MAYLEA - EQUINE [MARE]

[Dyzzie-doll]

Foal
Adult
MAYLEA

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THE 4-1-1[/size]

Full Name: Maylea (my – leah)
Nickname(s): My, Lea
Age: yearling
Gender: filly
Species: Equine
Breed(s): Gypsy Vanner, Shire, Clydesdale, Thoroughbred, Rocky Mountain
Other: Am not certain as to what this is pertaining to.

BODY,[/size][/font]

Coat Color: "Strawberry" Flaxen chocolate frame overo/sabino paint
Eye Color: copper
Height: 13hhs -- 17hhs full grown
Weight: 700 lbs
Markings: frame/sabino markings
Scars, birthmarks, etc: None

MIND,

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Maylea is a unique little girl. She's the youngest out of five children, her mother being her father's lover. Due to these facts, Maylea believes herself to be less than perfect, over looked, and unwanted. She's the fourth child her mother's had, which goes to further her belief that she's merely . . . second rate next to her older sister, and older brothers. She's super shy, and super quiet, and would rather hide in the bushes then be seen by others. Due to the fact that she has never seen another horse looking like her, she also believes she looks abnormal and unwanted. This avoidant personality disorder is made stronger by a constant sense of paranoia. She constantly thinks everyone is talking about her, and doesn't like being around others, feeling like she's constantly being stalked, watched, followed, and preyed upon.--
--likes;; *silence
*being alone
*watching others
*birds
*rain--
--dislikes;; *rejection
*disappointment
*resent
*Being around others--

SOUL.

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Maylea was born the third in a set of triplets, being the smallest and the weakest. Although she was babied a bit to get her health back up, she was constantly picked on by her sister, Persephone, which led to her preferring to be alone. Though her father warned her against it, Maylea was constantly sneaking off, and one day while she was 8 months old, she snuck off to far and managed to get lost. Since then Maylea has been on her own looking around, and trying to see if there's any other proof that she might just belong somewhere. She traveled until one day she was suddenly picked up by some humans. Terrified at the sudden capture - and made worse by the rope around her, she quivered and shook, and was deemed to wild to be broken - and thus, brought here, and once more - furthering her illusion of always being abandoned.

---

(DO THIS PART ONCE)
Your Name: Dyzzie
Joining Password: nylassi
Where did you find us? Grey hog tied me and forced me here! I'm locked in her closet! She won't let me out! HELP!!!!! SHE WON'T LET ME LEAVE~! SHE'S INSANE!
RP Example:

No, no, no. No! It was a mistake. Turn back. Oh my goddess, I need to turn back now. This can't be happening. This was a mistake, I can't do this. I can't do anything right. I'm going to screw up, everyone's going to be staring at me, and laughing at me. I should go away, go very far away - where there is no one. No one to poke at me, laugh at me. I need to go away. . . far away. Safe. Yes! I need safe! Before it's too late! Before they- Her thoughts came to a complete halt as the little yearling's ears flew straight up, her light brown eyes locking onto the bush that was now rattling. Her breath caught in her throat, as she stumbled back, one clumsy, nervous step after another. NO! It's too late! I've been found. I've been discovered! They're going to come, all of them. They're going to laugh at me, scoff at me, hate me . . . They're going to . . . . oh . . . it's a rabbit. Her eyes slowly softened, her tense form beginning to relax as the tiny rabbit's head popped out of the bush, before it looked at her, and wrinkled it's nose. Instantly it seemed to sniff, sneeze, then turn and run away. Even the rabbit hates me!

Maylea dropped her head, her ears falling flat as she stared at the rabbit, watching it hope away through the openings and cracks between the vegetation. Away, far away from here . . . from her. The horror, it was as strong and as painful as a knife being struck through the heart, or any body part really. The rejection, though, there was never anything as painful as that. Never. It was as harsh as anything Maylea could ever imagine. The young, painted filly slowly dropped to her knees, her head folding towards her chest, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, hating how no one seemed to like her, no one ever seemed to like her. They all ran, they always run as far away as possible. They never stayed, they never spoke, they just ran. Why bother, why bother at all with getting to know others, trying to meet them, to see them when they always leave? That was little Maylea's point of view.

Maylea sighed, shaking her head, and stood, although her head was still low. She wiped her tears against her leg, attempting to get rid of them before moving forward slowly. Each step seemed uncertain, hesitant; as if she were afraid someone would come suddenly and snarl at her. To tell her to go away, to prove she wasn't wanted. I'm never wanted. Who'd want an ugly thing like me around? She sighed, as she moved forward, stepping towards the Isles. The truth wasn't visible to her eyes though, the fact Maylea was nothing that she thought she was. In truth, she was very pretty for a yearling, her body that of a dark, dark chocolate color, white frame/sabino markings covering her delicate form. Mix that with her understanding, almost shy light brown gaze, and her frosted, strawberry blonde locks, and she truly was a pretty little girl. But she'd never truly see it. In her eyes, she'll always be less than perfect, unwanted . . . the fifth, and unnoticed child of her father.

She looked away, lowering her gaze as she continued to move, the air changing slightly, the coolness from the water being carried on it. She moved along slowly, the vegetation giving away to white sand, and clear water. She looked around as she slowly emerged from the vegetation, and felt a rush of relief. No one was in sight. She moved slowly, closed her eyes briefly, before taking a deep breath and managing a small smile. Finally, she'd found a place to just . . . be alone, where no one can hurt her. She lowered herself to the ground slowly, her legs folding beneath her, relief flooding her tired muscles as she curled up on the warm sand. Not only a quite, empty place . . . but a place to rest too . . . She couldn't have been more relieved . . .

"Shy honesty"
Whispered secrets

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[Issalyn]

Accepted!