-calling-
Tempest

-blood-
Arabian

-summers-
3

-chromosones-
XX

-hue-
White

-threads-
Pallid

-optics-
Brown

-temperament-
Tempest is different from any other horse. Sometimes, she is frustrated and angry at the world. Other times she is generous and incredibly faithful to her alliance. By no means is she perfect, though she isn't all that homely for a graceful equine. She tends to be stubborn and adamant; once her mind is made up about something, she will not change it and will only rest once it has been succeeded.

Now for the good side of Tempest. Very creative, she can conjure up imaginary pasts, and because of this, her words are refined and often eloquent. Her past was filled with times when no horse would take care of her, and because of that, she needed something to pass the time. She can often be found staring dreamily into the distance, thinking of especially fun games to play. She's like an overgrown foal, though she can be very mature and serious when she wants to be.

Also because of her neglect when she was a simple foal, she is also independent. Though she enjoys the company of others, she can take care of herself and will not hesitate to do so if those that usually do are too busy. And because she's so independent, she is also responsible, for herself and others. She may make a valuable mother one day.

However, while she's independent, creative and faithful to those she respects, she is also arrogant. She feels that because of her past, she is entitled to more than what she is currently recieving. She also prides herself on her beauty, though not as much as a dark would, so she comes off as over-confident in her abilities to defeat any other horse. However, though she is a tad bit, she is actually humble, underneath all of that over-confidence and arrogance.

-past-
Her story begins 3 summers ago, when she was a simple seed in her mother's barrel, waiting to be born. Her mother, Storm, and her father, Hurricane, waited expectantly for their only heir to the throne to be born. Of course, they had already picked names for their heir; if it was a coltine, he would be dubbed Cyclone. If it was a flicka, she would be called Tempest.

As any father would hope, Hurricane hoped for a son to carry on his noble line. If anything, he was vain about his strength that later led to his death when Tempest was two. But that is ahead of the current time. Hurricane, as it seems, did not get his desire, and instead, was landed, as he so disgustedly put it, with a daughter.

The labor was rough on Storm, for it was her first, and she sheltered away in a lone cave, away from the brewing storm. Because of her exhaustion, Storm felt no need to check the cave for signs of predators, and collapsed near the mouth. Hours passed, and the storm nearly abated when the gray flicka slid out of her mother's womb. And for a moment, as Storm licked her heir, there was peace. But, the scent of a newborn animal lured out the mountain lion whose cave was its home. He prowled in the shadows, and because of this, Storm was not suspecting a thing when it pounced.

The only thing that Tempest remembered then was a screech of pure terror, and a flash as red as blood. After that, it was all a blur. Tempest, being fleet-footed and agile, fled the predator, and wound up, quite by accident, at her father's herd.

Hurricane's anger was powerful when he found that Storm had died, and all he had left was Tempest. He ignored his only daughter and refused to lead his herd as the stags left for better places. Soon, his whole herd was made of faes, and one by one they vanished. And a summer later, it was only Tempest and Hurricane. Now that she was older and more refined, Tempest ran from her father to find a new, better land that appreciated her. Her arrogance kicked in now.

For one more summer, she wandered the lands, waiting for a place to stay. And finally, she wound up here, where the lakes and streams ran clear and untainted. And now, she feels that she can finally belong.

-alliance-

Star