Dírvan

Name: Dírvan
Gender: Female
Species: Horse
Age: Three
Height: 15.2
Body Type: Hotblood
Coat Color/Markings: Sooty Chocolate Palomino Tobiano
Mane/Tail Color: White
Eye Color: Left brown, right cloudy blue
Scars: Extensive scarring over her right eye and cheek.
Physical/Mental Abnormalities: Right eye is blind.

Genetics: ee/aa/Crcr/nSty

Reference

Additional Description: Dírvan has a cream dilution over a liver chestnut base, hence the 'chocolate' designation

Dírvan is a pretty thing, and it would be a mistake to think she doesn't know it. While she's an overall good girl, she couldn't be categorized under the timidly sugary sweet column. She's bold and confident to onlookers, thriving in a crowd and soaking in admiration like a proud cat. She flirts shamelessly, though it's pretty harmless - she's no homewrecker, and she doesn't give herself up to just any interested party. She enjoys the wit, the game, and uses it as a way to weed through the crowd. She may not be a romantic, but she yearns for a kindred spirit, and she subconsciously searches for someone who can really get her. Dírvan often comes off as confrontational, and maybe she is - she has strong beliefs, and she backs them aggressively. Weakness bothers her on a subatomic level, both in those that personify it and those that take advantage of it. She can be harsh on those she thinks let themselves be pushed around, almost to the point of bullying, but that's only out of frustration. And those that pick on the weak ones? She'll go at them like a hellcat, if given the opportunity. She doesn't see herself as a hero, but she's too much of an equalist to put up with it. Overall, though, she's pretty friendly to strangers, even those who set off alarms for her. It's not that she necessarily gives them the benefit of the doubt, but she's at an age where she feels pretty indestructible.

Even despite her injury. It's the blindness and scarring on the right side of her face that is the chink in her armor, the only thing that can make her feel uncertain. Though she's very good at hiding it behind self-confidence, there's always a question at the back of her mind. What if she's good for nothing more than flirting with now? What if she's too ugly to kee[ around for long? What if that's what gets her killed? She likes to think it made her look dashing and dangerous, but she is too vain to not worry. It's ironic that that bothers her much more than the actual loss of sight. She adapted very quickly to it, so it's just another part of her. Like her scars will be as well, someday, if someone can show her that they're beautiful as well.

Dírvan didn't spend her young years in a herd, but that didn't mean she didn't have a family. It was surprisingly domestic in modern times, with happy and devoted parents and an older brother to tease and dote on her in equal measure. It was a beautiful upbringing, and they were very happy with their small existence. As these things happened, her brother Athran eventually left to make his own way in the world, and Dírvan found herself an only child, curious about the great unknown of the world around her. Such wonder could only be contained for so long, and when the girl was nearly two years of age, her parents sent her off with their blessing. It went, quite frankly, very wrong. It was a freak accident that she stumbled upon a bear when she was hardly three months on her own. There hadn't been a chase, because the predator was as unprepared for this as she was, but it lunged at her and managed to sink two sets of claws into the thin skin of her face as she wheeled to flee. It was bloody, and painful, and that single blitz attack took the sight in her right eye forever. In a stroke of luck she was found, staggering and weak, by the scout of a friendly herd. They took her in and nursed her to health, and it wasn't long until she was strong and not too much the worse for wear. She adapted quickly to her new handicap, and she was pretty much left alone by the herd to adjust. They were kind to her, and she appreciated everything they'd done for her, but when she was strong enough she once more went out on her own. For them, she'd always be the weak one they had rescued, and that wasn't a label she could live with. She was more than that, much stronger, and that image was important to her. Now she's seeking a herd to join of her own accord, where she can truly become the independent asset she believes herself to be.