Reference Image: Markings something like this.
Name: Argemmon
Age: 9
Gender: Stallion
Birth Season: Winter

Body Type: Hotblood
Height: 16.3h
Color: Sooty Buckskin Fewspot Appaloosa
Eyes: Brown
Distinguishing Marks: Haphazard patches of color on his face, neck, and chest. Small patches of color at elbows and flanks. Mottled skin. Predominantly black mane; predominantly white tail.
Genetics: Ee/A^Aa/nC^cr/nSty/LpLp/PatnPatn
Overall General Health: Excellent

Personality:

While Argemmon finds departures from Laipawan tradition odd, as an individual he tends to think that folks ought to be able to do as they like, so long as they aren't hurting anyone else. Because of his unique upbringing, he is much more tolerant of mainlander influence on the islands than any of his family generations before him.

While he is absolutely a good-hearted horse, to say that Argemmon is kind is perhaps too much of a simplification: he can be and must be hard, sometimes, and does not hesitate to be so when it's appropriate. Argemmon has crushed bones and shattered dreams, he has pounded bullies into the dust and made a seasoned raider weep for home, but he has never been cruel. While not intentionally harsh, Argo often hurts more sensitive horses' feelings by the simple mantra that honesty is the best policy.

Argo is indefatigably, self-sacrificingly loyal. He would lay down his life without question for his islands and anyone living in harmony with them. In those morbid wee hours when one thinks of how one would best like to die, he envisions a great battle in which his bodily sacrifice leads to a Laipawan victory and the safety and prosperity of his people.

History:

Argemmon is a native islander. His family are islanders all, stretching back generations; his grandparents were proud of their heritage and insisted that no mainlander blood ran in their veins. Their unyielding pride nearly cost Argemmon his life as a newborn, but in the end, it was defeated by love and desperation.

Argo was the last foal conceived by his parents and the last foal birthed by his mother. Her first, some five years before him, resulted in a red bag birth which nearly killed both his mother, Ilia, and the foal, his pitch-black sister Ibika – who survived, marked a true warrior from the moment of that bloody birth. When a young Ibika met, welcomed, loved, and mated a mainlander some years later, her family was horrified. She and her mate were ostracized, and she birthed her first foal in autumn of that year. Ibika’s parents had sworn off any further pregnancies, having been so thoroughly frightened by the catastrophe of Ibika’s birth – but earlier that year, amidst all the drama surrounding Ibika and her mainlander, Ilia discovered that she, too, was pregnant. She carried the foal to term, believing that this was a destined replacement for her heretical daughter who’d strayed from the fold. When her time came that winter, it was red bag again, and this time, Ilia was not so fortunate. Infection took her immediately, before the foal could even stand. The elders would have let the foal die with its mother, convinced now that it was not a replacement for Ibika, but a punishment for Ilia having birthed a blood traitor. Consumed by anguish and guilt, Ibika’s father defied the elders’ counsel and sought out his daughter. Her own foal was a season old, close to weaning age but still nursing – would she not, for the love of blood and honor, nurse her infant brother and save the piece of their mother’s soul that lived within him? And Ibika, with all the grace of the bright hibiscus for which she was named, accepted.

This began a long, arduous healing of the rift between Ibika and her father and grandparents. Over time, her mate, Astor, proved to be such an asset to the islands that he was fully accepted into their culture. Little Argemmon was made very aware of the circumstances of his birth from a young age, and so knew that Ibika and Astor were not his parents, but nevertheless always treated his sister like a mother. Ibika and Astor taught him the value of working towards a goal so large it encompasses the entirety of the herd, and he has never yet been able to shake the peace which comes from doing work towards such ends. In his earliest years, Argo liked best the stories about war which told of daring, cunning fights and noble, gentile purpose: he loved, as all children tend to do, the idea of being a hero to his herd. He wanted more than anything else to protect and to be known as the protector, the one who would always do right, the one who was always just, was always present, always watching. To this end, Argo has spent his life training his body and mind to protect their island home, and he devoted his entire youth to the task. He eventually became a sort of lone wolf — not by choice, not entirely, but because he spent so much time training for duties he hadn't yet assumed. He made friends easily, but he never made time for his friends. Studying island ecology with Astor or sparring with Ibika always came first, resulting in a horse with many loose friends but no close ones.

Now in the prime of his life, Ibika has been pushing him to do something worthwhile and put his many talents to use. What that means for Argemmon’s future, he has no idea.

Notes: Irulan's maternal uncle.

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