Firebolt

Chillwind had just turned to purchase the scroll when he heard the shopkeep ask after Flux's ferret. His eyes flicked this way and that, searching for any sign of the small furry creature. His son Shadowmane had once kept a mink as a pet, but the animal had run away in the night and even Hawkeyes had see no sign of a trail. They were notoriously hard to keep track of. He scanned the floor and the shelves, looking for small trails that a long, tubular body would leave behind in the dust. He carefully stepped out of the way as Flux walked backwards towards him, and kept looking.

HIS BODY IS READY. No, seriously, it's ready for examination.

It's not the money for transport, it's the money for food. He wasn't raised by dragons and therefore sucks at catching his food. Also, location changes made.

I switched the tree location in Canterlot and explained why he never went in for dragonkind.

(OOC: Hey Shadow! Looks like the more isolated convo's over. And while you two are busy buying things...) "But of course." Chillwind said, bowing his head slightly. While the mare went to purchase her books, he turned back to his task, and perused the volumes for anything related to his own ponies' history. While there was nothing directly pertaining to that subject in the historical texts, he did find a scroll that opened into a long Canterlot epic about the nomad pony Clans, written in the romantic style that Rainsong loved so dearly. It appeared that the epic focused mainly on their initial skirmishes with the followers of some sort of creature the writer only named "The PatchWork One", a being of immense magical power with demented ideals and disturbing magic. This would most certainly do as a gift for his Mare. One of his rare but vast smiles crossed his face then, as he thought about her reaction when he presented her with this poem. The day was looking up.

Scaled down to your specifications.

Thunderhead and Thunderpeak had started out trying to keep an eye on their baby sister. Honestly, they had. But right now they were busy talking to two pretty fillies about the time they had thrown a stink bomb right into the middle of a fancy party aboard some Canterlot snob's yacht and gotten away with it, even after being chased by the captain's stallions for a few miles through the clouds. She had noticed their lack of attention, and had slowly begun to edge away from her guardians, knowing that if they could just keep flirting for a few more minutes, she would be free to explore the Fair however she wished. And that suited her mightily. She had to time this just right, though. If she waited too long, her brothers Clouddrum and Shadowmane would be back and they would not let her more than a foot from their side. That was when some clumsy mare tripped and bumped into Thunderhead, who stumbled forward and lifted his wings to balance himself, but managed to headbutt the filly opposite himself and clip his brother in the eye with a stiff flightfeather. Not understanding why his brother was breaking their rule of Wingponyship, which had been agreed upon by both of them for the safety of all they met (truthfully, if either started a prank war against the other, it would end poorly for Equestria), Thunderpeak swore and gave a him a static-charged hoof to the side of the head. An intense argument began before the only uninjured party could explain things, mainly because she was trying to help her concussed friend stay conscious. Rainsquall had no desire to stick around and watch the madness unfold, and even less of one to watch what happened when her other brothers returned to find the twins fighting instead of watching her. She fluttered off into the crowd, flying along at about shoulder height for most stallions. Off to her left, she noticed a mango blur that looked like it had feathers, and, liking both the color and the energy of whoever it might be, hovered after it to investigate.

"Miss Flux, your chances of doing so are high, for he has chosen to travel about on his own, seperate from our people, for the time being. As he has no foals or elderly to slow the beat of his wings, he covers far more ground than we do, and in a bit less time. I would be happen to give him your name and residence when I see him next. I doubt highly that he would put off seeking you out." Chillwind said, nodding as he spoke. He estimated that it would be roughly another week before he saw his eldest again, judging by the amount of time that had already passed since his last visit. Rainsong would be pleased. "Tell me, are you a native of Canterlot? My Mare was born and raised here, a daughter of the Chrysanthemum line. It is possible you may have heard of them, there are few families of pegasi blood among this city's nobility."

Wear a shirt with your name on it in giant block lettering, so they ask why. And then explain that you're making yourself easier to identify.

While it's not a bad name, I'll give you some options along the same lines anyway: Chainlightning, Firelight, Chainfire (I don't know why, this sounded catchy), Brightfire, Firejolt(yes, I know it's like mine), Static Flame, Burning Bright, Blazing Blitz, Burning Blitz (blitz as in the blitzkrieg, or lightning war), and Stormfire/Sturmfeuer, Thunderfire/Donderfeuer. The last two pairs mean the same thing, sturm is German for storm, feuer means fire, and donder means thunder.

You might want to focus on the fetlock area as opposed to the hoof itself...the hooves aren't exactly massageable. /end nitpicking for public amusement.

I have a foal that I think would be fun to watch meet her, and another on the way that I know definitely would. Rainsquall is the finished one, but Clefthoof is still WIP.

Roleplay Type: World of Equestria Name: Clefthoof Sex: Male Age: Foal Species: Pegasus Eye Color: Deep Blue, but they're always hidden by his goggles. Coat Color: Alabaster White Mane/Tail/Markings Color & Style: Alternating Blazing Red and Jet Black stripes. Somewhat lengthy, but smooth with jagged edges. Physique: Average for a foal his age. Cutie Mark: None as yet. Origin/Residence: Clefthoof was born to his nomadic family in a convenient hollow outside Manehattan. As he is still a foal, he generally stays with his Clan as they roam over the untamed portions of Equestria, although he does pressure his parents to make stops in cities where there are rock concerts to be attended. Occupation: Learning from his father, memorizing rock ballads. Motivation: To find his Mark, which he would assume has something to do with becoming the greatest rock vocalist in the history of pony-kind. Likes: Rock, preferably heavy metal or ponyfolk metal, singing about epic and noble things, getting carried away in the moment Dislikes: boring ponies, too much quiet, sore throats, overbearing authority Character Summary: Parents: He was born to Chillwind and Rainsong, his father the Chieftan of a nomadic Clan of ponies, and his mother the former Canterlot high-society belle who left her sedentary life for a harsher yet more beautiful one on the road by her Stallion's side. A foal among twelve other ponies sprung from his parent's line, he still manages to draw a fair amount of attention, if only by sheer volume of noise through his music. He is close to all the members of his family, but harbors a special relationship with his eldest brother, Firebolt, who is often the one to take him to the concerts he enjoys. While their interests differ drastically, they have similar hearts, and have gotten along very well. He also has a soft spot for his youngest sister and his mother, who share his love of noble deeds worthy of song. History: He was born in a valley near Manehattan, and has so far spent his life on the road with his nomad Clan, learning their way of life from his father, and training his body and mind alongside his brothers. The open road might daunt many foals, but for him, it is not only a matter of course, but a way to experience all sorts of music that others only dream of hearing. His fondness for music came to a head recently when he went exploring outside a metal concert held outside Fillydelphia. From some distance away, he heard a vocalist who he will never forget sing, and fell in love with the genre. He went closer to investigate, and found out that the band's name was Iron Clydesdale. He hung with such rapt attention on every word the vocalist sang that the stallion threw him his show goggles, which he has incessantly worn since. Oddly enough, his Cutie Mark has yet to appear, despite his obvious desire to sing, for since that night, his main hobby has been collecting or composing his own vocal parts in rock songs. While his family can find his singing annoying at times, his mother approves the subject matter of the epic ballads he is currently composing. Personality: He has a very vibrant and showy demeanor, and enjoys being the center of attention. He does best when he has an audience, the bigger the better. Rambunctious and spontaneous, he is often a jolt of pure energy to the ponies that he encounters, in many cases dragging them along for the ride when he concocts some sort of new musical stunt in the name of all that is radical. Flaws: Clefthoof has a tendency to rob people of the spotlight, not always out of an inflated sense of self-import, but out of his desire to do something amazing. His singleminded pursuit of music and "awesome" can cause him to shirk work and other duties, and sometimes the arrogance and rebellion of the music he loves bleeds through, inciting an occasional distaste for all authority. His attempts at various music-related derring-do can also end poorly and with trips to the hospital for a patch-up.

The most vengeful I've ever been is to eat someone's cookies. I think my brother's, maybe.

So, I happen to be a rather strange fellow, I think, in comparison to the rest of the people on this site. I don't consider myself a Brony. I mean, I am a fan of the show, and obviously I am here, but I do not think that the term applies to me. I've always considered it more of a definition for those who put more stock in it than I do. I'm simply a fan of the show, along with many others. I'm no more a Brony than I am a Narutard, Bleachjug, Trekkie, or Jedi, to name a few, although to be honest, I can't stand anime anymore. Thus, I have no Brony pride, though when unfair attacks on the fandom are made, I'll happily rise to the occasion, provided I see the need to. Any unjustly attacked group, is, after all, unjustly attacked. So, fellow forumites, what say you? Am I alone? Am I mad? Or am I putting too much thought into general categories of fandom?