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Artist | Student | Varied

Hello everybody/pony/mony/antimony and welcome to my page!

ArsFatalis was born in a huge country in Eastern Europe. This country, despite being rich with wonderful nature and historical sights, has been unfortunate throughout it's whole long history. That fact and a few other factors have strongly affected the whole life of Fatalis.

Since she can ever remember herself in this vale of sorrow, Fatalis was always busy with drawing. She drew everything she saw around herself and in her bright and happy head, dashingly learning, and the others admired her talent (whatever they call talent). She was called a wunderkind and a prodigy through her childhood, full of incredible discoveries and adventures.

Fatalis has always been in a struggle with the outer world and the society. Being very intelligent and gentle for her age, she was teased and bullied in kindergarten, and then in school. Being unable to do any harm to the others, she became an easy target for all the contempt, envy and blind hatred her society could hold. Who knows what would happen with her during her uneasy transition to adulthood if she didn't keep an everlasting, evergrowing and neverfading passion in her heart - a passion of an artist.

She drew, she drew and she drew. Her creations and a developed headworld amused everybody who had a chance to meet her, and that made Fatalis quite a notable person in her narrow range of family members and friends. Now, Fatalis is an aspiring artist and writer. She is mainly focused on graphic design and illustration, but any kind of medium and themes is subservient to her talent (again, whatever they call talent), which she will never stop developing.

Fatalis doesn't like expatiating on her character traits and personal life details. If a stranger wants to learn more about her, the only way of satisfying their curiousity is a friendly chat. Fatalis isn't hostile to any person, and she will never be. In fact, she loves making new friends and aquintances.

Advanced knowledge: Ukrainian, Russian;
Intermediate knowledge: English;
Basic knowledge: German;
Wants to learn: Polish, Italian, Finnish.

Where else do I reside?
Tumblr - a huge work in progress, will be used for crappy sketches and fun.
Facebook - for chatting internationally!
Weasyl - no idea why.
WeUa - for Ukropian m8s.
VK - wuttufuk I didn't even.
FurNation - I was drunk, me no wanties to bee there anymoar.
FlightRising - (neglection)
Dragcave - (extreme neglection)
Skype - ars.fatalis

Free counters! Free counters!


Stinger | Male | Wanderer by ArsFatalis
Stinger | Male | Wanderer
Oh my, it's finally done D: It took me the whole day to paint this stag on a dramatic cloudy landscape, and my hips are hurting a lot ;;
Nevermind, my first fawnling character! I am so happy to own such a pretty design. And the character himself, he's amazing; if I was a windy-head filly-doe, I would fall for him immidiately.
Very soon I shall begin telling his story, but now... Let me plan everything carefully and relax. Pimpirim.

NOTE: to make a better idea of Stinger's body built, please look at his design sheet. It's much more accurate than my lame painterly reference.


Basic information

Name: Stinger (also known as Sting)
Gender: Male
Age: 9 years
Year of Birth: Summer, 750 of the New Age
Height: 9,3 HH approx. (≈ 1 metre)
Build: Light-Medium (weight is concentrated on chest and hips predominanty)
Phenotype: Blue Roan Fawn
Genotype: Ee/aa/nRn/fwfw/rzrz
Eye Colour: Dark brown
Design Sheet: Fawnlings August Pool #21
Sire: Unknown Windborne stag (NPC), deceased
Dam: Unknown Windborne doe (NPC), deceased
Bloodline: 100% Windborne
Magic Type: Wind.

Skill Points

Speed: 5 [Basic Level]
Stamina: 8 [Basic Level]
Strength: 3 [Basic Level] (Build Cap: 19 points max)

Magic: 4 [Basic Level]
Herbs: 10 [Medium Level]

Experience: 0

Herd Information

Herd: Windborne
Herd Position: Wanderer
Mate(s): (none)
Offspring: (none)
Current Location: Glenmore :O



    Stinger's personality has always been quite of interest to the others, including the members of his small family. As a foal, this thoughtful and self-contained fawnling used to sacrifice all his attention and time to nature. The daunting landscapes of The Burns impressed his young imagination with sublime grayness of granite cliffs, wondrous tranquility of the sea and the heaviness of infinite clouded skies. Sting managed to find joy and pleasant little adventures in every place he wandered through, and every little object or a living creature he occasionally found while travelling with his mother enchanted his mind with their beauty, which the adults could barely perceive.

    When Stinger grew older, he began to face a terrible crisis. In adulthood his sensitive nature easily became a target for the horrendous sins, terror, slander and betrayal. The world full of wonders he had built in his head corrupted after meeting terrible reality, and the young colt could not accept it for quite a long time. Surprisingly he didn't broke, but his life has left countless stains on his soul. While being sensitive and attentive to everything that happens around him, Sting is also known as an insidous and cunning fawnling. His perception of character and reality is incredible, and he can easily take control over a situation he is in, or build a detailed portrait of a fawnling's character after meeting them a few times. Although being a smart and sagacious fawn, Stinger usually forgets his random aquintances after a month or two. And his level of self-esteem is ridiculously high, much higher than it should be. That is the main reason this fawnling gets into misadventures all the time. And philosophizing. Philosophizing is his weakest spot.


   Sting is a kind of elegant and feminine-looking fawnling. His three-pronged horn is shaped perfectly for carrying herb stacks and other objects and occasionally clinging to low hanging tree branches.


    Stinger was born in the lifeless vastness of The Burns, a few days after his mother was stung by a tiny insect of unknown kind. Oddly enough, the doe thought it was a sign her offspring would grow as swift, agile and dangerous to it's enemies as these insects are, and fall into euphoria. Since the very first days of her son's life, she was extremely devoted to him, fulfilling all his needs within seconds. Even though she believed her foal was an inborn warrior, he seemed to show the different attitude to the reality (see the personality description).

    Somehow Sting learned that he had a father, too. His mother mentioned this buck a lot while talking to her beloved son. She told him he was a recluse, who came from the northern territories of Windborne long time ago. They used to meet each other for months, until, with the coming of autumn, their evergrowing passion lead to the doe's pregnancy. Sting was her firstling, and the young doe was afraid her herd won't accept a foal from the "renegade". The groundless fears pushed her away from her herd to The Burns, where she was sure her first fawn will see the light in safety.

    As soon as the doe's young foal was able to consume exclusively solid food, they began their journey from The Burns, his birthplace, to The Cape, where his father lived. His beloved mother and he travelled long for many months. The harsh nature of Windborne lacked edible plants the doe and his son would enjoy, therefore they both often suffered from hunger. The danger followed the two all the time, and the weak doe protected her foal from horrendous predators and thunderstorms from her last effort. By the time they found Stinger's father, she already suffered from terrible fewer. Although her mate was an experienced herbalist, he was unable to cope with her sickness, so she soon died in torment.

   This affected her son's mental state badly. Although he got used of his new life as his own father's apprentice, Sting missed the days his mother and he wandered the north of Windborne together. His pain was growing inexorably, though he made an exellent progress as a herbalist and knew almost as much as his father did by the age of five.

   And the danger came unexpectedly. The members of the Cape Splinter once paid a visit to Sting father's tiny territory, remote from their usual dislocation, and asked him to join their herd in a very polite way. They knew he had mastered the skill of healing wounds and physical damage, and they knew he would be a valuable member of their herd. He refused to join the herd, and they were asking him again and again for months. Finally, Sting's old father, who valued his independence a lot, brewed the strongest toxicate he could ever think of and envenomed himself.

    His young son eventually started to hate the other fawnlings for what he thought they have done to his father. Years of wandering and being a total recluse, however, didn't save this morose colt from interacting, usually unpleasant, with the others of his kind. He roamed the great kingdom of Windborne, learning how to use the powers hidden in unvaried Windborne flora, either destructive and healing, and slowly but surely discovered his incredible potential for posessing the magic of wind. He believes that very soon he will take an important place in the fawnlings' society.


Chapter I: year 751-755 of the New Age
Wind and Eagles
Chapter II: years 755-759 of the New Age
>sidestory: Thunderfire
The Crossing
 Chapter III: years 760-??? of the New Age

Other art with him:


Breeding info: nope. This character is not interested in being a dad yet.
Affiliation: this character is purely used in The Western Isles roleplay.
Status: roleplays are currently closed, since I'm busy telling about his foal days and upgrading his skills in most dishonest and shameful way, mwahaha.


+3 speed - base bonus
+4 stamina - base bonus
+3 strength - base bonus
+4 magic - starter bonus
+7 herbs - starter bonus
Wind and Eagles
+3 stamina - lit - 2000+ words - Wind and Eagles
+1 herbs - art - Ghosts of the Burns
+2 herbs - training/sparring with a Fawnling of higher level
+1 speed - lit - 400-999 words - Thunderfire
+1 speed - art - Thunderstorm
The Crossing
+1 stamina - lit - 400-999 words - The Crossing

Breed & design © Ehetere
Art & character 
© ArsFatalis
  The vast array of white sowflakes flooded the whole space around the lonely fawnling. The trembling dance of the sky's tears, shed in its hopeless wait of spring warmth, was 
accompanied by the harrowing howl of the northern wind. The white vibrating mass, being torn along and across by the frozen wind gusts high in the skies, calmed down near the very edge of ground, and the little frozen tears landed on the ground, making a soft, almost like cotton, carpet of snow in their multitude.
  But many of them, despite of their efforts, did not reach the deepfrozen ground, for the narrow branches of Stinger's rack crossed their paths. They landed on their smooth and shining surface, black as charcoal, and, not staying on it for long, slithered and fell down on his silver-touched pelt.
  - "For whom did I grow this useless set of antlers?" - Sting murmured, not expecting to hear an answer neither from the surrounding chaos nor from himself. - "They itched and made me suffer for so long, not allowing my head to rise above the plains and my sight to penetrate the wilderness. They have been a nice tool for root finding, though."
  Stinger walked through the snowdrifts with too much effort, straining his long and narrow legs with the hooves too thin to hold his entire body mass over the surface of the padded snow. This winter was extremely hard for the young fawnling. Heavy snowfalls and frost were his devoted companions, and wherever he would come they appeared, freezing his body and will. The stashes of medical herbs he made everywhere back in the last warm days of fall could not be reached, for the ground above them froze to the core. Stinger did his best to break the little graves of the rare plants he hoped to apply in a good cause, but the herbalist’s aim turned out to be unreachable as soon as he tried to dug them for a little.
  The frost buried everything.

  With heavy thoughts attacking his disabled mind, Stinger continued his way through the snow shroud. Every next step was becoming harder and harder for him to make, and he eventually caught an invisible stone, lying underneath the white blanket, with his hoof, lost the balance and rolled headlong down in the white nowhere. Sting felt his body, frozen to the bone, rolling down the snowy hill, hitting the underlying tussocks and stones. Finally, he stopped at the very foot of the hill, with his own foot outstretched and his neck curved funnily.
  After a few minutes of unconsciousness, the fawnling raised his head and made a try to overlook the place he had fallen into. A ponderous snowy dune towered above him, and on the opposite lay the vast smooth area, its surface shining blindingly while lit by the rare rays of sun, which started to appear from behind the roaring snowfall.
  - “The Blackfoot Sound… I suppose I’ve reached it.” – Stinger was right. Molach’s breath had frozen the somber waters of the narrow strait between Windborne, his home, and the mysterious distant land, which Stinger aimed to see. The sea, which restlessly mauled the shore during the warm season, now was solid and shone like crystal.
  Stinger rose on his feet heavily and stepped onto the frozen water’s edge, powdered with snow. It seemed solid and strong enough to handle the weight of a fawnling like him. Not surprising, for it was a hard winter. The fawnling made another step, his senses sharpened to the limit, trying to keep his weight concentrated on his front legs.
  Strange things he had seen while overcoming his way. The frozen fish corpses, perfectly preserved in a thick layer of ice, stared at the lone fawnling, as if stalking his every step. The dead birds sticked halfway from the frozen ground; the body parts above the ice were gnawed all round, and ones below preserved fairly well. Sting could have sworn the macabre smiles of the fawnlings’ skulls haunted him along the whole way…
  He walked, and he walked, and he walked.
The Crossing
Featuring Stinger
Late Winter, Year 359 of the New Age
Windborne, very close to Glenmore

Wordcount: 685 (according to Microsoft Office Word)

Sting, wat.
Sting, yu gon'be mewrder'd.
Sting, stap.

Stream by ArsFatalis



♦ Name yourself at first if you hadn't done it yet;
♦ You may leave whenever you want;
♦ Please be tolerant to the other's political, ideological and religious views: the quarrels are strictly prohibited, and the bullies will be immidiately exiled from the session;
♦ Chat and have fun! I'll do everything I can to entertain you and make your evening bright :D

Stream log

29.08.2014: Fawnlings-themed stream: writing a story on Stinger. Not sure if a view of a half-empty MC Word document entertains you, but still... I need a company! =P

05.09.2014: Drawing Fawnlings-themed work, a few concepts and something special(~). When on this moffafoffing earth I shall finish my to-do list?!

27.10.2014: A sooper-dooper special personal project!
I assume I've been thinking on this for too long.

People. The past few weeks were extremely hard for me, as my mind has experienced one of the biggest crush tests and failed it sucessfully. Due to massive overload of homework and the tasks unrelated to school it's harder for me to organize my free time, and my mental state becomes more and more unbalanced every other day (that is most clearly seen from the amount of mistakes I make while typing this text), so I would be really grateful if you meet my intention to cancel all the owed commissions, kiribans, art trade parts and other debts with understanding.

But heads up, that does not mean you can not put a veto on these. If you say no to my desicion, my to-do will immidiately return to status quo, and you will get everything I owe you in the nearest future (with stains of blood on it, but real). If you accept it, I'll return all the money and :points: to the customers who paid me first; I'll also disable any further orders until I get better.

I hope you get my point. Thanks for reading all this.
Dat feelin' when yor smartphone is smarta den u.

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Add a Comment:
Keithalia Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Your art is wonderful and I wanted to say I see you as a great inspiration
You seem like an interesting and nice person and I feel like I can relate to you in terms of life in general, just like many other artists here, I guess uvu

sorry if this makes little sense im tired as heck
NestorPriest Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2014  Student General Artist
ArsFatalis Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2014  Student General Artist
NestorPriest Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2014  Student General Artist
HundredHands Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2014  Professional Artisan Crafter
Thanks for watching, I hope you're well!
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