Heartbreak Equine said:

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Wolf

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"Dear haters, I have so much more for you to be mad at. Just be patient."

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Registered Name:

Running With The Wolves

Shortened Name:

Wolf

Nicknames:

Wolfy

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Age:

5 Years Old

Gender:

Stallion

Breed(s):

Mustang 100%

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Trainer:

None

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Appearance:

His silhouette sharp against the burnished horizon. A Red Roan, his coat was a dusky mosaic of white and reddish-brown hairs, giving him a rusted, sun-weathered appearance—as if the desert itself had brushed its sands into the animal’s hide. Beneath the patchwork coat, hints of a darker base color, likely a deep sorrel or chestnut, flickered through the roaning in places where the hair was sparse or worn thin.

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But what made this horse unforgettable weren’t its colors—it was the SCARS.

Jagged lines and old wounds etched stories into its hide. A LONG WHITE SCAR curved across its left shoulder, cutting through the roan fur like lightning across a summer sky. Smaller PUNCTURE-LIKE MARKS on his flanks and neck hinted at run-ins with predators or brutal scraps with other stallions—badges of survival rather than weakness. Along his right side, a A HEALED-OVER GASH, wide and puckered, distorted the pattern of his roan coat, the hair there growing in duller, more silvered. Even his ears bore the signs: the tip of the left one had a chunk missing, clean and sharp, as if bitten off.

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His MANE, a coarse blend of red and white strands, was thick but unkempt, parts of it tangled with burrs and desert wind. The TAIL, long and whip-like, dragged the dust behind it, swishing with a certain irritated defiance.

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His EYES, a deep, burnished amber, held an old kind of fire—not youthful recklessness, but a hardened wisdom, the kind earned from years evading capture, enduring harsh seasons, and carving out life in a world that didn’t make it easy. There was a WARY WILDERNESS in his gaze, the look of something unbroken, untamed. Not even by time.

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His legs were sturdy, calloused from sharp rocks and dry creek beds, the knees rough with faint lumps—likely old injuries that had healed without kindness. Dust caked the fetlocks, and the hooves, dark and slightly chipped, spoke of miles traveled without shoes or rest.

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Personality:

1. Cautious & Guarded

• Wary of Strangers Except Isadora: His first instinct is always to assess and distance itself from anyone or anything unfamiliar. He doesn’t trust easily, not because it’s inherently suspicious, but because trust has been broken too many times. If a human gets too close, he will keep his distance, observing from the corner of his eye, his muscles tense and ready to flee at the slightest sign of danger.

• Quick to Bolt: If approached too suddenly or aggressively, his flight instinct take over. With a quick, instinctive movement, he will launch himself into a sprint. It’s not that he's afraid—it’s more a survival tactic, a reaction honed over years of needing to escape predators and humans alike.

2. Proud & Independent

• Stubbornly Free: He values his freedom above all else, and nothing has shaped his personality more than the need to remain untamed. It is fiercely independent, refusing to be constrained by anything or anyone. If he ever does allow a human near, it’s because he chooses to—not because he's been forced. Any form of captivity, whether literal or figurative, would feel like a direct assault on his spirit.

• Aloof but Not Cold: He's not unfriendly, just unbothered by the presence of others. He doesn’t seek companionship or affection, but if someone takes the time to earn his trust—slowly, gently—he may allow a rare, tentative connection. This is a mustang who doesn’t seek attention but commands respect. There’s a quiet nobility in how he carries himself, almost regal in its distance.

3. Stoic & Silent

• Emotional Reserve: He doesn’t express emotion easily. It’s not that he lacks feeling—it’s that he’s learned to keep his emotions in check. His survival has depended on emotional control. Fear, anger, or even joy are often kept hidden beneath a hardened exterior. He's not quick to show affection, and he doesn’t whinny or nicker like some more social horses. Instead, he communicates in subtle ways—through the flick of his ears, the tension in his muscles, or the focused intensity of his gaze.

• Resilient to Pain: He has learned to bear pain without making a sound. Whether from injury, hunger, or the emotional scars of battle, he's accustomed to suffering. His stoicism is both a strength and a burden—where others might break, he endures. It’s not unfeeling; it simply doesn’t allow himself to break.

4. Protective & Fiercely Loyal (When Earned)

• Selective Loyalty: While he’s not quick to form connections, once a bond is forged, he is loyal to the core. He has witnessed betrayal and loss, so trust is a hard-won gift. But to those who prove worthy—who show respect and patience—he will protect with all his might. He may not follow blindly, but he will stand his ground when he feels someone truly has his back.

• Natural Protector: Is he has a family—a mate or foals—he will fight ferociously to keep them safe. He is not just a lone wanderer; he's deeply connected to his instincts as a leader of his herd, and he takes that role seriously, even if it’s a herd of one.

5. Intelligent & Cunning

• Strategic Thinker: He is no fool. Years of living on the run have sharpened his intellect. He's highly observant, able to read the environment and anticipate the actions of other creatures, whether human or animal. In the wild, he knows when to move, when to hide, and when to confront. His cunning is his secret weapon, and he's able to outmaneuver threats with surprising dexterity.

• Problem-Solver: Whether navigating rough terrain, escaping from danger, or finding food and water in a harsh landscape, he can think on his hooves. He's adaptable and resourceful, a true survivor who’s learned how to turn his surroundings into advantages.

6. Quietly Noble

• Regal Demeanor: Though he may appear scruffy and battle-worn, there’s a sense of quiet grandeur in the his presence. He holds his head high and moves with the confidence of something that knows he belongs to a world bigger than himself—one of freedom and open plains. His stoic nature lends it an aura of untouchable dignity, and he seems almost like a living legend, carrying the weight of untold stories in his eyes.

• A Survivor of the Wild: Everything about the him speaks of untamed beauty, resilience, and independence. He's not broken by his scars or his past—he’s shaped by them, forged into something greater. he is, in his essence, a creature of the wild, untouched by time and bound only by the land he roams.

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Crush:

Open

Mate:

Possibly open.

Offspring:

Has a yearling, two colts and one filly.

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Kin:

Open

Affiliations:

Open

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Other:

Scars

Heartbreak Equine said:

Human:

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Isadora

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Full Birth Name:

Isadora Rose Hemmings

Preferred Name:

"Isadora"

Nicknames:

Open!

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Age:

22 Years Old

D.O.B:

September 13th

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Straight

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Appearance:

A presence that filled the room without needing to speak a word. Her hair was a cascade of golden blonde waves, falling just past her shoulders—sunlight captured in every strand. Though tousled and wind-swept, it framed her face with effortless beauty, the kind that felt both regal and wild. You could tell she didn’t spend hours grooming it; her look was earned, not styled.

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Her eyes were a piercing, ice-clear blue—the kind of blue that seemed to look straight through you, like a frozen lake with something deep and hidden beneath. They didn’t shimmer with innocence; no, they held a sharpness, a cool watchfulness, as if she’d seen too much and trusted too little. But if you caught her in a rare, unguarded moment, there was a warmth hidden there too—like a glacier catching fire at sunset.

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A jagged scar sliced diagonally across her face, starting just above her left brow and cutting downward to her cheek, narrowly missing the corner of her eye. It was neither fresh nor faint—well-healed, but stark against the smooth fairness of her skin. The scar gave her a haunted beauty, a story written in flesh. It didn’t mar her appearance—it defined it. The line was pale pink now, evidence of some long-ago battle, whether with blade or beast or betrayal, no one could say. But it was clear she hadn’t hidden it. She wore it like an emblem, a badge of survival rather than shame.

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Her features were finely sculpted—high cheekbones, a narrow nose, lips that were full but often set in a firm line. There was something about her that suggested nobility, or perhaps once having belonged to something higher before falling—or walking—away from it. She moved like someone used to danger: controlled, efficient, always aware of her surroundings.

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Clad in worn leather and soft, faded fabrics, her outfit was practical but carried a hint of elegance. There was a dagger at her hip—not just for show—and a faint trace of ash or earth beneath her fingernails. This was not a woman of idle comfort. She looked like someone who’d walked through fire, and instead of burning, had turned into steel.

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Personality:

• Resilient – Life has not been kind to her, but she never let it break her. The scar on her face isn’t just skin-deep; it’s symbolic of the countless emotional and psychological wounds she’s endured. She doesn’t wallow. She survives. And more than that—she endures with purpose. Every setback has sharpened her instead of shattering her.

• Guarded – Isadora doesn’t let people in easily. Trust is not something she gives, it’s something you earn. Her eyes always seem to be calculating—quietly observing, silently assessing. This isn’t because she’s cold-hearted. It’s self-preservation. She's been betrayed before—maybe by someone she once loved, maybe by the very system she served—and now she knows better.

• Intensely Loyal (once earned) – For the very few who’ve made it past her walls, she’s unshakably loyal. She’ll bleed for them. Die for them. But she rarely says it aloud—her love and loyalty are actions, not words. She’ll stand watch while you sleep, stitch your wounds in silence, or take a knife for you before you'd ever realize she cared that much.

• Highly Intelligent, Pragmatic Thinker – She’s smart, but not in the showy, bookish way. Hers is a sharp, tactical intelligence—built from years of surviving in dangerous situations. She reads people like maps, picks up on motives in seconds, and always has a Plan B (and probably a C and D too). Idealism died a long time ago—she deals in what works, not what should.

• Emotionally Complex – Beneath the armor, Isadora is a woman with a depth of emotion that surprises people who only see her as tough or stoic. She feels deeply—sometimes too deeply—and this scares her. She keeps those feelings buried, channeling them into action instead. Occasionally, it erupts: a flash of fury, a quiet breakdown when no one is watching, or a rare moment of aching tenderness.

• Haunted, but Not Hopeless – She carries regret like a shadow, especially about whatever happened that gave her the scar. Whether it was a failure, a loss, or something she had to do to survive—she thinks about it more than she lets on. But there's still something inside her that believes in redemption. She doesn't think she deserves peace, but she fights to give it to others.

• Dry Sense of Humor – She’s not the type to burst out laughing, but her wit is razor-sharp. Sarcasm is her second language, and when she’s comfortable with someone, she’ll tease them mercilessly—but affectionately. Her humor is never cruel. It’s the kind that keeps people sane in the worst of situations.

• Independent, but Not Afraid to Lead – She doesn’t seek leadership, but people follow her anyway. Her presence commands attention. She leads by example—quiet strength, decisive action, and unwavering moral clarity, even if her morals don’t fit conventional standards. She doesn't crave power, but she understands responsibility.

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Discipline:

Isadora specalizes in Barrel Racing though she's been known to do Reining as well.

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Crush:

Open.

Significant Other:

Open

Exes:

Open

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Affiliations:

Open.

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Other:

My horse will be in my next post :)