Morpheus guardian of dreams Picture

Name: Morpheus (god of dreams in greek mythology, also mentor of Neo in the matrix, means "shaper of dreams")
Gender: Stag
Age: 9
Height: 9.5 hh
Eye Colour: very light yellowish-brown
Coat Colour: Flaxen chestnut with fawn spots
Genetics: ee/AA/ff/fwfw/nrz
Type: Medium-light
Herd: Windborne, Cape splinter

Personality: Tends to act like he's leader of the herd even though he's really not. This does get him in trouble with Tzilan a lot. He gets along with everyone and has never met a fawnling he didn't like. Then again that might be thanks in part to his never leaving the Cape...

History *Morpheus' POV*:
I was born the same way as all the other fawns that have ever been, away from prying eyes. My birth mother left me to the mercy of the wind. He took pity on me and sent you to fetch me. You would always whisper that I was destined for greatness. I learned the art of the winds quickly and soon began getting myself in trouble with the elders because of it. Harmless pranks with harmless outcomes. As I grew older I began voicing my concerns with the dwindling numbers of our herd, Tzilan assured me that all would be well and to this day I believe him. So here I am mother, I will make you proud. I swear to Molach I will make you proud.

Rp tryout:
He could feel the wind whipping around him as he stepped into the swamp.
"Turn back!" it seemed to say, and for a moment he considered the idea. But quickly tossed it aside. He wanted to see it, cement it in his mind, erase the dying scream attached to the place. There was something unusual about the swamp. It was utterly silent, without so much as the humm of a blood sucker to break the silence. If Molach, or anyone else for that matter, was trying to unsettle him they were succeeding. Finally after an eternity of walking he arrived at his destination. It was exactly as it had been left right down to the purple flowers growing next to the nest. He was home.
"Morpheus!" a faint voice whispered. "Morpheus!"
"I am here," he replied cautiously.
"Go home."
"I am home!" he retorted. "My mother made this nest for us as a safe place. Yet all I can remember is her screaming for me to run!"
There was a pause, almost as if the voice was weighing its options, before the voice spoke again.
"There is nothing for you here little one, go home."
He felt a faint nuzzle on his cheek before the wind left him alone with his thoughts and questions.

Speed: 2 (limit of 7)
Stamina: 2
Strength: 3
Experience: 4
+3 starter points

Magic: 11
Herb lore: 0
+11 starter points

Ref: [link]

Tzilan (c) =femalefred
Design and story (c) me
Western isles, Molach, Windborne, and fawnlings (c)
Continue Reading: