Andal Ferde, D5 [fin]

Andal Ferde

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appearance

I don’t really care much for my appearance. I’m going to get dirty everyday anyway, and even though I bathe maybe three times a week, I’m always smelling like horses and leather. I, personally, don’t care, but it seems to ward other people off. Fine by me, just means I don’t have to talk to people as much. I also tend to have mud or dirt smears on both my pale skin and clothes. Speaking of my skin, it’s pale, as I already mentioned. I never seem to tan – only burn. It sucks, but oh well. I can’t do anything about it. I have a fairly wide forehead and light golden blonde hair that always is in an unkempt fashion, sticking out just about every which way and curling down over my big forehead, covering just a little bit of it. I have deep set eyes that have light amber irises, just a shade or two darker than my hair. There’s a sprinkle of freckles on my cheeks and nose, and my nose sticks out down at the end, a bit bulbous at the tip. I have a small mouth, but that fits me because I don’t talk a lot. I’m no big mouth.

Overall, my body type is gangly. I’m roughly 5’10, so I’m not big, but I have enough muscle to get me through the daily works. My fingernails are usually chipped and have grime underneath them. I have a bad habit of chewing them, especially when I’m nervous. I was born without a ring finger on my left hand, but it doesn’t slow me down. Makes me look weird, but doesn’t stop me. Like everyone else in the family, I have random scars here and there of various sizes and shapes from accidents at the stable. I don’t make any effort to cover them up. The accidents are what have made me who I am, so they deserve to be shown.



personality[/font]


I am a guy of a few, simple words. I tend to be quiet most of the time, both around strangers and my own family. The only way to get me talking is if you start going on about horses. Speaking of horses, they are my absolute favorite animal. I live and breathe horses. I’m always willing to get up before the crack of dawn to groom and feed the horses, start training the young ones, clean the tack, and scoop the stalls. I guess you could say that I put the horses on a pedestal, because I do. I treat them like I treat my own family: with gentleness and kindness. Well, I guess I treat the horses with more gentleness and kindness than my siblings if they get on my nerves. But who doesn’t? The only sibling I can’t ever get mad at is Haff. Haff is older than me, but there’s something wrong with him. No one knows what it is, but it doesn’t bother me. He’s still my brother and I love him. The only time I really and truly lose my temper is when people make fun of him; I absolutely cannot stand that. If I catch anyone, anywhere, talking bad about him or see them picking on him, I won’t hesitate at all to attack them full force. I don’t think that Mom and Dad really see how smart Haff is. They told me that it’s useless to teach him to ride, but I disagree. If Haff’s willing to learn, I’m more than willing to teach him. Since he was given the “lowly” jobs, and since I spend most of my time at the barn anyway, I tend to stay with him. Aside from the horses, I consider Haff to be my best friend; I don’t know if I’m his best friend, but that doesn’t matter.

I don’t care much for girls. I’m not saying I’m gay, no – I just don’t like the idea of being in a relationship. I don’t think I could satisfy any girl either. Just going off my older sister, if all girls are like her, I want to avoid them at all costs. Though, to be honest…. girls scare me. I don’t exactly know why. Maybe it’s the way they bat their eyes a million times at it catches your attention; or how their smile just tears down all your outside barriers; or even how they walk away, swaying ever so slightly and with that strut of theirs. But no, I don’t date. I don’t have crushes on girls. It all distracts from my riding and the horses and Haff, which are all I care about. That’s another thing, too: I’ve heard that girls take you focus away from the important things in life. Well, I’m here to tell you now that I’m not going to let that happen. Sure, I’ll have girls as friends, but nothing more. No girlfriends at all.

Aside from riding and working, I love to read. I’ll usually find a tall, shady tree and climb up into the branches, and just read a good book. Or in one of the stalls. Or on top of the truck. Anywhere quiet, really. I just like to get away from the family drama and lose touch with reality and get deep into a book. My favorites are adventure stories, and they always get me off daydreaming. Maybe someday I can be like those heroes in the stories that ride off into the sunset and save the day. But no – Andal doesn’t do things like that. I can’t save the day. I’m just a farm boy and a stable hand that has a great sense of stage fright.



history[/font]

I was born into this horse world, and I loved it. I took to the horses as soon as I could walk, but I didn’t do any hardcore riding. Just simply sat on them and was led around. Or at least that’s what Mom and Dad tell me when I ask. I have brief recollections of running around the horses and crawling on them whenever they lay down on the ground, grooming just their legs because I wasn’t tall enough to reach any further, and clinging to their legs while they walked sometimes. I was small as a kid, so I could sling all around them, and I did, night and day. I started pretty much living outside with the horses, only coming in the house for food, forced baths, and occasionally sleeping in my own bed when I felt like it. I started sleeping in the stalls with my favorite horses when I was really young; that or snoozing on a haystack.

When I was older, I finally started to understand why Haff was hated. He was simply different, but I didn’t see why it mattered. Some of the people that come to see the shows, who happened to see Haff sauntering around in the back, started talking about him. I overheard them, and that’s when I discovered that I’m not afraid to throw fists around. It actually felt good hitting one of the boys in the jaw, especially since they left soon after and I never saw them again. Served them right.

When I was about 14, I started taking up reading as a hobby. It first started out as little books with simple sentences, but progressively grew up to novels. I quickly discovered that I couldn’t read in the presence of my family, so that’s also when I started sneaking away, either to find a tree or to hide in the stalls. Sometimes, if the horses were grazing, I’d even sit bareback and bridleless on them, just reading and letting the horse graze and travel all they wanted.

When Dad started the horse shows, I was petrified. I tried to avoid being put out in the spotlights, but now I’ve become more used to it. I don’t mind being thrown out into the ring to perform with the horses because now I see it as just me and the horse, showing off the strong bond a horse and a boy can have. Because really, in the end, that’s all I have: a bond with horses and wordless silence.


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