Common

quinn.

Sand clings obnoxiously to the dark feathers of Quinn’s legs, and cakes around his hooves. Waves slide up around him, washing away the sand, only for it to be replaced as he takes a step further inland. The tide is out, and the grass is a long walk away.

Quinn stomps away the stand with distaste as soon as he is off the beach. The air is autumn-cool, heavy with the scents of the season. The coffee-colored stallion wrinkles his nose. He has the same urges as everyone else, of course, but Quinn is very carefully controlled, and he looks down on anyone who gives into temptation simply because it’s that time of year.

With a final shake to rid himself of the itching salt and abominable sand, the stocky stallion moves inland. He does not remember anything about this place. It has been years since Quinn has set hoof on the Islands, and he does not expect to see a familiar face.

Probably for the best.

He settles at the edge of the Commons, blue eyes half-lidded but no less alert for their lazy appearance. His attention is on the mares of this lawless place. Quinn does not have a home, yet, but he aims to get one for himself. In the meantime, he might as well fetch himself some company. The coffee-colored stallion is not particularly social, but he is materialistic. He has little interest in mares who do not belong to him, but he treasures those possessions that are his.

The sun is warm on his dark coat, turning him to a chocolate color, and reflecting brightly off the minimal slashes of white on his face and flanks. He dips his head to snag a bite of grass, thick tail swishing lazily against his hindquarters. Instead of chasing after a prize, Quinn prefers to let his wants come to him.

stallion. spanish mustang mutt. 15.3hh. smoky black overo.