I was born in 9th century France. My sheer existence is astonishing. As a young girl I fell ill with an unknown sickness. I was getting worse, and my parents feared my premature death, so my father searched for a cure. He ventured across the lands, until he came across a Witch, in Norway, who gave my father an exiler that would cure me. But, unbeknown to my mother and father, once it was given to me, the witch could have a hand in my appearance.
It did cure me, but I was left with what most call, a deformity. My legs grew short, black fibres, and I gained an extra joint. My feet became hard, grey hooves. All the villagers thought me a sorcerer, and were disgusted by me. My parents cared for me as long as they could, before they decided they couldn't cope with me any longer, and abandoned me. I was only 13. I lived in forests most my life, and discovered I could change into the full body of a horse. My coat is jet black, along with my mane and tail. The same colour as my human hair. My eyes are a glowing red, in either form, like rubies in the sunlight. When matters became dangerous, I shift into my alternate form and flee. This came in handy in the wars that I've lived through.
Later in life, I discovered two more things about myself. I can throw flames from my palms, as a human, or spit them from my eyes and mouth in my other body. Although I have practiced this for many years, I am yet to gain full control over it.
As my rage and anger builds, it kindles my inner fire, and when I can't cope, I explode. In the early 18th century, I had an encounter with a lady in England (you see, I've travelled a lot) she screamed an called me an ugly monster and a nightmare, and I couldn't contain my rage. I destroyed the entire village. It was then that I realised I could pose a threat to others, and banished myself to the forests I'd grown up in.
This brings me to another point. I am immortal. I could live forever without the fear of death hanging above me head. I've always thought of this as a comfort, but I become lonely, sometimes, and it is then a curse.
One day I wish to find my purpose in life, but I will probably never know. But I will search, and never lose hope.
Because I have all the time in the world.