Only as Fast as the Wind - dead entry

ahh damn, didn't win. Nevermind, I'll go for the next pretty boy i see ^^
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*runs at bandwagon hoping to be let on*

Super close to the deadline for this import but I couldn't help myself D: I'm a bit of a roleplay novice but I hope to get better and have some fun

I might pull a Tatty and double-life him into SWS too but only if everyone agrees he'll fit in at Saxony ^^

#Fawnlings

try for #2 here [link]

name: Finn
gender: stag
age: 5 years
DOB: 751st year of the New Age
bauble:
height: 10hh
build: light
colour: Silver Buckskin Roan Fawn
geno: EE/Aa/nCr/nRn/ZZ/fwfw/nrz
bloodlines: starter
herd preference: Glenmore
use: Western Isles

character
Finn is quite skinny and lanky even for a light type and despite being mature he still hasn't grown out of being a total kid. His sire and dam were just two commoners and despite her being supportive of him, he is still considered just a tool by the other young stags. His mother is pretty sickly and Finn is hoping to do her proud before her last days.
Even though he is constantly bombarded with all kinds of bawdy abuse, he is in fact very swift on his feet and quick in his mind - just quiet and timid. His intelligence often gets the better of him by making him handle situations badly, which comes across as condescention or social awkwardness. He does get beaten back very often, but doesn't seem to loose spirit for it which makes him either very determined or a fool. Despite his excellent mind and keen grip on reality, he exceedingly superstitious and does silly things, like licking trees if he sees two crows or spinning in a circle if he drops something, to ward off 'the bad juju'. Once you get used to his quirks he is a cooperative, friendly and competent stag, and is dependable and eager to follow orders to make his life better.
He is training to become a messenger for the Glenmore royalty under the watch of a senior stag, by running errands around the glade to test his stamina, patience, courage and punctuality.

story

The mist of the morning floated everywhere in tendrils, like the tails of the long forgotten dead jumping back into the world. Sunlight barely made it through these low clouds but it battled down and caressed the stag's soft nose.
As the sun reached down more forcibly, he woke to the shards of warm daylight pressed to his pale body, through the thicket he was sleeping in. He could hear birds singing all around him as his ears came out of their night-time stupor. Voices were also floating in the thick air.
He wrestled with his still dazed senses and pushed himself to his feet. Joy washed over him like the sun all over again as he emerged into the glade. He gulped the crisp morning and ...

Hang on, today was the day.

His hind quarters tensed underneath him and he gently pushed back into them in preparation to race the wind. Like a snapping twig, his legs shot out from under him and propelled him forward at great speed. Whizzing around the glade he dashed past his dazed friends.

He flew on the forest wind as he disappeared - tail raised and head high - into the trees.

Finn pranced through the trees with the forest singing at his swift heels, twirling to his own little melody. It was his first day of being a full five years old and he was going to enjoy it as a free stag. The soft light hung over the canopy and burst through in sharp blades, setting his coat ablaze with dazzling wonder from the morning dew falling on his coat.
He huffed deeply for every intake of sweet live-giving breath, loving his new-found vigour after being the black sheep of the group for so long. He was so overjoyed at the new day and new possibility to escape his stigma chains. Today would be great.

"Finn!"

Oh sweet Óganach's holy horns...

"Hey young stag, just because it's your birthday it doesn't mean you can go bounding off like that!"

He halted and skidded against the damp grass and leaf litter. He had hoped she wouldn't wake up this early. Should he go back? A small and rather haggard looking doe was coming up behind him, and his keen ears pivoted wildly. Sighing, he turned on his tiny hooves and returned to the condemning glare of his furious dam.

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Possible double life?

show name: Only as Fast as the Wind
barn name: Finn
gender: stag
breed: Fawnling
build: light
age: 5 years
height: 10hh
colour: Silver Buckskin Roan Fawn
geno: EE/Aa/nCr/nRn/ZZ/fwfw/nrz
disciplines: halter
escutcheon: light grey field with a brown gore
owner: Rory Anwyl
history
sold to Rory a few years ago for a strangely cheap price. Finn apparently wasn't of desirable colour or conformation due to his gangly legs but he's still a delightful yard animal.
personality
His intelligent eyes speak bounds for him, even if he falls out with the other yard animals every so often for being bad at reading their signals. Even so, he's a trustworthy and caring individual with a knack for escapes and generally running about like a fool. As a result, he is pretty hard to lead without getting trodden on or thoroughly sick of the sight of his puppy dog eyes. Honey is a good bribe, but his manners are pretty good apart from being the Houdini of the Fawnling world.

theme songs
She Wolf by David Guetta ft. Sia

"Ink?"

"What?" the snappy voice returned through the door. "Too early, boy."

Rory had timidly knocked at Ink's dorm, and was already regretting it. His best friend was nothing less than a gremlin early in the day but this was kind of important. The tiny ball of morning angry opened the door and glared at Rory who wished he was sinking into the floor.

"The escape artists are at it again..." Rory admitted. He'd seen most of the yard residents zipping around in Valley pasture, and wasn't going to have a hope in hell getting them back on his own.

Ink vanished back inside for a few moments and emerged fully clothed in all her winter gear like a little brown and aqua marshmallow.

"Come on then, go get AT and Radcliffe!"


The trio plus dog trooped out into the chilly spring air and were confronted by the hallmarks of their own Houdini. The leather pulls on the doors weren't even out of place and there was dainty little dents in a number of doors. Finn.

There were still a few sheep hanging around in their barn and their 3 Galloways were still stubbornly in their shed but the majority of the yard was empty. They could all see a cacophony of tracks trailing down to their lowest field. They added to the jumble of footprints and dashed to the Valley gate. There was the rest of their normal flock, the goats, the one odd Jacob's sheep, the alpaca and Darby the rescue deer. And off in the distance was their culprit.

Radcliffe and Ahote had rounded up the sheep and alpaca in very little time, and the goats were being wrestled back towards the yard by Ink.
Only the tricky ones left. Darby was very swift on her feet for a deer with only three legs but was tentatively watching her field pal Faelen the alpaca and was quietly following the woolly herd back. Finn was an entirely different matter. He was cunning and surprisingly level-headed and just to top it off, he had disappeared from view.

A gust of living wind sped past Rory, almost knocking him over. The pale stag was stood in front of him, breathing heavily with a twinkle in his eye. He pranced and danced around him, watching and mocking.

"Hello, my little troublemaker..."

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