As it turns out, having a beak makes it very hard to do... pretty much anything.
As a foal, her lack of lips made it nearly impossible to nurse from her mother, and Rebelle had made a show out of kicking her away one too many times. Eventually, it had forced little Phobia to stray away from her dam at quite an early age - not that Rebelle seemed to mind. So yes, maybe she’s a bit malnourished even in her gangly teenage years, and perhaps her social skills are particularly lacking, but Phobia has found that so far, she enjoys the quiet.
Even now, as a young adult, she finds conversation awkward and unfulfilling; it is hard for her to push the words around her mouth. Her tongue stumbles over them and even when she repeats herself, those around still seem to be confused about what she’s trying to say. Has she ever properly introduced herself to anyone? Probably not - Phobia is not exactly the easiest word for a bird to say. ‘Hello’ is easier, and quite possibly the only word her beak has mastered so far. And so, for the most part, the bird-horse keeps to herself.
One thing that she considers a blessing, though, are her taloned feet. She has used them to gather all manner of foods - small mammals all the way to the most disgusting of berries that left her stomach foul for days. She has discovered that fresh kills do not do much to satiate her, and despite her fearsome appearance, her digestive system is still that of a horse.
In the darkness, scrounging for berries and edible plants is harder than ever, so Phobia finds herself keeping to the same places that she has grown familiar with. It is where someone will find her in the near blackness, sitting like a dog and using one taloned foot to pluck succulent purplish berries from a bush.
So fearsome is she.
As a foal, her lack of lips made it nearly impossible to nurse from her mother, and Rebelle had made a show out of kicking her away one too many times. Eventually, it had forced little Phobia to stray away from her dam at quite an early age - not that Rebelle seemed to mind. So yes, maybe she’s a bit malnourished even in her gangly teenage years, and perhaps her social skills are particularly lacking, but Phobia has found that so far, she enjoys the quiet.
Even now, as a young adult, she finds conversation awkward and unfulfilling; it is hard for her to push the words around her mouth. Her tongue stumbles over them and even when she repeats herself, those around still seem to be confused about what she’s trying to say. Has she ever properly introduced herself to anyone? Probably not - Phobia is not exactly the easiest word for a bird to say. ‘Hello’ is easier, and quite possibly the only word her beak has mastered so far. And so, for the most part, the bird-horse keeps to herself.
One thing that she considers a blessing, though, are her taloned feet. She has used them to gather all manner of foods - small mammals all the way to the most disgusting of berries that left her stomach foul for days. She has discovered that fresh kills do not do much to satiate her, and despite her fearsome appearance, her digestive system is still that of a horse.
In the darkness, scrounging for berries and edible plants is harder than ever, so Phobia finds herself keeping to the same places that she has grown familiar with. It is where someone will find her in the near blackness, sitting like a dog and using one taloned foot to pluck succulent purplish berries from a bush.
So fearsome is she.
