// S A N K R O N { angletus stallion

[Songbirdy]

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a hundred days have made me older
since the last time that i saw your pretty face.
a thousand lies have made me colder,
and i don't think i can look at this the same

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( the basics )

name • Sankron Eldingar
age • 9 years
gender • stallion
species • equine
breed • american cream draft x paso fino
sexuality • bisexual (but mostly attracted to females)

dominion • angletus

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( a little deeper )

personality •

[In order to better understand Sankron's personality, it is recommended that you read his History first.]

Since the loss of Meera, Sankron has suffered from chronic depression. He has suicidal thoughts from time to time, but he has yet to actually act on those. He is haunted by Meera's dying squeal and finds it impossible to shake the guilt he feels for letting her drown. He grieves for her constantly and often sees parts of her in those he meets, making it difficult for him to be around said individuals for long.

Desperate to redeem himself for failing Meera, Sankron offers help to others, practically to the point of obsession. He is always willing to do a favor for someone else. If he managed to do enough good deeds, he might at last be able to forgive himself. Or so he tries to tell himself. He also runs obsessively, building up his endurance and strength with the hope of someday saving a life to make up for the one he lost.

Sankron doesn't seek out pity, but he will open up to those he thinks he can trust. It can be difficult for him to become close to others, as he is terrified of going through another loss. He does feel quite lonely, though, and knows he needs someone to help him heal. He managed to hide his sadness with a forced smile on most days, but there are times when the dam bursts and his true emotions come crashing through.

Fed by his grief and self-hatred, Sankron is capable of lashing out with a vicious temper. He's ashamed of it, and it is something he struggles to control. On the occasion that he does lose his temper, he inflicts more emotional wounds than physical, attacking others with cruel words. Perhaps it's a way to blame someone else for once, rather than himself.

Due to the bullying from his early days, Sankron is extremely self-conscious. He is paranoid about others hating him and tries to do everything perfectly as a result. Even his successes are rarely enjoyed, as he can only worry about when he'll make his next mistake. San is critical of himself to the point of analyzing his actions in search of things he's done wrong. He hates himself, yet he does harbor some small hope that he might win the affections of someone again.

For all the turmoil that goes on within Sankron, he's capable of being pleasant company. Proper manners have been drilled into his behavior, and it's rare for him to disrespect others, so long as his temper is in check. Should someone earn his friendship, he will be loyal to the end, doing everything in his power to keep them safe. He refuses to allow another accident like Meera's to occur.

likes •

Sankron finds long walks soothing, as he can appreciate nature and escape his thoughts for a while. He also appreciates solitude, as he's terrified of disappointing others or making mistakes. He finds spring to be a particularly pleasant time of year, and early morning is his favorite time of day. Peace is something he longs for always, and he goes running often.

dislikes •

Sankron is terrified of water, rain, storms, lightning, thunder, and fire, as they remind him of the great flooding and the loss of Meena. He finds mushrooms to be disgusting for some reason. He always dreads the night and going to sleep, as he is plagued by nightmares. He can't stand arguing and tries to avoid fighting at all costs.

weaknesses •

Sankron struggles to deal with his depression, suicidal thoughts, and quick temper. His skills in physical combat are lacking, and he is not at all experienced with romance.

strengths •

With his intense training, Sankron is talented at running and has plenty of stamina. He commits himself to helping others, to the point of obsession.

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( on the outside )

pelt color • medium cream with off-white mane and tail
eye color • deep gold that fades to yellow as it nears his pupils
height • 15.3 hh
weight • 1,200 lbs
markings • socks on all except left hind, which sports a stocking; wide blaze on face; dark brown speckles on back and sides
scars • a bite mark on his chest

general appearance •

Due to his draft horse blood, Sankron is a rather heavyset fellow, but his Paso Fino heritage adds a delicacy to his bones and facial features. He has gained significant muscling due to his rigorous training schedule, which was brought on by certain events in his past. His leg markings, mane, and tail are often stained brown due to his reluctance to remain in water long enough to clean them off. The speckles along his back and sides look as though he has just been lightly rained on. On his left shoulder is a tattoo made of jagged lines that intertwine to form his father's family crest. Sankron attempts to maintain a proud stature to hide his self-hatred and depression from the world, but his emotions can often be read in his eyes.

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( the background )

history •

Sankron's history began on a quaint little farm in rural Oklahoma, where an aging farmer who knew practically nothing about equine breeding or genetics paid to have his draft horse, Truant, sire the foal of a local Paso Fino. The mare, Amalia, birthed Sankron and remained on the farm until her colt had been weaned, at which point she was returned to her owner. Amalia played a small role in Sankron's life, and though he knows she was his mother, he has never truly missed having her in his life.

The farmer, pleased with his new foal, treated Sankron well and left him to his own devices, for the most part. The young colt was often teased by the younger draft horses for his more delicate structure, and so his self-conscious tendencies began at a young age. Truant was considered throughout the farm to be something of a leader, and the unofficial title certainly went to his head. His pride was defended with a vicious intensity, for he would tolerate no criticisms. When it came to defending his own honor, Sankron was on his own.

Truant was far from the fatherly type, but he did pass down a few valuable lessons regarding dignity and chivalry. Sankron wasn't exactly happy with his life on that farm, but he had not nearly reached the point of depression he's at today. When the fog came, San saw it as a blessing. His father, in all his arrogant stubbornness, refused to leave his home. A few of the more loyal equines remained with Truant and their owner, but the rest took hold of their chance for freedom, Sankron among them.

He remained with the pack of horses that he loosely considered his "family" as they left their home for the first time. He received constant jeers about his inability to keep up, and he soon grew sick enough of them to take off on his own. He was not afraid at first, but then the true extent of his loneliness breached his joy of being rid of the others. Regretting his decision to flee, Sankron allowed the thick fog to close in on him and hide him from the world.

The fog seemed to be dissipating, and Sankron began to consider returning to his birthplace. Then the first peal of thunder split the skies and water cascaded from the heavens. Instincts kicking in once more, the stallion knew going home was the opposite of what he should be doing. Purpose renewed, Sankron trekked through the storm, in search of something unknown.

The winds picked up with cruel intensity, nearly driving Sankron to topple over multiple times. The rain continued to fall, soaking the ground and converting it into a sea of puddles. The faint glow of raging fires burned on the horizon. A different noise broke through the chaos of the storm, and Sankron managed to open his eyes just enough to make out two forms that were calling out to him. Altering his course slightly, the stallion made his way to the silhouetted figures.

Shouting to overcome the crackling thunder and drumming rain, Sankron greeted the pair of equines. They introduced themselves as Verinn and Meera, a brother and sister that were searching for safety. Seeing nothing suspicious about them, Sankron agreed to travel alongside them. They fought their way through the storm, somehow all agreeing on which direction they needed to go in.

Over the next several days, Sankron found himself taking a liking to the siblings, Meera in particular. She was a kind soul, still young and untainted by the corruption of the world. Her brother was much quieter but fiercely protective of his younger sister. Though Meera was open and talkative, treating Sankron as though they had known one another for years, Verinn remained rather suspicious of the other stallion.

Had the storm not been such a dangerous enemy, Sankron might have attempted a few romantic advances towards Meera. She was immediately lovable, with her upbeat personality and unspoiled optimism. San was even developing a brotherly sort of affection for Verinn. Of course, with the end of the world so imminent, the three would never become a happy little family.

The water level had been rising steadily, and although Meera maintained enough hope for the three of them, Verinn and Sankron were beginning to panic. The Appalachian mountains loomed in the distance, providing their only hope. Pushing their pace to leave them with constant exhaustion, the group plowed through the knee-deep water, eyes always fixed on the horizon.

As they neared the mountains, it became apparent that their escape to high ground would not be so simple. Lighting tore through the sky before them, igniting a stretch of trees that spread like a fence, barring their path. Driven nearly mad by fear and panic, Verinn searched for a path through the flames and found nothing but burns on his legs and muzzle. Meera cried for her brother to come back, and it took both that and some physical force from Sankron to restore him to his senses.

Now the most rational of the three, Meera led the way along the fire, never loosing hope that there would be a way through. The water rose with relentless steadiness, now brushing their bellies at times. After miles of walking, they came to a narrow gap between the fire and a spur of rock. The heat singed their pelts as they tore through, but they had finally gained access to the safety the mountains might grant them.

As they made their way to the peak of the nearest mountain, the water only seemed to be rising faster. They watched helplessly as the water advanced, and in the end, they had but one choice: swim. None of them had much experience in swimming, but their instincts once more saved them. As the murky water swirled around their hooves, Meera, Verinn, and Sankron plunged into the new ocean. Their legs beat at the water, pulling them slowly in the direction their internal compasses led them.

After two days of swimming, it became clear that Meera's strength was failing. The stallions took turns helping her stay afloat, though she begged them to leave her behind so that they had a better chance of finding land. Naturally, the two refused to leave her to die. It was on their third day of swimming, when Sankron was helping Meera to swim, that she finally lost her battle. Legs refusing to work, she sank below the waves with one final squeal of terror.

Stricken by grief and driven mad once more by panic, Verinn dove beneath the water, desperate to drag his sister back to the surface. When he finally came up for air, Sankron convinced him that it was useless. A deep sense of loss overcoming both of them, the stallion swam for the next two days in stony silence. At long last, they found the last bit of dry land on earth.

They collapsed on the shore, rendered immobile by their fatigue. They remained this way for hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. When Sankron finally found the strength to lift his head, he found that Verinn was already standing, facing the sea with his head held low. Upon seeing the other stallion conscious, Verinn turned on him, face lined with rage. He blamed Sankron viciously for Meera's death, and San became convinced that it was indeed his fault.

The two parted ways after that final encounter, and Sankron has yet to discover what became of Verinn. San has now found a home with the Angletus dominion, though he still struggles with the guilt and grief of losing Meera.

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roleplay post •

[This is a more ic account of what took place in Sankron's history, starting with just before Meera's death.]

The water dragged at San's pelt, pulling him down, always down. His legs were numb with cold and exhaustion, their constant back-and-forth motion now as familiar as breathing. The weight of Meera's neck draped across his back only made swimming more difficult, but the stallion refused to complain. The mare's legs kicked at the water feebly as she did what she could to help propel them along. "Promise me you won't stop," she whispered into his ear.

A pang of fear tore through Sankron as the true meaning of what she had said struck him. Before he could stop her, the weight vanished from his back. As her instincts kicked in, what little strength was left in her legs struggled in vain to keep her head above the surface. Sankron just had time to see the fear flash in her eyes before she loosed a terrified squeal and she slipped under the murky waves. Stunned to silence, San could only watch helplessly.

Verinn, who had been leading, turned back at the sound of his sister's shriek. Ignoring Sankron entirely, Verinn dove beneath the surface. Meera's final words echoed in San's mind, and he realized that this was exactly what she hadn't wanted to happen. Even when her strength had begun to fail yesterday, she had tried to convince them to go on without her. The moment Verinn's head broke the water, Sankron grabbed his mane and began swimming away.

Verinn fought and shouted and swore, but Sankron ignored him. "We... have to... keep going!" he yelled around a mouthful of hair. "It's what she wanted!" As grief began to course through Verinn, he gave up struggling and swam dutifully behind San. The pair maintained a stony silence after that. San tried to think about nothing more than the movements required to keep afloat, but he was tempted to simply allow the grief to wash over him fully, to sink beneath the waves just as Meera had.

But no. He owed her this much. Emotional pain coupled with the stallion's physical fatigue, and it took every ounce of San's self-control to continue swimming. That evening, just as the sun was painting the sea a sickening blood red, the two spotted land. They shared a quick glance, their eyes brimming with both sadness and relief. Their legs moved with a new energy, brought on by the new hope the island gave them.

At long last, their hooves caught on sand, and they dragged themselves to shore, collapsing immediately on the sand. Sankron fell unconscious then, drifting in and out of oblivion throughout the night. The next morning, Sankron awoke to see Verinn gazing out to sea, the grief plain to see on his face. With a deep sigh, San rose, legs shaking beneath him. The memory of what had happened the day before returned to him, threatening to topple him back over.

With a low growl, Verinn turned to face Sankron. "It's all your fault!" The words exploded from the stallion's mouth as tears brimmed in his eyes. "It's your fault she's dead! You could've saved her! You could've let me save her! But you just left her there..." Tears filled Sankron's own eyes, and his head hung low. He didn't even attempt to defend himself, for he know Verinn spoke the truth. It was his fault Meera had died, and nothing he could do now would bring her back.

As guilty as Sankron had already been feeling, hearing Verinn yell like this only made him feel worse. Verinn came closer, so that their muzzles were nearly touching. Hatred filled his eyes, and his grief had become anger. "You are no brother of mine," he spat. This hurt most of all, more than the accusations. Through their travels, Sankon and Verrin had developed a very brotherly bond, and now he was denying such a thing existed now.

Without warning, the other stallion struck, biting Sankron's chest. Blood gathered in the wound, but San was far to numb now to register the pain. Verrin's voice was quieter now, but it still shook with rage. "You have broken one heart and stopped another. Let this remind you of it for the rest of your life." With a final glare, Verinn turned and ambled away, a slight limp apparent in his stride.

Now more alone than he had been since first wandering off into the fog, Sankron collapsed onto the sand again. It held no comfort now and felt far too abrasive on his still-damp skin. His entire body shivered uncontrollably as the guilt and grief became his only companions. This island should have been his savior, but he was already longing to sink into the indifferent ocean.

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( the roleplayer )

name • Songbirdy
age • nearly 16
experience • a few years. i think.
how you found us • Grey's mah friend. =]

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #546881;]i have myself to blame
for the state i'm in today,
and now dying
doesn't seem so cruel

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[GRΣYtheFLAILΣR]

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[style=text-align: center; font-size: 10px; font-family: verdana; color: #8294aa;]( quick note )

Woot, I'm so glad you decided to bring him after all! Super sad history, but I think he'll make an awesome addition, here.<3 Just sign up for all needed claims, and you're good to go!

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