» C A E L A N, pretty soon you won't remember a thing

[Relient]

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name: Caelan (KAY-lynn)
age: four
gender: stallion
blood: Quarter Horse X draft cross
height: 16.3 hands high
appearance: The stallion’s hide is a brilliant golden palomino, his coat glistening brilliantly in the sun. His mane and tail match the same in color, and are long in length and extremely thick and substantial. The only white marking on him is a tiny snip in between his ebony nostrils. His eyes are not a usual shade you see every day. They’re a deep red color, though they have a hint of vibrant dark brown, with flecks of gold around the pupil; more vivacious in saturation than the normal equines’. He has a large head, though it is defined none the less; with a small, tapered black muzzle. He has a thick, well-muscled neck, which slopes down to powerful shoulders and a really broad chest; with a nice, expansive back. His rump and limbs are powerfully built, and are able to move at rapid speeds. Slight feathering adorns his lower limbs, thanks to his draft heritage. He has a massive build, one of pure power and magnificence.


History: Caelan was sired by Modi, a stallion who spawned many offspring; though like any another covetous, heartless male, he took special pride in his sons. He wanted his heirs to bear his name proudly, making him a legend never to be forgotten. The devilish male wanted his children to be the best. In order to achieve that, the elder stallion took his top twelve colts away from their mothers when they were barely weaned. During the day he trained each of them hard, allowing them only to see their mother after dark, and sometimes not even then; and they always were taken away to be ‘educated’ shortly after sunrise. During these routines they were exercised and worked roughly, to the point where occasionally one would actually pass out from exhaustion. When that happened, the colt was never put into training again, and another one took his place; only the strongest survived. The chosen colts were taught how to fight as they built up their muscles, and many other forms of craftiness that Modi knew. Although Caelan’s mother was a low-ranking mare, he was one of Modi’s most prized sons; particularly because of his stature and the potential he showed from an early age.

As soon as he reached the period where he was old enough to be weaned he was sent into this brutal training. It was hard on the young palomino colt, and the torturing memories would forever remain in his head. By the time he had reached a yearling, his muscles were already well-formed and bulging beneath his glossy hide. He was the perfect picture of health and strength at that tender age. But in just a short time Caelan grew to hate his father with a hate that he never thought possible, but he never rebelled or complained. There was severe punishment if one did such a thing, and the growing foal didn’t have the power or size to defeat the elder quite yet. These were not his sons that Modi was instructing, but rather his military of sorts. Every night that he got the opportunity to come home, Caelan always had several new bruises or wounds, but his mother was the exact opposite of his father. She was kind and gentle, always encouraging him and assuring him that this malicious treatment wouldn’t last forever; though there was always sadness in her eyes. The golden colt always wondered why his mother had ended up within the same herd as his vicious father.

But whenever he asked her, her eyes always clouded over and she would refuse to say anything. While Caelan always felt like killing or tearing something to shreds when he was with his father, his mother would always calm him down – at least mostly; to the point where he wasn’t yearning for blood anymore. But the bloodlust and detestation that Modi rooted within his son grew with every passing day, and not even his mother could hold back the hatred he would feel. Several long, excruciating months passed, and Caelan was almost at the age of three. By this time he was the fittest of all the young stallions. Not only was he one of the most muscular, but he also was the smartest and most wise as well. He always thought everything through before he acted; whether it was the words escaping his mouth or a strategic attack in battle. His only real opponent was the lead mare’s son, Dalton. He was almost as tall and muscular in stature as Caelan, and had an extremely arrogant attitude. Because of his competitive nature, the adolescent palomino stallion was always determined to excel and accomplish more than his rival. Ever since the day of their births – which were very close together – the two males always detested one another.

Eventually came the time when Modi was to choose an heir, as he was aging and wasn’t as strong as he once was. Although Caelan was virtually the best choice for an appropriate heir to the throne, his mother wasn’t of a high-ranking status; which only left one suitable stallion left – Dalton. When the golden-haired male heard of this he was utterly outraged. A hate and jealousy that he had never felt before surged through his veins, and he vowed that he would seek his revenge one day; that day came only weeks later. Caelan had left that herd once Dalton was chosen as leader, and now crept into the boundaries unnoticed. The first being he sought vengeance from was lying upon the grass, as Modi had been sleeping a lot more lately. Silently the golden male walked behind hind him, and had said in menacing voice, “Your time has come, Modi.” The elder stallion simply turned his head, undeterred by his threat. Without waiting for a response, the younger had continued. “Too long have you forced unwanted pain upon me; now it is your turn to suffer.” Caelan’s uniquely colored eyes blazed with his vow, and finally Modi understood. “Son,” He had purred gently, “I have taught you all that I know, do I really deserve this?” Towards the end his voice was earnest, pleading for his life.

The young stallion’s eyes only flashed dangerously as he took a threatening step forward. “I am no son of yours.” The words had been harsh as they were spat at the elder. Only a moment later Caelan’s form was in the air as he reared, a blood-curling scream had escaped his ebony muzzle. Knowing his death was near, Modi struggled to get up and out of the way in time, but his aged body didn’t allow him to. The matured colt’s hooves had come crashing down; cracks and crunches could be heard from the others crumpled bones. Once that deed was finished, the palomino continued. He didn’t have to search long to find the one being he detested the most besides his despicable father – Dalton. Caelan had crept up behind as he had the elder stallion, though Dalton had much better hearing. Swiftly he turned on his hindquarters to face his half-brother. For a moment they just glared at each other, and then Dalton finally had spoken. “I know why you have come, brother.” He had sneered, making the golden male snap his jaws in irritation. “I’d rather face death in the face than confess to being related to something as vile as you.” With those words, the palomino lowered his head, preparing for battle; Dalton did the same, a final statement had left his lips. “So be it.”

And the duel had begun. Both males were experienced fighters, though Caelan was larger and was more knowledgeable, which gave him an advantage. Knowing that he couldn’t ultimately defeat his hated sibling, Dalton had fled; having rather preserved his own life and be a coward than fight. The golden brute had snorted angrily, but his brother had escaped. Abhorrence filled every core of his body, and his attention went to the somewhat small herd several yards away. With a piercing battle cry, Caelan charged toward them; killing everyone. Everything his mother had taught him had been forgotten at that moment, blotted out by revulsion and vengeance. It was then that she came towards him – she had been a ways from the herd – horror written all over her features at what her son had done. “Caelan,” she had said gently, trying to calm him, “you don’t know what you’re doing; stop, please!” She begged, tears flowing down her cheeks. Crazed with hatred and revenge, the young stallion only snickered. “You're the ignorant one, you crazy old fool.” With that he had attacked his mother, killing her moments later; that was when his senses returned to him and he realized what he had done.

His beautifully colored eyes had glanced frantically about, horror-stricken at the mass of dead bodies; and his heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of his torn, bleeding, lifeless mother. She had given him everything…what had he done? Giving a last glance around, he dashed away as fast as he could, not caring where he was going. For a long time he had traveled on his own, trying to stay away from others as much as possible. He didn’t trust himself…what if he went out of control like he had? He didn’t want to start a massacre and kill innocent souls once more. But eventually when he reached the age of four, he finally convinced himself that his life was pathetic. So now he sets off on his own, trying to forget his horrific past. Trying to build himself a new, clean life.


Personality: Caelan rules his herd with an iron hand. Meaning that he will not hesitate to dictate punishment and law shall any rule be broken or inappropriate action take place. He is not mean, however; he is just as likely to reward if the situation is needed. The golden brute doesn’t share anything about his past, and likely never will – as he is so ashamed of it. His father rooted a dark side in him (which rarely ever shows), and he has an extremely competitive nature; though he can keep himself in check most of the time, as he has had plenty of practice to control his emotions. His mother had taught him manners, and so he is relatively polite. Unlike his father, Caelan is not greedy and does not wish to have a large herd. That overpowering hate and vengeance still lies within him, though, and only fate knows if it will ever show itself again.

[Rival]

character accepted obviously.