Slïth'creûn
Sunlit Shadows
Gender: Male
Parents/Affinity: Rhyme & Sage
Special Stats: None
Circle: The Phoenix Gate
From: Sionayra
BlackIce
His name is one that suits his gaze. There is a strength in his eyes, an inarguable cold steel that threads through his spine. You simply do not argue with this one; you do not challenge him. He has earned his path to being a stallion and he knows it. He can be as solid and deadly as black ice in the depths of a winter night.
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BlackIce is known as Grandfather of all things by the others. He has a good heart and is highly protective of anyone close to him, but there is a weight to his soul that never leaves. He was never young - abandoned almost at birth, he grew up far too soon. He has a tendancy of using such terms as 'whippersnapper' and 'young'un,' although the others have never learned to really understand how this started. It is a reflection of his mind - he is much older than his body appears. Strange as it is to hear such things from him it feels more natural with the way he thinks.
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As strong as he is from the rough time he's had, he's more than willing to allow others to handle things; as long as he respects them. When he needs he's capable of stepping forward, but co-reliance is a lesson he learned very early. For the most part, BlackIce keeps to himself. There is a certain peace he finds while watching the sun set from his home - probably because he finally has a true home.
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His home suites this solitary, old hermit lifestyle, although there is still plenty of room for visitors - as much as he enjoys his peace and quiet, he does still care for others. He lives in the remains of a ruined mountain chain, the great peaks long since destroyed. Freezing winds, no longer restrained by the aged cliffs, rip across the caverns left behind in the pile of rubble. Grass and short scrubs litter the frozen land, although it's within the tunnel ruins that life really thrives.
Edible moss and mushrooms litter the walls, though icicles hang from every possible surface. Many caverns are lined with glowing lichens, and all of them have at least a hint of the chilled breezes that shred the sunlit world outside. There are underground pools of pure rainwater, filtered through the pressure of boulders they had to trickle through. Some beautiful, alien looking creatures dwell in his underground realm, from colorful lizards to creatures that almost look like furry shrooms.
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He enjoys it there, in the dark and the cold, the wind always toying with his two-toned tail. The wispy markings on his legs blend with the florescent plants and creatures, his deep blue coat fading into the darkness that clings to the corners to render him all but invisible. The biggest give away is his eyes - The brighter flashes of his hooves and hair could be easily passed off, but his eyes burn with a fierce age that is simply impossible to overlook.
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His favorite thing to do is to settle at the mouth of one of these caverns at dusk, watching the stars rise as the night creatures peek out from their own holes and bush-homes. The winds are batteringly powerful as the stones snag them into the remains of the mountains, though he knows how to stand perfectly still all the same. Here, he can sit upon his own doorstep and simply look at his home, perhaps watching a few of those unique lizards dashing under a bush whenever a sky predator passes over-head. He is all but alone with age, yet our Whippersnapper has no regrets. His love for home and safety, and his desire to help others avoid his hardships on the path to finding them make his heart much too young to be considered 'gramps,' for it keeps the spark fresh in his eyes.
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BlackIce was forced to grow up; not defeated. Each day he keeps watch over his land and the ones that visit or share in it, and he relishes in that simple fact. He is a hard stallion, but a good soul. He protected those he cared for as best as he could; now he can finally claim some safety as well.
