest. But the older of the two grew tired. Luck was not on his side.
One strong blow to the chest is all it took for Rowan to knock the stallion over. Yet, he applies more force, causing the male to crumble completely to the ground. The sleek male stomps the ground by the other’s head, before snorting into his face. “Ya’ve lost, Ranger.”
The chocolate male heaves in anguish. The battle had taken much from him, as had time. He was not the stallion he once was, nor would he ever be. He closes his eyes in defeat.
A whimpering cry - ignored by the stallions - sounds from behind them. A coyote, this time a female, sat at the edge of the den. Her cries continued as she dug at the entrance. The den had collapsed during the skirmish.
A footstep sounds from behind them. Rowan turned to its owner, the lead stallion. He puffs out his chest, and bows his head slightly in respect. He silently waits for his approval.
(This first part/example was more writing than roleplaying - despite it being between two of my own horses. Sorry about that, I love scene setting.)
Example 2 (Rowan and Random RP Character + Lead):
The sleek black stallion flicks his tail, his ears pinned back in aggravation. He paws the ground, scraping up dirt, as he snorts bitterly. “Ya. Did. What?” Rowan’s deep, raspy voice bellows across the dusty plains. Normally, the male would refrain from using his voice - but, sometimes, that was the only way to get a point across.
His voice seemed to have caught the attention of the rest of the band. However, no horse seemed to question the situation at the moment - most going back to their previous actions, namely grazing.
Before him stands another stallion - smaller in size - though older than the Second. The black stallion observes as he bows his head and adverts his eyes. He looked to be in shame.
Rowan snorts once more in irritation, awaiting the male’s answer. Though, when it comes, he sneers down at the stallion and slams his hoof down to the side of his head. His tail swishes behind him, signaling his anger. “Ya know the law - the Lead’s wawds (words)- and yet ya broke ‘em!”
A call sounds from behind them, causing the two stallions to take a glance. The lead stallion looks at the two males - specifically the sleek black one - with a questioning glance. Rowan looks between the two before signaling for the mischief to stay. He trots up to his leader and explains the situation.
“What shall ya have me do with ‘im?” Rowan questions, looking at the male in question - still looking as regretful as ever. Oh how he couldn’t wait to knock some sense into that stubborn stallion.
Spring 
Night Weather: 
Flood Moon: 
