.::Eclipsed Depression::.

[hlfjac]

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[atrb=background,http://i1204.photobucket.com/albums/bb404/InfernoLarka/SSTable2.png] You've Sworn Your Soul To Those Who Sail... Name: Eclipsed Depression Age: three Gender: stallion Breed: Quarter Horse And Now Those Sails Are Torn... Height:15.3 hh Color: Smoky Black Markings:two hind stockings and faint zebra stripes It's Time, My Friend, To Say Goodbye... Relationships: Sire-Eclipsed Bullet Dam-Azarath Other-n/a Strengths/Weaknesses: Strengths-fighting, speed over short distances, Weaknesses-sways continuously when standing still History: Eclipsed Depression was raised in the herd of Eclipsed Bullet, his mother, Azarath was mentally unstable and had a hard time caring for the foal. Depression grew up lonely, quiet, and preferring to keep to himself other than interact with the rest of the foals. He was always very thin as Azarath didn’t produce enough milk to keep him healthy. Depression began to mature before the other foals, and as soon as he could fend for himself, left the herd. He felt no desire to start a herd of his own, and for the past year, has only been wandering. He has come across a few mares, but all pass him by because he is anti-social, and depressed. Your Soul Is Yours No More Personality: Eclipsed Depression is well, depressed. He is anti-social and quiet, keeping to himself. He doesn’t want to interact with mares, or other bachelors. Depression is stubborn, also aggressive will not pause to maim a mare or opposing stallion. Depression is also mature, although mysterious and twisted. Likes/Dislikes: Likes-being alone, Dislikes-horses, animals in particular, winter Talent: Fighting Sample Roleplay: Eclipsed Depression It was times like these that he just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. Times like these that he wanted to throw himself of an edge of a cliff, never to surface again. He gave a heavy sigh, one that made his whole bodice shiver. His silvery forelock covered his electric black and gold eyes, although not once did they lift from the stale ground. His bodice moved without the grace it should have, stiff and taught he was. His crown was half lowered; his movements slow and jerky. Slowly, his crown lowered as he stopped, his muzzle tensed around the lush strands of grass, and he tore, ripping the stalks. He let them flow roughly down his throat. He coughed once, before giving another heavy sigh and letting his lids draw closed over his black and gold eyes.

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[[Aziz]]

Read and Verified by [Aziz].