At a fragile weight and unimpressive height, the rag doll walks with a low head and crushed spirits. Her pale, ghost-like hide is covered in small scars that pucker the once more fused skin, each less note-worthy than the next - with the exception of the long lash mark along her dainty face. Carrying the proof of the burden she was to her adoptive mother and aunt, the fae wears a pink scar from above her right nostril to nearly two inches below her right eye. Crystalline blue eyes glint and shine with hope that one day she will flourish into the beautiful flower that she has buried deep beneath her soul. A short back and slender legs all connect together by a broadened chest that holds a long neck and dainty, Arabian-dished face. Darkness crawls up the female's legs, fading out just above all four knees and returning in a solid dorsal stripe along her back; the stripe tapers down both sides of her withers in a long bar that reaches all the way to her shoulder before stopping. A velvet-soft maw is also tainted black in color, as well as a faint outlining of her eyes. Narrow antlers sit atop the broken's skull, never shedding from their place and having stopped growing as each reached five points (not including an eye guard on each). They are a dark brown color, rubbed down to a dull yellow between the tines. Finally, draped heavily over both neck and backside are thick locks of onyx; her mane is lengthy, reaching her small shoulders at the longest point and hanging in a messy fashion over bright eyes. The doll's tail is thick as well, but of average length, hanging just above the ground when she stands; baby blue streaks run through the fae's tail, being at their longest point at the back side of her tail and tapering to only a few inches long as the hair grows closer to black legs.

Wrapped around the doll's right antler is a thin-chained, pure silver pendulum; the pendulum holds a softly blue colored diamond in the center that is cut into an octagon. The chain is knotted and twisted around her eye guard, the thin silver plate being held on by slightly larger hoops in the chain. Dulled and obviously aged, the silver has worn down from sharp edges of a perfect circle into a rather rounded one. Where there was once inscriptions carved into the silver there are only soft indents left of long forgotten words. There is no magic held within the necklace, only the myth of a forgotten mother's love.

A gentle soul is an easy one to manipulate, and is extremely willing to do whatever it takes to gain the love of another; this is why it was so hard for the young girl to finally break when she reached far past the point of snapping. The rag doll finds beauty in even the most drab, dull characters and scenes, often times wanting to wander off and find something new about the world she knows so little about. Being scolded, beaten, pushed around and screamed at her entire life, the brutt knows nothing more than to be treated as such. In her mind, she is a mistake - something that happened out of spite and dishonor - and must be kept down until the end of her days. Despite these harsh beatings and endless mind games, the mare is still as loyal and noble as ever, willing to go to the end of the world for the ones she loves and (believes) she owes her life to. Trusting this young mare is, and dumb for being that way as well. Her brain-washed mind will truly find this doll in terrifying situations.

Often times the fae will find herself silent and feeling hollow as depression tightens it's cold grip around her throat. These attacks of darkness can almost completely change her outlook on life; she will begin to find that there is no hope, no truth, no meaning to her world, leaving the brutt to contemplate death of not only herself, but many others as well. Why allow the scum of the earth to continue walking without answering the call of justice? A sinister form begins to develop within her body, and even though she wants so badly to inflict the pain that she had endured her entire childhood on someone else, she can't ever find the strength. Coming out of these violent acts will cause the girl to sink into anxiety attacks and nights full of crying.

The brutt's history begins before she is even an idea in the minds of her seductive mother and careful, sneaky father:

At a young age, Ēostre steals Leif's heart, the young couple being swept off of their feet and falling into immediate puppy love. They talk of starting a family within the herd, raising numerous children and devoting their lives to each other; that is until the love-struck stallion meets the promiscuous sister of the love of his life, Jorunn. Eager to destroy her sister's new life, Jorunn wedges herself into the suddenly empty schedule of awe-struck Leif. Without a clue, Ēostre lives happily along her cheating spouse for months, her fairytale world of happily-ever-after keeping her well distracted. The devoted mare finds that her lover seems distraught and very unlike himself, so she goes to her sister in look of help. Jorunn refuses to tell her naive sister what she has been doing in fear of not being successful in her plot; unsure and confused, young Ēostre returns to Leif later that day with the same questions on her mind. That same night, Jorunn tries her hardest to make Leif stay with her, but he refuses, scared that Ēostre is figuring out what is going on. It takes a couple of weeks on Jorunn's end of constant arguments and threats of speaking up for the lust-confused stallion to finally return to her. Each night Leif leaves Ēostre's side while she sleeps, going to Jorunn to find a romantic night full of whispers and secrets. The love triangle is soon shattered into a million pieces when Ēostre tells her sister that she believes she is pregnant, and Jorunn responds with something that the young mare never expected: "I am as well, don't you think Leif will be a good father to our children?" Hurt, shocked, and confused, the mare sulks for days, not saying a word to the stallion she thought was truly her own. Growing worried and suspicious, Leif seeks out Jorunn, who later tells him that she too carries his child and telling him about her ongoing plan; but the plan had collapsed long ago, and the frisky mare had fallen in love with the cheating stallion. Jorunn begs her sister's mate to stay with her, pleading and even threatening to put her life on the line just to keep Leif to herself.. Leif refuses, leaving the sobbing mare and returning to his mate.
Something short of a year passes slowly, Leif and Ēostre having not seen Jorunn all the while. Their relationship has become something to be feared as a hormonal Ēostre feeds off of the pleading and begging of Leif's lost trust. She begins to find a comfort in being powerful over the weak-kneed stallion, lusting after the idea of having a dominance that she had never known before. The birth of beautiful Arvakl finally arrives, the tiny dual-horned filly melting the hearts of all of those around.. all of those except for her mother. Ēostre tends to the foal with love and nurture just as any mare would, keeping a close eye on her baby as she grows and begin to explore her surroundings, but something about not having the opportunity to hold something over Leif's head any longer stiffens the mare's soul. Out of the blue and extremely unwelcome, Jorunn comes crawling into the herd's boundaries, very thin and drained of her life that she had once held; the mare's belly is swollen and appears to be massive on her scrawny body. "Please Ēostre, you must help me." she begs, her eyes drained of life. The sister respond coldly, threatening to end Jorunn's life if she does not move on, and refusing to take the soon-to-be foal under her wing. Defenseless and dying, Jorunn leaves quietly, finding shelter in what was once her and Leif's romantic grove. The foal is born the next day, healthy and very much alive having sucked all of her mother's nutrients from her body, but Jorunn isn't as lucky. The malnourished mare fades out of this world hours after her child's birth, leaving the filly shaking and hungry. Dry teets provide no food for the foal, and a dead body radiates no heat in the long night; the foal was left to fend for herself in the first day of her life. Leif, nervous for the weak mare's well being, finds the two day old still bundled up beside her bony dam.
"We have to take her in, she is my child!" "She is not your child! She is her spawn, and it deserves to die just like she did!" The weakening filly was curled up in the grass once more, but now taken away deep into a rolling field surrounded by shrubs and trees full of needles. Leif and Ēostre screamed back and forth for what felt like hours to the newborn, leaving her to feel guilty and confused. What little milk the filly had gotten out of her mother was not enough to keep her running for much longer, and she was also fading out of this world very slowly. Finally, Ēostre agrees to keep the child alive, but she is very disgruntle about even the idea. "We'll take care of you Adelis." Leif breathed on her dark face, nuzzling her softly. Finally, the foal has a name to go with a face.
The fillies grow together, each treated with the utmost care and love by their father, and Arvakl receiving just as much attention from her mother. Adelis -who is turning out to be much smaller and more frail than her sister- is not treated alike by the judgmental mare; small issues like being too rough with her sister or eating more than Arvakl had often result in hard shoves and painful bites by an irritated Ēostre. Before she is even a yearling, the narrow-bodied filly is covered in small scars from her ears all the way down to her ankles. Often times she would find herself with rough scabs covering her knees and forelegs after a hard day of being in Ēostre's way more than usual. Silent and obedient, the crystal-eyed filly takes the punishments without a squeak, knowing that each painful strike has been deserved in one way or another. The months drag on, Arvakl staying unscathed and enjoying her life; often times she would disappear into the woods where Adelis would believe that her sister was playing with other children. Wonderment stormed in the young one's mind, clear eyes always watching her older sibling, trying to soak in everything exciting and strange that she would tell her mother and father of once she had returned from her short adventures.
Left alone one day while Ēostre and Arvakl were together, Leif takes his scrawny daughter to the same grove that he had found her in, telling her stories of her mother who he explained was her "aunt," hoping to keep the young mare's confusing history blank from her mind. He talked of a winged stallion who would disappear into the clouds for days on end, fibbing that the white-winged stranger would sleep in the fluffy beds high above the earth each night. Starry-eyed and completely divulged in his stories, Adelis prayed that one day she would grow wings so that she could also disappear into the clouds; anywhere that her mother couldn't reach her.
Rebellion shattered the family one day at a time and Adelis watched her sister and mother become more and more distant as the days went on. On certain days that the bickering fights would become more physical, Ēostre would save the punishments for Adelis, beating her close to death numerous times. By the age of two and a half, the filly had experiences many broken bones and painful splits in her hide. The day finally came when Arvakl had enough of her mother's iron fist and the threats of leaving actually came true; she stormed away in anger, Leif calling after his first born with a weak, shaky voice. Ēostre -traumatized that her own daughter would leave, turned on Adelis. Shaking and holding a deep breath, the freshly turned three year old took blow by blow, losing her breath after the fourth or fifth painful hit in the ribs. Leif, finally fed up with watching the destruction of his daughter, began screaming at Ēostre. Her body swung back onto back haunches, silvery hooves wielding in the air violently, her scratchy voice breaking due to the extreme volume ringing in Adelis' pinned ears. Everything blurred into slow motion as the broad mare came back down to the earth, a heavy hoof slamming into the pale bodied mare's face; Adelis was knocked out, her face split open and blood pooling beneath her head quickly.
Leif's face was the first thing for her to see when she was back into consciousness, three of them in fact, all blurring in and out of view before all molding into one solid face. Wet eyes stared down at the yellowed mare, nostrils fluttering quickly. As she lifted her face, the mare could feel something tap against the forked prong of her antler. "It was your mother's." He said in a rushed breath, begging her to stand up. Still extremely dazed and lost, the mare slowly climbed to her feet, spotting a solid lump of what looked to be her abusive mother sprawled out on the ground. "You need to go, now!" Without a word, the young girl turned on her heels, disappearing into the forests that she was so foreign to.


Lineage:
Leif: Sire of Morgan decent; antlered unicorn
Jorunn: Dam of Arabian decent; dual-horned (classic horns) unicorn

Ēostre: Aunt/Step-dam of Arabian decent; horned (classic horn) and winged hybrid

Arvakl: First cousin/half sister of Morab decent; sired by Leif, born by Ēostre; antlered and winged hybrid