Jesper
On this spring day, Jesper patrols in his given form; a coal black equine of Arabian blood with a white dot on his forehead and, a white band between his fetlock joint and coronet band. The bronze streaks in his mane, and the bronze tips of his ears, shimmer when the meek daystar hits the hairs just right. The terrain remains frozen solid and blanketed in snow. The air is still bitter and dry despite the promising glow of the sun.
This all seems a huge contradiction: Arabian blood and arctic cold. It is true. Typically, during this time of year, Jesper would be in canine form, making use of the dense fur coat that comes with it. That is until Beqanna's fairies blessed him once more. His quest for the Ice Queen earned him another, entirely useful trait. The stallion wakes and finds himself quite comfortable as his body adjusts and adapts to his environment. Whether he needs a thicker pelt to insulate him from the cold, or scales to keep the frigid waters from chilling him to the bone, his body comes prepared - as if it is second nature. Jesper could not be more ecstatic and, so so very grateful.
Today, a pair of strange and, strongly male, musks reaches his olfactory sense. The steed makes a point of altering his course directly towards them. After all, as a permanent fixture of Icicle Isle - even if his new post had not quite sunk in yet - he ought to know who is just passing through, who are intruding and, who are relocating. Truth-be-told, the stench of these strangers made his hackles rise. He did not know what form they arrived in but, Jesper knows his stature as a fox is far less intimidating.
He marches confidently towards them - a pair of dark-hued canines. Tufted lobes poise alertly atop poll while the remainder of his expression bears a calm blankness. There is no need to jump to conclusions; no need to make a fuss over what isn't there. With a soft sigh, the black steed draws to a halt and levels his light blue gaze with the gazes of the other two males. He offers his introduction with a level tone that suggests nothing more than his passive curiosity. "I would be Jesper, keeper of the Isle. Your faces are new to me but, welcome. What brings you this far north?"
This all seems a huge contradiction: Arabian blood and arctic cold. It is true. Typically, during this time of year, Jesper would be in canine form, making use of the dense fur coat that comes with it. That is until Beqanna's fairies blessed him once more. His quest for the Ice Queen earned him another, entirely useful trait. The stallion wakes and finds himself quite comfortable as his body adjusts and adapts to his environment. Whether he needs a thicker pelt to insulate him from the cold, or scales to keep the frigid waters from chilling him to the bone, his body comes prepared - as if it is second nature. Jesper could not be more ecstatic and, so so very grateful.
Today, a pair of strange and, strongly male, musks reaches his olfactory sense. The steed makes a point of altering his course directly towards them. After all, as a permanent fixture of Icicle Isle - even if his new post had not quite sunk in yet - he ought to know who is just passing through, who are intruding and, who are relocating. Truth-be-told, the stench of these strangers made his hackles rise. He did not know what form they arrived in but, Jesper knows his stature as a fox is far less intimidating.
He marches confidently towards them - a pair of dark-hued canines. Tufted lobes poise alertly atop poll while the remainder of his expression bears a calm blankness. There is no need to jump to conclusions; no need to make a fuss over what isn't there. With a soft sigh, the black steed draws to a halt and levels his light blue gaze with the gazes of the other two males. He offers his introduction with a level tone that suggests nothing more than his passive curiosity. "I would be Jesper, keeper of the Isle. Your faces are new to me but, welcome. What brings you this far north?"
jesper
carnage x bethanie
@[Firen] @[Crevan]