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 Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 8:52 pm
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Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 8:54 pm
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Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 9:07 pm
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smoldering reverie 24 september 2011
embero1. a glowing or smoldering piece of coal or wood, as in a dying fire; o2. the fading remains of a past emotion Cigarette smoke swerves I Contemplate the circles of Smoke rings that he blows Contemplating you Turn to this memory Remain in this reverieTurn to this memory Remain in this reverie Reverie by Crustation
three words: gentle, distant, lost
personality: Smoldering Reverie, who generally calls others by their full name rather than a nickname, but doesn't mind when others call her Ember, is far removed from the world. Her mind is generally elsewhere and she gets lost in her tangents. Innocent and naive, she does not quite know what to make of the world. She sees many things, but she generally cannot understand or connect to them. She is distant in a lost, absent-minded way rather than cold. Instead, she can be quite warm, but always in an understated way. She doesn't get affected by others much, their happiness or sadness just sliding over her. She is too wrapped up in the faded, smokey memories of the past. She dreams of past events, even ones she has never experienced and never will. Sometimes Ember believes that her heart will slowly burn and smolder its way through her chest and just fall out. Because of her nature, Ember tends to spend a lot of time alone with her thoughts and she doesn't quite mind the isolation; she finds it peaceful.
parents: disenchanted x bone ash
siblings: pure imagination (twin) ;; unveiled truth ;; come with me
likes: soft warmth, gentle coolness, the moon, dandelions, dawn and dusk, fog, quiet
dislikes: strong heat, frigid cold, those who are overly open
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream: smoldering reverie
role-plays: the moon on fire ;; the beautiful buck made of moon and fire [fin]
sunshine dreams ;; there is more to sight than the present [on hold]
early morning musings ;; the ashes of a party bring moths to the flame [in progress]
the cold - night ;; huddle close, for it is cold [fin]
precious fire in my heart ;; the ice and snow is melting
rebuilding the mound ;; how sweet the scent of fire and friendship in the air [in progress]
fire burns at his paws ;; dear friend, what companion do you bring? [in progress]
of flames and fire ;; to speak and to be friends
emergence ;; meeting the strange ones who come up from below [in progress]
rise and shine ;; this is his family still [in progress]
what strange friendships ;; what is family
come walk with me ;; enchanted to meet you
fear makes not a nightmare ;; sharp teeth do not scare me
see in these fire dreams ;; prophecy in the burning bush
burns to know ;; is that my heart i see
sometimes i see moon fire ;; the moon bathes in blood tonight
predators and dreamers ;; the savage meets the gentle
ash eyes come alive ;; hello firefly eyes
speak loud, the swamp is listening ;; ...
some dream of stories ;; chapter one - the prologue (black dog cycle)
when fire came down ;; the first fire the swamp ever experienced
(Acquired through Enchanted Bone naming contest.)
   Imminent bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb Endurebbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb Heart |
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Posted: Tue Feb 07, 2012 12:02 am
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 sky-like-burning7 february 2012desert
The sand lay still
With the sky
Hanging pressing down
From above and
The burning sun
Tracked across the sky
Over the waves of the mirages
three words: passionate, tenacious, dreamer
personality: For all that Sky-like-Burning is a creature of the swamp, his dreams and personality are all desert. He has a burning personality and is always dreaming and reaching for greater things. He isn't exuberant or loud like an explosion, he is the slow, steady, endless burn of the desert sun. His passions consume him and this can sometime make him seem less than welcoming, but he is merely too caught up in leaping higher and higher. Desert is always nice and when he is able to tear his mind away from the next thing he wants to do, he's happy to spend time with people, even if only for a fleeting moment. He delights in seeing others living their lives with joy and love because he always strives to live his life to fullest and he wants to see others raging, running, walking through life with the same amount as zest. If life is beating someone down, he's liable to stop and try to be a supportive presence, to help lift someone up into the burning, brilliant sky with him.
likes: heat, sand, dawn, dusk, and noon, greatness
dislikes: cold, starless-moonless night, being held back
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream: ...coming soon...
roleplays: berryjuice
leaves-to-see/leaves-the-sea
i walked across
colors of the wind
(Acquired in the Design Seed Semi-Custom Contest) |
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Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2012 7:25 pm
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treacherous snow10 february, 2012
cornice
You walk cautiously
Across the pure, white
Expanse stretching before
You and hope not
To step upon
Treacherous snow
Lest you tumble down
To your death
three words: manipulative, deceptive, aggressive
personality: Charming and charismatic, Cornice is cold as ice. She is manipulative and will be nice to an extent to meet her ultimate goal, but she has no true empathy for anyone. Absolutely rational, she doesn't care for anything that delves into emotions or so-called intuition, staying firmly planted in what she can see, hear, taste, feel, and smell. Cornice will only tell the truth so long as it benefits her to and can't be bothered to care for other kin's feelings. She can fake all these interactions very well, but she only wants to interact with people because she likes watching people fall for her act; it makes her feel so much better than everyone else. A consummate psychopath, she is sadistic and domineering, but manages to passably hide it under a mask of tactful verbal aggression and well-placed kind words. She is nice and affectionate so long as it remains convenient and useful to her, but once somekin lose her interest or they are no longer an asset she tosses them aside, sucked dry by her parasitic behavior.
parents: wild beast x precipice
siblings: silent hunter ;; cries-havoc ;; marshdove
likes: other's pain, winning, getting what she wants, causing pain, tricking people
dislikes: getting caught, being wrong, being overpowered, weakness, stupidity
mate: ruri ;; no mercy
offspring: treacherous mercy [with no mercy]
naming dream: ...she stepped with a heart cold as ice towards the edge. It looked solid enough but the moment her hoof pressed gently down on the treacherous snow, it broke away from under her and she fell to her death, no fear in her heart as she crashed into white-black amongst the lost pieces of the cornice...
(full naming dream coming soon...)
role-plays: slither and choke ;; hunting a hunter for a gryphon
offerings of blood on the snow ;; hunting a boar, tracking gryphons, and winning a hatchling
tests in hunting ;; learning to trust the gryphon
no mercy ;; meeting the most childish, yet ruthless buck and deciding that he might be worth having children with
we are partners now ;; solidifying the partnership between gryphon and kimeti
frenzy ;; getting a blessing for cunning during the hunt, much needed with a dad like theirs
Blessings for the Strong ;; blessings for a strong mind to go with a strong body
Meeting Bleed to Know and coveting his sight
Meeting Edge and Marshdove
(Gift from Vesperiie and Lexenos the Knight's Precipice x Wild Beast Breeding)
  Cautionbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb Snap |
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Posted: Wed Mar 07, 2012 9:32 pm
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i fall awake8 march, 2012
daydreamer
Honey and blood fall against my face
Like sticky, warm rain.
It makes me shudder and sigh
Equal parts
Pleased and shy,
Then I open my eyes to
Look across
To the endless sky
And think
"What a magnificent dream."
I dart my tongue out
To taste the rain
And it begins again as
I fall awake
three words: conflicted, pragmatic, yearning
personality: I Fall Awake is at times coldly logical and at others recklessly passionate. Sometimes sweet, sometimes cruel, she is a daydreamer with a boundless imagination. However, she is a grounded individual who understands that life is not a dream and that it can be a tragic combination of the highest highs and the lowest lows. For that reason she walks in a waking dream where she experiences these highs and lows in her mind while living in between, always average, normal, and unremarkable. Sometimes she wishes she were extraordinary but then she remembers that what goes up must come down and is not willing to sacrifice her security for greatness. Sometimes it seems that she will take a great leap out of passion, but then she will remember the consequences and pull back, consciously being very logical and cautious to make up for the moment of recklessness. There has always been something off about her, not sadism, but simply a morbid fascination with pain, her own and others, blood, and death. She sees both elation and suffering as beautiful things. I Fall Awake can come off as aloof and even hostile, but in reality she just doesn't know how to interact with others.
likes: beauty, quietude, contemplation, opposites and shades of gray, philosophy
dislikes: impracticality, rashness, fear, falling
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream:
role-plays: a still more glorious dawn ;; the daydreamer meets the memory dreamer
(Semi-custom bribe from and be blue) |
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Posted: Thu Mar 15, 2012 11:28 pm
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sound of a thousand paws4 april, 2012
running
The wind is screaming overhead
I can’t feel the ground beneath my paws
I soar like a bird above, over, through
The sound is thunderous and it
Races like my heartbeat
It is the sound of a thousand paws
Bringing the pack forward,
Surging, flying, plummeting
three words: fierce, savage, alone
personality: So hostile and scared, all Running seems to know is that she is wrong. She is so very wrong, with hooves, horns, shoulder scales, and back spines. She knows in the very depth of her soul with unwavering certainty that she is a wolf through and through, and there must be some mistake, some cruel twist of fate that has trapped her in the body of a creature she does not love. This self-hatred has led her to hating all kin, to hate the creatures with hooves and long to tear into them like she would if she were wolf with her pack. At the same time, she feels so much sadness because she is so lonely and her hostility is more self-hatred than true hatred of other kin. She wishes for nothing more than to have a pack, to feel the absolute belonging that she felt in her naming dream, to not feel the hatred and loneliness that plagues her everyday life. She wants to run and run and not feel as if she is running away; she wants to run and howl, to feel the wind rushing through her fur and to feel at home, to feel as if she belongs. That is her greatest wish.
likes: wolves, running, the moon, cool water, snow
dislikes: inactivity, being alone, pointless killings
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream: sound of a thousand paws
role-plays: like two puppies ;; foal role-play with lightening strike
i am wrong ;; solo
...
...
...
discordant harmony ;; meeting the wolf made of the warmest moonlight and shadows
of wolves and lambs ;; meeting three nights, wolf skull, and finding out that harmony had puppies with landmark
howl with me ;; what a pack is
...
...
...
...
moonless night ;; meeting lightning strike for the first time as adults
what pack is this ;; solo
those eyes that do not see ;; it would be easier if we were not wolf and kin (flickering)
...
...
...
the wasp and the wolf ;; how do you know if you are kin?
i cannot help but howl ;; sister, i am a wolf
...
...
...
not my skull ;; the nature of wolves
...
...
... ;; oh, dearest sister of mine
this wolf ;; solo, in which running comes to peace with the fact that she is both wolf and kin, for the swamp has taken her wolf-soul and placed it within a kin's body for a reason
why the wolves howl ;; story of the howls that can be heard in the swamp
the first time wolves ran ;; a story of how wolves went from walking to running
(Acquired through Savage Event Wolf Pack writing contest.)
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Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2012 7:55 pm
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one breath out29 april, 2012
sigh
They press together
They sigh
One sigh
Two
Still one breath out
three words: obsessive, aggressive, unyielding
personality: She needs nothing more than her twin, Still Breathing. No kin else matters to her, no kin could ever compete with him for her affections, no kin else would ever get any affection. She is defined by her obsessive love of her brother, her aggressive possessiveness of her brother, her utter disdain and hate for all those who are not him. She is touch sensitive and cannot stand to be touched by anyone but Still Breathing, is repulsed by even the lightest of touches. She is also selectively mute. She cannot, will not, does not want to speak around anyone other than Still Breathing. He is her world. With him, she hunts, they hunt as one and she can relax pressed up against him with blood drying on their pelts. She can feel whole when she smears blood against his side and licks him clean. She wants nothing more than to be with Still Breathing forever. Although she is not the most charming individual, her muteness often hides the utter viciousness of her thoughts and desires and keeps other kin from realizing just how dangerous she could be.
parents: no mercy x treacherous snow
siblings: still breathing (twin) ;; unyielding winter ;; gatorbait ;; biting foam
likes: her twin, hunting
dislikes: touch, other kin, weakness
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream: still breathing and one breath out
role-plays: one breath, one voice ;; yearling rp with still breathing and grithoof
this poison family ;; family rp with first strike and her descendants
this jagged edge ;; family rp with edge and her descendants
(Breeding between my Treacherous Snow and Ruriska's No Mercy.) |
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 7:55 pm
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rush of wind30 may, 2012
howl
Push
Jump
Leap,
Faster,
Run!
Chase down the eagle
Chase down the hare
Feel the sand beneath
Your hooves
Pounding,
Unrelentingly,
To bring you
Soaring,
Flying,
Careening
Over the dunes.
Run!
Listen to the
Rush of wind
Howling in your ears
As your prey gets
Closer,
Closer,
Closer,
The blood sprays
In a long, graceful arc.
And off you go again,
Run!
three words: haunted, persistent, ambivalent
personality and history: A solitary hunter desperate to recreate the images that were laid before him in his naming dream, Rush of Wind is a buck shaped by both his naming dream and the events surrounding his birth. These two factors keep him from moving on and joining his pleasure seeking kin in their love of life. He is driven by his naming dream in which he hunted the fastest creatures over sand and through the air, the sound of the rushing wind howling in his ears, but he was born in the midst of a sandstorm, left behind by his parents and siblings when the storm threatened the rest of the family, and blind and helpless, his first memories are those of pain and fear. Necessity caused him to open his eyes prematurely, and thus, his eyes never developed fully and his already poor eyesight was further damaged by the sand lashing at his soft eyes, but even partly blind he stumbled upon an oasis, mostly by sheer luck and perseverance.
The other Acha took him in, but he was an oddity, the object of pity because he could barely see. He couldn’t appreciate the visual beauties of life and had trouble interacting with the other Acha and thus didn’t involve himself of the more carnal pleasures of good fun, partying, and gluttony. Because of the loss of sight, his other senses are highly developed. Howl find his way by minute shifts in his environment and is able to pinpoint other kin through scent, sound, and touch. He learned to walk and follow the tribe that had taken him in. As a yearling, barely grown into gangly limbs, he stumbled across his parents and siblings at an oasis, a family of hunters that lived a nearly solitary lifestyle and driven by the passion of the hunt. Even then, he had always been drawn back to the desert, away from the ease of the oasis. The tribe that had taken him in couldn’t understand why he would want to go back to the place that had taken his sight from him and he couldn’t quite explain it. His family, however, wouldn’t take him with them when they left oasis. He was blind and they couldn’t afford the burden of a blind son. With this rejection, Howl spent one last day and left the tribe, throwing himself once more into the inhospitable desert that had been his birth place.
Haunted, yet driven, by his naming dream, Rush of Wind taught himself how to hunt, following the instincts that he was born with. Try as he might, he couldn’t recreate his dream though because he couldn’t see the sights around him, just the dim, de-saturated blur of images rushing past him. As he grew into his buckhood, he became more than a competent hunter; he was a master of chasing down the fastest hares and birds that came bounding and swooping before him. When he began to dream of the swamp, ignored the dreams, determined that the desert, the unforgiving land of sand, would be both his damnation and his forever home, however, as the dreams became stronger and stronger, he came to understand the different implications of the dreams, wandering deeper into the swamp in his mind. These dreams, the only dreams that he had where his vision was clear other than his naming dream, convinced him that the swamp could be his salvation. He took the arduous journey alone, already well suited to the harshness of the desert. On the way there, he impressed a female sand dog with his hunting skills and although he did not claim her, she followed him and ran with him as he journeyed to the swamp. They gradually slipped into the role of partners and companions and she became his first friend. When he reached the swamp, he had to learn to adapt to a new landscape, but he did so quickly, especially with the help of Chase the Wind.
He only finds peace in hunting and the sound of the wind and thus cannot stay in one place for long and is always running, running towards or away from something, he does not know. Howl hopes that the swamp, the birthplace of kin, will be able to give him back his sight. He finds it hard to connect to other kin because he had spent most of his life alone and even when he had been with the tribe, he had never really gotten close to any of them. He is used to the life of a solitary hunter and only accepts Gale’s unwavering companionship even though he doesn’t understand why she has stuck with him so long. He does not mind other kin but he would rather be alone than with another. He is very restless and always needs to be moving.
In the few moments of stillness that Howl has, between his running and his hunting, he delves into philosophical examinations of self and being. Rather than having his own strict moral code, Rush of Wind is morally ambivalent, not immoral, simply amoral, and is more interested in discussing morality and discovering it through thought rather than living by it and deciding it. Also morbidly fascinated by the idea of death, taking him back to his birth into the sandstorm which should have been the end of him, he sometimes feels as if he were the living dead, a being running through the desert, plains, swamp, on stolen time. These moments of stillness pass though, and then he is back to listening to the wind and feeling the blood rush past his face, tracing graceful curves in the air.
One day, he’d like to find his family again and show them the hunter he has become.
likes: running, hunting, listening to the wind, experiencing rushing feelings
dislikes: absolute stillness
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream:
role-plays: contemplation ;; this buck, quiet, confused
this sight so beloved ;; meeting an enigmatic doe
the nature of daylight ;; a philosophical discussion regarding morality and death with delicate
these children of mine ;; what does a buck who cannot care and needs to run to do with a clutch of his own
is this a family ;; rise and co. shop
(Semi-custom bribe from and be blue)
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Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2012 1:52 pm
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water of life1 june, 2012
melange
three words: strange, ambivalent, observant
personality: mysterious and charming, he splits his time between the caves and the sand of the Borderwalkers, and along the way if he meets someone he speaks in a voice that is like the coolest water touched with the most exquisite spice. He speaks in intoxicating turns of phrase and his words charm all those that meet him. He hands out his time, his words, his attention, in small doses and then he leaves, only to come back when he feels that you need him again. When he is not carefully measuring out his words for your benefit, he is silent, a wavering figure of blue, life giving water that fills your senses and the darkest mud, completely saturated in his being, standing in the sand or in the shade with knowledge that burns bright blue in his eyes. Sometimes he will speak longer and during those times, some of that knowledge will bleed and burn into you and it seems his silence and spice laden words hide a well of knowledge that could drive many madness.
parents: wallks without rhythm x meets-the-sea
siblings: terrible purpose, fallen moon, sandwalker, set apart, shortened way
likes: thoughtfulness, knowledge, clarity
dislikes: nothingness
mate: none
offspring: none
naming dream:
role-plays: let the sands speak ;; there is no dew on the sands
(Gift from hybridic and phoenix kiss's Meets-the-Sea x Walks Without Rhythm Breeding.) |
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Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2012 10:30 am
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quick to kill26 june, 2012
strike
momma bashed its head in
the game long and brilliant
ending in red against
white and brown
then she said
you try, precious
and so i killed
with a single strike
and she smiled
voice warm
and said
my, aren’t you
quick to kill
three words:
personality:
parents: black tongue x treacherous snow
siblings: lash tongue ;; forgotten song
likes:
dislikes:
mate: none
offspring: none
name origin: The totoma had just watched his mother, his dearest one, his only love, kill a crocodile. It had been a slow kill, a game really, where Momma had taunted the poor thing, pity really, it had never stood a chance. And when it finally decided that the game was not for it, was too tired to snap at the doe who dragged it farther and farther from the water it had risen from, it tried to turn back and that was it fatal mistake. It was over in a flash, so quick with a slash, a smash, and then there was blood. When she stepped back to smiled at him with her bloodied maw, the totoma felt a swell of warmth, the only thing he ever felt for her. Then she told him, "Precious, you try now."
And try he did. So they hunted together and when he found a crocodile of his own, he smashed it's head in, not even bothering to lure it out of the water; he wasn't playing games today. Turning to look at the only one that mattered in the world, he smiled, not false like the ones he showed the rest of the world and Momma replied, all the warmth she could muster in her voice, just for him, "My, aren't you Quick to Kill."
role-plays:
(Breeding between my Treacherous Snow and and be blue’s Black Tongue.) |
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