When describing himself, Fable is actually quite humble. In his eyes there is little about himself that is extraordinary or particularly breathtaking. He does not resemble otherworldly galaxies like many of the creatures he had crossed in his travels, nor is his coat a smattering of vibrant, unique colors. Fable is not full of fae-like ethereal beauty, exotic richness, nor is he particularly muscular or brawny. He simply is, and that's enough for him.

No, Fable is quite plain, but Dog would adamantly tell you otherwise with remarkable, heartfelt fervor. If he could, Dog would tell you that Fable's coloring is perfect, that his coat is the same color of the best sticks used for playing fetch or chewing on, and that his companion's long mane and tail are the same color as the comfortable hay that the mutt loves to bed down in. Dog would tell you that Fable's markings are like the clouds in the sky; sparse and speckled, and shapes uniquely their own, but the one that runs up his leg looks like something mixed between a lightning bolt and a tall tree with many branches.

His eyes, though... Well, Dog wouldn't really know what to tell you about them, for Fable's eyes have a tendency to change color depending on the season. In the damp season of Spring, they are the same color of treetops and blooming baby leaves. In the heat of Summer, they are striking like the color of a clear sky or an endless ocean. In the crisp season of Fall, they burn hot like the color of autumn's changing leaves that fall from tree canopies and are fun to run through. And in the blustery season of Winter, they are just as cold as the ice that freezes the land. So, perhaps Dog would know how to explain Fable's eyes, but colors are not the mutt's strong suit and so he would simply say this; Fable's eyes are always warm and full of love.

Even though Dog is fairly sure that Fable is a horse, or at least a type of horse, he does sport a pair of big antlers atop his head like elk or deer. He is a tall horse, but not the tallest horse they have seen, nor is he the shortest. Average, maybe? But Dog doesn't believe that he is an expert on horse heights, since he is a dog and they are horses.

So, no matter what Fable may say about himself, Dog believes that Fable is perfect... And in his mind, that is more than enough.

'I can't say that I remember much about my early youth. I don't remember my parents, any siblings, or the place in which I was actually born. It's hard to mourn for something that you cannot recall, but I do oftentimes find myself wondering where they are and if they are alright. The past is something that I have no control over, so why fret about it?

I was taken in by the gypsy troupe when I was just a spindly, long-legged boy who could barely lope without falling over. The ladies of the camp doted upon me like the mother I couldn't remember, and the males were stern but gentle in their lessons like patient father. The other foals of the troupe became my forgotten siblings, and I spent my formative years splashing and playing by the lake just outside of the camp, rough-housing and wrestling like children are known to do. It was a simple life, a good life, and I was happy... For a time, at least.

As my body grew and changed, my legs becoming sturdier and my antlers growing with the passing of seasons, my heart began to wander. I grew restless in our little troupe, the boundaries of the camp feeling less protective and now more restrictive, like a prison cell. My soul began to yearn for the world outside, to see the vast world around me and experience the adventures of the likes the bards sang and told around the late-night campfires. It was around that time that I met Dog.

The troupe was used to taking in strays. They had taken me in when I was barely old enough to walk, and many others had come after me. It wasn't really too strange that we took in a stray dog as well, but the skinny, mangy yellow mutt quickly became my best friend. He was quirky and goofy and his paws were too big to the point of being comedic, and his ears flopped around in a weird way whenever he ran, but he was the best friend I could ask for. Quirky, eccentric, and a heart of gold, Dog fit in with our troupe in an imperfect, perfect way.

Naturally, when my wanderlust got the best of me, Dog was at my side. We journeyed across the land together, singing, dancing, exploring, fighting when the need arose, and generally making ourselves known as local terrors to anyone who passed... But we each seemed to want the same thing, yet neither one of us knew how to find it. Years passed of traveling and experiencing the world, seeing the good in it, and the evil...

And then?

Well. Then, I met Judah. Gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking Judah, with his amorous grins and saccharine words, with his passionate, fierce, gentle love. Dog and I found a home with him, and then life became a whole new adventure.'

Dog is Fable's best friend. He is a yellow mutt who might be some sort of Labrador cross, but honestly? It's hard to say. Regardless of his too-big of paws, his floppy golden ears, and big, earnest, pleading sad brown eyes to sway you for extra cuddles and pets, Fable loves him dearly. The yellow mutt is Fable's most loyal companion, traveling with him on his ventures since leaving the troupe, and despite having his protective tendencies, the mongrel really is just a ball of fur who loves attention and playing fetch.