"Yeah, yeah- I know. I'm short," Icarus grumbled.

-^v^v^-

Born from two rather normal sized Thoroughbreds, his small frame was a shock to everyone. What was even worse was when his parents learned he'd never grow out of it. Hell, he wasn't going to really grow at all!

He was born with a condition known as achondroplasia. The most common form of dwarfism; affecting the cartilage in the legs resulting in short legs but leaving the majority of the body mostly unaffected. Icarus blends in fairly seamlessly with small ponies. Until you see him move at anything above a trot. His gait isn't elegant and it's clear that his joints are not agreeing with faster movements.

Not really part of his appearance, but Icarus has a mild variation of epilepsy. His seizures usually aren't incredibly serious, and he tends to ignore them and pretend like one didn't just happen. Most commonly he shakes, shutters, flitches, sways, rocks, and or stumbles a few steps. On top of the involuntary movements, he tends to have a stutter for a short period of time after each seizure. They can occur at random, unprovoked. They also tend to appear when he's under a great deal of stress. So far, they don't seem like something he needs to worry much about. Of course, that could change if they get worse or more things begin to trigger them.

Aside from his height, he is a warm seal brown with a caramel-flaxen mane and tail. His hair is usually a touch wild and fuzzy; but surprisingly soft to the touch. His coat short and smooth most of the year; but he does grow in a thicker, fuzzier coat in winter months.

Icarus has a small sock on his left front leg. The blaze on his face is fairly even on the sides. It starts an inch or two from his ears and goes all the way down his upper lip. It doesn't touch his lower lip or either of his eyes.

His hooves are shades of gray. A warmer slate gray for the back two and front right; with a lighter steel gray for the front left. His eyes are the most striking thing about his appearance and he knows it. They're a vibrant sour apple green.

Trait Overview

| + Gentle | + Lovebug | + Inquisitive | + Soft Spoken | + Polite | + Friendly | + Open-Minded | + Intelligent |

| - Overambitious | - Vulnerable | - Distrustful | - Perfectionist | - Diffident | - Cautious |

-^v^v^-

Likes & Dislikes

| + apples | + nature | + cuddles | + exploration | + storytelling | + singing |

| - running | - arrogance | - mushy food | - being underestimated |

-^v^v^-

Icarus is a gentle and cautious soul. He usually keeps to himself, until his curiosity gets the better of him. He's driven by a desire to know and to see the world. He enjoys adventuring and learning. He's a splendid listener. Icarus likes meeting others, even if he's a bit skittish sometimes. Only time he's not nervous is when his nerves put him into hyperdrive; then, he's giddy and asking a million and one questions.

Under normal circumstances he's soft spoken and sweet. When someone is being exceedingly rude, or tells him that he can't do something due to his size, he will raise his voice. Icarus knows some horses just don't deserve kindness. He will always try; but when they continue to be cruel, he will attempt to put them in their place. Not that it's a good idea. Not that it hasn't put him into very bad situations. Not that any of that has ever stopped him.

He's overly ambitious, verging on reckless. He can't stand it when someone insists that he can't do this or that simply because he's small. Maybe he actually can. Maybe he really can't. He has horribly injured himself and nearly gotten himself killed on a few occasions; just trying to prove others wrong about him. To prove that he can, even if he actually can't or really shouldn't be attempting it. He doesn't care. He's sick of others deciding what he can and can't do. He knows his own limits. He won't let anyone else pick his strengths and weaknesses. He'll find them. He'll show them.

For those that can get him talking, it might be hard to get him to stop. He loves telling stories and spinning tales. He's great around foals and anyone who would like to listen. He often gets really into his tall tales and will act out some of the parts; changing his voice to better match that of the character he's created. Icarus enjoys making others smile and laugh. Cheering up others is how he cheers himself up; not that anyone knows that about him.

There's another side to Icarus that is very different. Though, good luck getting to it. He keeps most of his feelings to himself; under lock and key. He can't risk anyone seeing them; finding more weaknesses within him. More things to pick apart. More things to laugh at. More things to use as "proof" that he can't do some of the things that others can. So, he protects and hides the most vulnerable parts of himself at all times. He's afraid to show it; even though he dearly wants to be that close to someone. He wants to trust others, but he just can't.

“Come on, little one,” a light, silky voice cooed to her foal. Icarus picked his head up to look at his mother, blinking her figure into focus. She’d woken him up. She carefully pushed her nose into his flank. “We need to get moving.” The abnormally small colt let out a tiny whinny. His mother nudged her muzzle into his flank once more.

With a bit of difficulty, Icarus got his back hooves underneath him. His mother kept her head low, beside him. He wavered and she stabilized him. “You’ve almost got it, Icarus. Now, the front legs,” she encouraged her son. He whipped his head around to face her. The speed of the movement caused him to topple over despite his mother’s best efforts. He snorted upwards at her in frustration.

Icarus didn’t understand it. Why did he need to stand right now? What did that matter? Why the urgency to do it? Of course, he missed the trembles of fear and stress in his mother’s voice. He’d been spared the sight of his father’s wrath. The fear he’d instilled in her.

-^v^v^-

“How could his have happened?!” a deep, harsh voice growled. An exhausted mare stood in front of him. A pitifully tiny foal lay sound asleep; safely a few feet behind her. She glared at the stallion in front of her.

“There’s nothing wrong with him!” she hissed, tail swishing with irritation. The stallion advanced a step. The mare neighed sharply, stomping a hoof and refusing to yield.

“Have you seen him?! His legs are half the length they should be. You heard the medic! He’s a dwarf!” Dwarf. He spit out the word as if it were a tangible poison on his tongue. The mare snorted in disgust.

“So, what if he’s a little short?!” she countered. “The medic said she’d seen his type of dwarfism before. They’ve all lived very normal and healthy lives. Did you miss that part?” She took an aggressive step forward, her nose a mere inch from touching the stallion’s.

He swiftly turned his head with an open mouth. The mare tossed her head, barely keeping herself from being bitten. She snarled and reared up; keeping her hooves tucked up against her chest. It was a warning, not an attack. He yielded, backing up no more than three steps. She came back down and huffed out an annoyed snort.

She did not recognize the stallion that stood before her. He was her mate, yes; but her mate was warm and protective- not this. Now, he was aggressive and cold. She hasn’t even gotten to rest since giving birth to their child. First, the medic wanted to make sure he was alright. Fine; he was a rather small foal, it was in his best interest to make sure he was okay. Then, her mate has been going on and on about it. He won’t let it go. He just tried to attack her! All she wants to do is rest without fear of something happening to her beloved baby.

He wouldn’t hurt their son, would he? She narrowed her eyes at him. The fact that she even pondered the thought was enough of a red flag for her. “Move,” she snapped through gritted teeth. Her posture stiff, but poised to strike. He knew she wouldn’t roll over. He might have become someone else entirely in the last twelve hours but he still wasn’t completely stupid. He stayed in his place, glaring at her.

“That defect doesn’t deserve to be part of my bloodline,” he stated as if it were a fact. That did it. The mare charged at him, slamming her shoulder into his chest. Caught off guard, he slid on the grass until he could dig his hooves into the dirt. He finally stopped their momentum. She let out a guttural sound as she whipped her head around. Before he could retaliate, her teeth caught the side of his neck.

The stallion reared up in reaction to the sharp pain. Her teeth might be mostly flat, but her bite force could rival that of wolves. He jerked his body to his left, freeing himself from her grasp. His neck was searing as if he’d been burnt. Her slightly jagged canines had clearly caught his skin; leaving thin, bloody lines in their wake. She hoped that they’d scar over. To be an identifying mark for her son later in his life. She couldn’t protect him forever; but she can try to make it easier for him now.

“Get lost, Royal,” the mare growled, tail whipping around her hindquarters impatiently. Royal hissed harshly; both at her words and the painful protests of his neck when he turned his head to face her. She was braced, ready for him to come at her. He gritted his teeth, seething. How dare she?! He could take her down easily. Yet, she dared to challenge him. He loosened his stance, and laughed. It was emotionless and borderline creepy.

“Fine. Have it your way. He won’t survive anyways,” Royal told her, his tone suggested he was bored. He begun to stride past her. “I’ll make sure of it,” he whispered under his breath. She immediately bucked out her back legs. He wasn’t within her range to get kicked, but he picked up his pace to a canter. She spun around, keeping herself between him and her baby. She didn’t dare look away from the stallion that was once her everything. Even long after he’d disappeared from her sights.

-^v^v^-

Once his mother, Delphine, was able to get him going … they never quite stopped. They never stayed in one place for long. They made many friends with nomadic and vagabond horses. Sometimes they travelled together for a while; but they always parted ways at one point or another.

They went years without a single incident. To this day, neither knows whether or not Royal is even still alive. If he’s still hunting them. If he was ever hunting them. If his threat was as empty as his heart. Delphine had her suspicions and refused to risk her son’s life. So, they kept moving.

Now, that Icarus is fully grown, he travels on his own. His mother 'retired' from the lone wolf lifestyle and joined a herd. Icarus has set out alone, exploring the lands and enjoying the sights.