miss karenza.

[DANGGY.<3]

Name;; Karenza
Breed;; Thoroughbred
Pelt Color;; Black
Markings;; Bald facial
Age;; six
Gender;; Mare
Alliance;; Neutral
Personality;;
Karen is a very deceiving mare. She can bat her lovely lashes at you and manipulate you in everyway possible. Her grip on sanity is unyielding, though she can be found doing the most despicable things. However, she can also be the sweetest; most caring mare around. In light of being Neutral, she totters along the edge of light and dark. She is not in the slightest unstable, but giggles upon the sight of blood or pain. She enjoys watching others scream because of a rather sadistic part of her. Bipolar describes this conceited mare quite perfectly, seeing as she can transform from a malicious witch to the most nurturing mare around.

She has a snake like tongue that spits words of venom, no matter the case. The lyrics she utters can be musically pleasing with her soft voice, and her giggle can soothe even those bleeding near death. Karenza flirts rather tremendously, but due to past experiences, would not be caught dead in the clutches of a stud who was not her mate, friend, or atleast acquaintince. She doesn't waste her body quite so easily.

History;;
Karenza grew up with a history that made a rather great impact upon her current personality. She was born to a dark herd, dam a mere harem member and father the lead stallion. Her mother was more or less her idle, however, the feeling wasn't entirely mutual. Murder more or less so despised her daughter, thus making Karenza a rather hard shell as she developed through life. Her childhood friend, Klassen, stood by her side, though. Klassen and she were virtually insperateable, until Klassen's half brother Riche came into the picture. Around two years of age, Riche forcebred Karen and left with a rather triumphant walk. Deimos, seeking revenge upon Riche's bloodline, murdered Klassen in cold blood. Karenza mourned her friend without much dedication, more or less alterered through personality than she was pain.

The birth of her son, Thesan, did not enlighten her newly cruel persona. Instead, it merely made her seek the death of her mother. She left the herd to nurse Thesan until he was of three years of age. Thesan was dedicated to his mother in a way few could understand, even if she acted the part of a senseless witch in his prescence. She returned to her birth herd, encountering Riche for the second time; with him as the newly conquering leader of her childhood herd. Riche attacked Karenza, not with a subject of rape, merely because she was the previous leader's daughter. Thesan leaped to his mother's aid, both son and father unknowing of thei relations. Karenza did not mention to Riche the relations until Thesan lay dead at the hooves of his father.



Picture;; Pending. (:

Roleplay Sample;;


In the hills, vacant of life and inhabitants, rain began to thunder down the range. Precipitation fell with a steady beat, pounding against grass and dirt alike. Hooves shuffled to add their own rhythm to an unsteady sound, furthering the drum-like audio.
Karenza's black canvas was mirrored by a waltzing shadow by her side, mimicking her every move or step. The wench was hardly devilish, though not quite radiating terms of angelic. More so in between the two motives. Fae raised her cranium skyward, mentally blaspheming whatever gods rested in the heaven's, pouring such a cold liquid upon their backs. She shook her neck, tendrils of black mane flying outward; releasing the drops of moisture from their stringy figure.

Her eyes sought through the opaque rain, thunder echoing her footsteps and lightning throwing moonbeams across her ebony pelt. Dark orbs sought for any sort of interest, be it the company of another equine or something else that tickled her fancy. Karenza's interest was hardly piqued by any sight that beheld her. What was there to observe that would actually produce some sort of intriguing stare? Thus far, nothing. She didn't exactly ponder and thoughts concerning who else could be so damned to be stuck in such pourings, with waters tipping from the heaven's to spill upon their waltzing backs. She halted her long, luxurious strides for a moment. Savoring the wet, cold moisture held upon her black flesh, spilling down her barrel.

Her cranium swerved about, auds flickering to listen to anything but the crying sky. She was given nothing, a frown creasing her lovely face as she continued her elevated trot. As she moved, the grass suddenly seemed rather short and timid, as though frightened of the fae that carried above them. Or perhaps wishing to not be treaded upon by the weight of any. Though the land could be considered lovely to most, no character nor charm evoked any sort of appreciation or affection from the fae. Her world was far too grey to ponder such things. Karen was not one to dote upon things that required pity, be it from herself or others. Thus, sympathy wasn't an alternative either. Remorse, perhaps, if she hadn't goaded her mother through childhood to be quite the wench, she would still have the ever-pleasing sense of motherhood, with her beloved colt in tow.

In the dark of the storm, though the sun did peek through it's hide-away occasionally, shadows seemed to wander about her, stalking up her spine in their meandering prowl. She did not shift away from them fearfully, nor did she embrace them. The same motives were placed toward the lightness of the sun. What a joy it was to be neutral, neither light nor dark. The two did not compliment each other like fire and ice, instead, they butted heads. A constant battle intended to deceive their owner into their nature.

Karenza simpered at these childish thoughts, animating the two sides of which she was mixed with her own wondering. This land was rather lovely, though. If it's beauty was only skin deep, and it instead inhabited the lest-liked creatures, she would be rather similar to it. Her pelt was lovely, quite pleasant on the eyes, but her personality argued another tale; for it wasn't quite beautiful either. She dismissed those thoughts, far too shallow and a narcissist to compare herself to a pile of dirt and grass. She flicked out of her momentary daze, straightening her ebony throat to look down upon the hill in which she perched. At the base of the hill stood a mare, one whose labium's parted to release cries of calling. Retreating into the shadows was another mare, cantering at a quick pace to flee.

Karenza descended, elevated strides ending as she neared the base of the hilly terrain. Grass here itched her ankles, though it's green flesh seemed to flaunt a rather tasty flavor. She stepped in front of the mare, her dark gaze honing in on the opposites. She cocked her head rather curiously, yet managed a mature, sophisticated look. "Hello," she said distantly, the ghost of a smile upon her lovely face. "Who might you be?" Her voice indicated otherwise. She truly did not care who this mare was, for she was sure they'd never meet again. Should they, she could always request an address a second time.

Karenza eyed the femme up and down, not quite in the stud fashion. Steed's whose gaze lingered in the most private places, invading a mare with their brutish fantasies. She forced herself to stifle a snort, still letting her dark orbs to not eye this fae like a piece of meat for sale. That would've made her much like any sort of stallion to wonder.

That was her ever-living prejudice of stallions, of course. A pulsing, living hatred that rang of passion. Her despise was hardly likely to falter unless she truly encountered a stud with an amiable persona and motives alike. But as she so often did, she dismissed that possibility. Reminding herself with a rather peculiar annoyance that they all were like that, simply too caught up in their own desires to strike pity or sympathy upon their victims. However, she wouldn't allow herself to be so vulnerable in any case with a stallion. Instead, more so dark and morbid with her threats upon their life. Verbally or physically, Karen intended to fight back against any sort of stud. Pledging so even if they were the kindest of brutes.

Their excuses for treating mares so brutally was the need to populate their herds, a petty desire that was so common in those studs. One she did not see as amiable in the least sort. Let alone chivalrous, even if their personalities said differently.
Forcing her thoughts away, she continued to wonder about the mare before her. Did she have a herd? No, that was unlikely. What would a claimed mare be doing out here, alone? Though it was not in the slightest the mares fault, Karen felt that tiny, hardly-noticeable sliver of trust made upon acquaintance breached, what if this mare was accompanied by a stallion? Having cried out a calling as mere bait to lure other fae's. Her caution was overrated, Karen knew, but her wary nature kept her far too fond of the past.






Did any Dawn member bring you here?;; Nope.
Returning member;; No

[Vita]

Accepted. So glad to have you and awesome post!