. Begin Your Journey .: Wicked Mind You Hold The Hour

Name: Clock

Age: 5

Breed: Mish Mash, as far as she can tell, probably some Arabian.

Gender: Mare

Strength: She’s…strategical. She doesn’t rush in head first without analyzing and thinking things through. Calculated, and seemingly calm on the outside. Relatively quiet on her feet. Prefers to be off in a little group, or a couple paces away from the big gathering. More of a loner, although not quit to the extent of a social outcast.

Weakness: She tends to over think too much sometimes. Her coldness, aloofness makes it hard to connect with those in her herd, so in turn she doesn’t really have any affiliation to anyone. Mostly out for herself, but will be deathly loyal if she feels others deserve it.

Minor Objective: Scout, baby! I don’t like to aim too high =p

Super Objective: to belong. No, not to be simply part of a herd, but to belong. Be a productive, *needed* member of the herd that isn’t just a minion, but close to someone, anyone.

Harem Preference: you pick, Im not too sure on the dynamics and such of everyone yet

Intended Class: espionage

ABOUT YOU:

Name or Alias: Kourt

It was not quite midnight when the sound tickled the inner workings of her ears. The moon, nestling deep into the milky blue blanket, offered little in way of light, preferring to shroud the trees and brambles in a sickly dark glow. Although it was an unknown sound, fear did not course through her veins. Instead only a mild curiosity caused the ears to prick and stand at attention. What was that? It was a scritch, a scratch, but bigger sounding than a squirrel or some otherwise small mammal. A scavenger, no doubt, in search of carcass and spoiled meat to feast upon. Well, it could look all it wanted, but it was doubtful to find anything of substance here. She had seen hide nor hair of anything in the last couple days, save for that of small creatures that would offer nothing towards sustenance for the scavenger. The continued rustling fell onto ears that were already tuned somewhere else, her interest lost just as soon as it had been captured.

It was not until the moon waved goodbye and the sun started its slow climb into the throne that anything worthy of mention came across her path. Pushed deep into the slightly damp and dewy undergrowth were marking that were not her own, but similar enough in shape and size to warrant renewed faith and curiosity. Perhaps she was onto something, or someone. Not that she was an overly…hmm…personable creature to begin with. However the promise of her own species did carry with it the glimmers of hope, and of at least mild companionship. Indeed she was not one to chum around and gossip over tea, but neither was she so comfortable in her own abilities that she risked her scantly flawed hide by venturing out on her own in unknown territory. She liked a group, a herd, a crew well enough, as long as she was allowed to mingle at her own will, and venture off when her mind needed a break from the hustle and bustle of politics and fruitless chatter. So it was with mild apprehension that she skirted through the underbrush, the thorns tickling and nipping at her sides. Unsureness did not cloud her step, although indeed she had no idea what she would find. No… her steps were precise, sure, fluid. The dark liquid eyes were focused casually ahead, the velvet ears flickering nonchalantly as she ventured forth to meet…well…to meet with someone, or something.

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They call me Clock. I’m a mish mash, which really means my dam was a floozy and doesn’t remember who my father is. No matter. It’s been 5 years since I last cared about my so called family. Some say I’m a loner, but I prefer to think that I’m just really picky about who I associate with. I can appear cold and calculated, but I’m loyal to the end for those that I believe are worthy of it. I analyse things non-stop, I like to take my time, which sometimes causes others to be nervous, not knowing what I’m thinking and all that jazz. I like to think that’s part of my charm.