sinner playing as a preacher

He walks through the forest, not as if he owns it, but as a peaceful visitor, his steps soft and careful. Yezdao is mannerly enough to know not to stamp through here and disturb the land, aware that the arrival of foreigners is not always welcome by natives. Despite the bulging muscles that contract beneath his lily-white skin, he seems to be far from a threat, his wings relaxed at his side and his horned cranium hanging low, somehow making his 18.2hh body seem smaller. The two leonine tails that drag along the dirt and soil behind him- yet still somehow manage to remain a pristine white-  usually writhe wildly like violent snakes, but seem tranquil now. His thick mane falls from his developed crest in soft ribbons of white, reflecting any sort of light with a healthy sheen. As Yezdao walks through the forest, he wonders who he will find. His groin tightens at the thought of a mare, mouth salivating like a hungry wolf. Imagining the body of another curving with his own, crooked into the dips and curves of his winged flank only furthers the lust that boils behind the appearance of a calm preacher. The quiet thoughts of sin like a voice- a pulse- echoing throughout his mind. Upon his birth, it had been decided there was a slice of god within him, a drop of honey and hope and devotion that was meant to lead him down a path of abstinence and prayer. To some degree, he walked this path of life, but another trail he often ventured was a darker one. The lines between sin and virtue had been fatally blurred and distorted in the white stallion's mind, but here he was, attempting to spread a definite, black-and-white religion to the heathens of this land. Their eyes will never have fallen on a beast like him. His body forged from the blood of a warrior, his grace crafted by the hands of a healer, his devotion a gift from a faraway god, his mind the sinful combination of all of it. Yezdao slithers through the forest like the serpent through the Garden of Eden, metaphorical tongue jutting out every once in a white, tasting the air for something to do. Though he appears kind, respectful, mannerly, he is truly a man of lust and sex and sin. Unafraid to beat those who cross him, unafraid to maim his reputation in order to achieve something desirable, unafraid to stray from the path that had been decided for him at a young age. He is a wolf that allows all around him to see him as a lamb. He catches the faint scent of others... equine, unicorn, pegasus, mare, stallion, his milky eyes watching carefully. Feathered limbs cease moving, his body lurching to a halt. A top his horned cranium, one large ivory ear swivels forward and the other swivels backward, listening for any sounds of life beyond the eerie shuffling of leaves that accompany the neon eyes that watch and stare through the shadows. Dual tails that had been fairly motionless erupt with life and spirit, both moving in tandem with each other, lifting off of the ground and writhing to and fro. Exhaling roughly, his nostrils quiver. The calm man is transformed into one of anticipation and excitement. *** Yezdao has no items, but does have magic. - Can erase any memory that involves him/the mention of him from the mind of others. - Can summon light through cracks in the earth that heal wounds. - Can exude a white fog-like subtance from his wings creates a choking sensation to any who inhale it. Feel free to mutate him or his magics in any way! I'm all for anything the Rift does to him.