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[BoomARat]

Res!

[Coco Bunny]

username; Coco Bunny
name; Victor (Vikky)
gender; Male
story;
The night was quiet, save for the hurried padding of paws, the rustle of fabric on skin and gasping breaths. A young kalon was thundering over the hard ground, toughened after weeks of drought. He was th- no, no it wasn't his fault! He yelped, paws twisting underneath his body, and he crawled under a bush, whimpering softly to himself.
The forest went silent once more as the breathing of the kalon evened out.

-----

Birds twittered in the air as you stepped off of the bus, the sun shining down upon the small village brightly. It was a gorgeous day, and you were moving into your new house. The small village of Farren, and you could tell it was a tight-knit community. Kalons of all ages and colours sat in gardens, ran over the earthen roads, and shared the news. It would be amazing, you just knew it!
Heads turned to face you, as you padded down to the gate of your house. A kalon living in the house next door leans on the fence, eyes sparkling. 'Hey!' they chirped, leaning their head on their paws. 'I'm Ebony.'
'Ah, hello! My name is Amai.'
'Just moved here, eh? I hope you like it here! I've lived here my whole life, and it's pretty nice here. Everyone's super close.'
'I hope I don't end up intruding then.' A ghost of a smile plays on their lips, and the conversation is broken by the kalons helping you move walking up with the boxes.

~

It had been three weeks since you'd moved into Farren, and you'd become good friends with almost every kalon there. It really was a close community, with only one local shop and twenty separate houses. However, there was one kalon you'd noticed that seemed to just... Appear. They'd be there one moment, gone the next, and whenever you looked around, nobody else had noticed them.
So, you approached your neighbour, the kalon you'd spoken to when you first arrived.
'What's up, Amai?' they asked, wiping a paw over their forehead and brushing the dark fur out of their eyes.
'Ebony, hey, um... I have a question.'
'Shoot.'
'Who is that strange kalon who I see around?'
The look of confusion is not surprising to you. What is surprising, are Ebony's next words. 'Describe them?'

Your eyes flicker to the side as you furrow your brow. 'They... Wear a black cloak, and they've got really pale, almost pink fur.'
Ebony looks uncomfortable. 'They're.... I don't know their name. They live in the forest, just outside? Nobody's ever gotten close enough to talk to them though, they're really shy.'
A determined look crosses your face. 'Okay, thank you.'
'No problem...'
You leave Ebony to their thoughts, padding inside with a plan formulating inside of your head.

-----

The young kalon blinked open his eyes, wondering where he was and why he was lying on such hard ground. Then, as he remembered the events of the previous day, a wave of sadness washed over him, and he let out a whimper. Why was he exiled for his no-fur? It wasn't fair.

But then - silence. Where WAS he? These weren't the orchards outside his town. He'd explored those extensively as a kit, and this definitely was nothing familiar. His ears fell. At a young age, he was not only an exile, but probably going to be eaten by a bear or a wolf. However, even in the flood of negative thoughts, one small positive light shone. 'It's a new start.'
Shaking himself off, straightening the huge cloak he wore, he began afresh. Sipha the young no-fur died under that bush, and Victor, the lonely wandered was born.

-----

"Done!" It was perfect. A quaint little basket with fresh baked bread, a blanket and a book. You'd put it together to give to the mysterious kalon whom you were determined to befriend. And so, your plan was put into motion.
You padded towards the forest, basket held in your mouth very carefully. Where would they be? Narrowing your eyes, you twist your head, looking around. There! A faint shadow shifted, retreating into the thick greenery. You followed behind, trying not to lose them.

Unfortunately, they seemed to want to lose you. Picking up your pace, you had to almost run to keep up. 'Please, wait!' You begged, gasping for air. You had to stop - there was no question. Taking deep, gasping breaths, you seemed to have struck a chord with the kalon, as they had paused and were carefully picking their way towards you. 'Are you alright?' Their voice was calming and deep, filled with wisdom and an unspoken past.
With a breathy nod, you pulled yourself together, eyes sparkling. 'I managed to speak to you! Hello!'
They pulled away, eyes wide. 'You.... You wanted to speak to me?'
'Of course! You seem so lonely.'
They looked away.
'My name is Amai, what's yours?'
Again with the shocked expression - had they really never been spoken to or asked their name?
'Victor. My name is Victor.' He responded, and you smiled brightly.
'Well, Victor, these are for you!' You push the basket closer, your smile growing wider as they accepted the basket, face lighting up as they sifted through the bread, blanket and book. 'Nobody's ever given me so much...' he breathed, turned to you with a joyous expression. 'Thank you so much!'
'Ah, it's no problem. I wanted to get to know you, so how better to introduce myself than with gifts?'
He laughed softly, running his paws over the blanket.
'How long have you lived in this forest?' You ask, settling down nearby.
'Oh, um...' Victor put a paw to his chin in thought. 'I'm not sure, really. I've been here a while.'
'Why?'
'...'
'Nevermind, just... Tell me more about yourself?'
Thankfully, the tenseness in his shoulders melted away as quickly as it had appeared, and as you spoke, he grew more at ease. He told you wild tales of his adventures, how he'd watched the town be created and grow, and how he was always there, watching over the kits and making sure none of them experienced what he had. Whatever that was, he never wanted to specify, but you understood.
Baby steps.
[1041]

[CO1LD]

just gonna watch

[jianwai]

❝Forgive me, for there are poisons in these woods.❞

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There, within the marshlands, past the mountains that dwell above a forest as wide as it is wild, where mushrooms spring free from towering oaks whose trunks ooze sap, so filled with such an amber ichor they would burst at the most subtle of breeze but stand tall and packed together to protect their sweetness, yes, where the forest droops and gives its way to the marshlands is the home of the unfortunate-- or rather the fortunate, depending on the set of glasses one chooses to adorn. Sweet was wind, was patience, was a thousand other things the man has learned of in such an isolation; he learns of the forest, too, and of the mountains, and the dangers of the foliage and fauna of each.

Yes, he was a beauty wrapped in tough-biting leathers and thick woven cotton, with eyes like sweet amber and skin a near alabaster shade, as if the moon had been kissed with the sweet characterization of love, and tinted the boy with the slightest shades. He were not perfection, but at least he was content-- happiness may see itself a fleeting force, but the young man could wander the forest as he pleased and return to the marshlands without trouble, for there were none to venture past the mountains on fear alone of the poisons that infected the world beyond.

The boy knew these stories to be true, for each step into the woods he would be greeted by bright red berries or earthen mushrooms, trees would ooze their amber sap, a sticky rain upon his shoulders -- both the cause and reason why he had once sought the use of a thick hide cloak -- it seemed the forest would seek to devour him; which made the search for food difficult, for if everything was poisoned, if everything would seek to ruin him from the inside out, then how could he sustain himself? To take such a leap, to jump into the void of the unknowing, even as a fur-lacking kalon he had not faced the leap into isolation-- he had been born into the marshlands, abandoned, not by choice of mother, father, or son, in the marshlands.

He would leap, take chances; gather earthen mushrooms, bright berries, and amber sap in the abandoned glassware he had made his own. Foods were a craft learned quickly, like that of an ancient song with forgotten words, to dance or cook was nothing more than muscle-memory; amber would be taken to the mountains, mixed with sugar cane before poured into thin stripped snow molds, while he waited for his sweetened goodies to cool, he would boil snow, blanch the berries and peel their skin with swift dedication, and mushrooms would boil after the berries to make a hardy soup. Cold winds have him shivering, for he never ventured much into the mountains whens now was present, often times getting sick from even the shortest adventures.

Such a lovely meal, repeated almost daily, until he had sense to cook in bulk; each time he left the mountains he would leave with extra baggage, a clinging sickness, a shiver deep enough to reach his bones. It was the furthest thing from good to his health, so he learned to cook in bulk. He found a cauldron, dusty and old from misuse. The boy would drag it best he could, finding a lower level of the mountain, where snow still piled higher than his waist, and settled on his meal for the week. Of course, he would still become sick, but such a fever would pass in a days time once he returned to the marshlands, and did not persist in an endless cycle whenever he wanted dinner. Now he would heat the cauldron, remove the covering that preserved his food, and ration his meals-- he once managed two weeks on a single soup.

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username:hanzo.
name: Tavas
gender: male
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One would believe this routine, this habit of exploration, would keep the boy hidden from the world, just as his parents had intended. Such a statement can not be held true, for the world is huge, filled with countless individuals who sought adventures of their own. Others would want, would crave, would dare ignore their villages, their homes, the stories of danger that circulated the mountains and the beyond-- for they were brave of heart and spirit, forever wanting, forever dreaming of their new home.

They were those who wanted to run towards something, not away.

Such was the wants, the desires, of a not so fur lacking man who traveled far. Past the mountains, where he would stop and rest at the ledge the hairless one had taken to using; the first time the two would spot each other, fear in the heart of the hairless one, the strange sight of something with fur-- something that wasn't a squirrel, but looked like himself, with strange white markings that adorned hair that he could only describe as a sunset, fading from the burnt orange to a softer, yellow tinted hue. They stood stalk still, watching, waiting, the one with fur wiggling their toes in excitement, bounding up into the air, an eagerness to greet this new and strange friend; movements too quick, too frightening, too much that he did not know sent the hairless one running, forgetting his food and cauldron-- an action he would regret that night, while his stomach rumbled in pain, and he was forced to eat raw berries and mushrooms for dinner, while not unpleasant, it was not as warming as soup.

The furry kalon, whose name of Yunzhongzi was given by a shop keep of a father who loved the lands far from his own, who was a sunset gifted legs and tail, would make their way down the mountain and follow the footsteps of the hairless one. Curiosity was his heart song, the driving force as teeth clamped around the handle of the abandoned cauldron, tugging such a load with all his lithe strength, intent of returning what had belonged to the one he had frightened. He would hope, and that seemed all he could ever do in life was hope, that such a gift would allow them to talk-- or at least for the stranger not to run off as he did, so frightened, so shaking.

In awe was he, of everything, of towering oaks and sprouting mushrooms. His paws ached a thousand times of pain, his stomach rumbled in agony, and his mind was sweet whispers of melancholic sleep. The deepest sleep he could think, to curl beneath a great oak tree, be forgotten by time and gilded sweet in thick amber; the argument was compelling, Yunzhongzi would listen to the sweetened whispers, releasing his hold on the cauldron and slink towards the nearest tree-- with a forest so packed it was only several feet, the young kalon already finding a comfortable spot between the roots to rest his head, when something sharp clamped around his tail and pulled. Pain was a reminder to life, taking him from the sweet honey-dew of whispers, thrashing to be freed from what monstrous beast attacked him.

He would submit, of course, lay flopped on his side and pretend death had taken him; with the way his heart raced, he imagined death would take him soon, and would peak an eye open to see the same hairless figure standing above him, the faint tuft of sunset hair peeking out and stuck between the strangers teeth.

"Forgive me," their voice was rougher than gravel, but calmness, Yunzhongzi would imagine one poured honey over loose rocks and turned a scene from the physical to a voice. The hairless one looks to be sheepish, as if he regrets his decision, his uncertainty as evident as the thickly gooping sap rolling along bark. "There are poisons in these woods."

Fear would have herself known as a player in the game of life, in the journey from mountains to woods to marshlands; fear was planted in the depths of the young kalon's heart, growing with each pulsating beat, become an infection much like an ophiocordyceps unilateralis. Yunzhongzi saw the hairless one and himself as two sets of insanity within the woods; he was frightened, unaware of what their fates would be, gaze back to the cauldron he had intended to return as a gift. Jaw agape, the sunset looks onward, hoping words of wisdom will fall on his tongue. Any second now, he'll beg himself to speak. There is nothing from him, nothing but charming looks.

The hairless one shuffles forward, their steps make no indent, they collect the berries and mushrooms and sap as they have for many years; routine, even in the presence of a strange, furry thing who stands in awe as he works.

"Did you not just say these things were poisonous?" His question nearly falls on deft ears, the hairless one looking back to Yunzhongzi.

"I know ... but I turn poison into beauty. I am Tavas."

A name to an obscure face was seen as no better than darkness; if there was no face to a name, there was no point to it, the two seemed to dance around this thought. Together in a strange harmony as Yunzhongzi sits, and finds himself longing to leave the forest and this hairless one, finds himself regretting the trip from the mountain to return such a prized piece of equipment-- prized only for its usage, for the kalon would think that ... Tavas would find a large basin to cook his meals in, and one did not care for their fork with sentimental values. To befriend was a thought far from his mind, replaced completely with the need to return to the village, or at least the mountains, before night fell.

"I should go," He mutters quick, rising, tucking his tail beneath his legs in fear of being bitten again by hairless Tavas. "My father will be expecting me."

"You won't make it to the mountains in time," Tavas looks not away from his work, busy with packing the mushrooms, berries, and jarred sap within the cauldron to be dragged. With naked paws he brushes away the spit of the other, and then takes notice of the fur between his teeth, nose scrunching as he spits the sunset hair onto the ground. What a strange texture, soft, not as coarse as a squirrel or rabbits fur. "You'll be consumed by the forest. The marshlands are closer, you can stay in my home." There are three beds, he sleeps in one, he figures it is no issue to share that which he does not use. Tavas looks back, and feels his heart long for nothing less than companionship-- the rabbits do not speak back, but this stranger does. When the birds sing in the morning, they sing a song that Tavas is incapable of comprehending, but he would imagine this furry kalon could sing a thousand songs and Tavas would understand him. "Come on, night approaches."

Yes, the Yunzhongzi's reluctance to travel delayed them; they returned to Tavas's home a hour or so after night had fallen, paws covered in the toxic sap, tired, ready for sleep; Yunzhongzi had even stopped worrying about how much he despised being here, how badly he wanted to return home was replaced by the pure, raw need of sleep. Far from his mind was companionship, to enter Tavas' home was a step he was unready for, but he was compelled to take by the sweet kiss of exhaustion.

Tavas settles him, the two share a meal in silence; from Tavas there is a happiness he had not known he missed, lost somewhere when he was abandoned and when he realized the squirrels and birds would never speak back. Silence is broken in the end, as it always is, as Tavas lights candles to shield the darkness from him.

"You said you turned poison to beauty, how?"

Tavas looks to the sunset, to the light, tilting his head to the side in curiosity to the question. As if he were foolish for asking, as if the answer was so obvious Yunzhongzi may be no smarter than a newborn. Hardy leather cloak is tossed aside, the hairless one shivers from the cold, a sting to his eyes-- but he wants this, needs this, to have something to hold onto when the darkness creeps into his home and the cold follows suite; where he fears freezing to death alone, in the dark, and hopes that the thought of the man who comes to him -- the embodiment of a sunset -- would drive those things away. "I am that which turns poison into beauty," from there thick cotton clothes are pulled off, revealing the pattern of his skin beneath, the beauty beyond alabaster-pink tint; a smile tugs in Tavas's face, embarrassment a hot blush upon his cheeks as he looks down.

He would think, believe it, that he was born to live in the marshlands and eat the poisonous plants that no other animals can eat. Instead of being poisoned though, he transformed the poisons into a beautiful design across his very flesh; a symbol of how suffering and pain can yield strength and beauty. Loneliness too, but that was cured by the sunset before him, reluctant as Yunzhongzi may be to befriend-- the concept was there, a strength for him. A strength that turns the cold night into something warm, nicer when he rolls over in thick cotton clothes to find his furry friend pressed besides him.

❝I am that which turns poison into beauty.❞

[roelian]

username; Katzuvo

name; Astral

gender; Male

story;
The sky was that of darkness. Rain pummeling the earth beneath my feet, sliding down the road, bubbling up from the overfull storm drains. Cars passed, their lights not making much headway in the torrent of rain. Their slick bodies trying to move past the flood of a road.

If only I'd been wise enough to bring an umbrella with me. I was already soaked, but the coldness did not pemetrate through my skin. Not yet. Stepping into the downpour and allowing the cold to seep into my bones was not the best of plans.

It was at a moment of balanced consideration that I turned and saw them, bathed in cloaks and shadows as they approached me. Their umbrella, large and half daunting shown from the pitiful streetlamp. An umbrella covered in stars that seemed to move ad twinkle in the patter of rain.

"Do you wish to walk with me? There is an access of room for you to join me." The stranger was peculiar. There weren't many people willing to go out of their way to help a stranger, but they were here. I was cold, ready to be in the warmth of my bed, so I let them lead me away.

The sound of the rain under the plastic protection is loud, nigh deafening as we walk together in silence. It should be more daunting than it is, but I find myself enjoying the silence as we walk. The stranger does not speak more to me, and I do not attempt conversations either.

As we arrive at my home, through the careful pointing gestures on my part, I turn to unlock the door. When I turn back to bid them goodnight, they are gone.

I do not see the stranger again until the next rainfall. How odd. I should surely recognize this stranger were I to see them again, but we only meet during rain. I try asking the next time, their name. They only smile as if they had not heard me.

I learned two months later that no one of such description lived in this town, but that there was a legend of the star boy that had died one rainy night and now haunts the streets, walking strangers home so that they do not suffer the same fate that he has.

After learning the truth of this boy, I never saw him again.

[Hot Dad]

username; Hot dad - - - - name; Bell - - - - gender; Agender

story; cute softie,

[tiny little box]

username;tiny little box
name;Squish
gender;male

Nothing is better then hiding behind a old food place with no money no where to go and no one to turn too.That was squidges life.Well her life now.She cupped the ig cup of mixed sodas in her clawed hands,what was a array of bubbly colors had turn into a nearly black sticky ooze.It was pretty disgusting to look at but she didn't dare poor it out.It was her own little treat for a dollar 79.

The side of the restaurant was pretty gloomy to say the least.A vast island of grey and black concrete as far as the eye can see.Squidge missed colors,she missed not being poor.With a quick swig the monster rugged down the soda as quickly as she had gotten it,tossing the trash to the side and kicking it off into the side of the moldy trashcan that sat next to her.She eyeballed the trashcan for a second.She swore she heard a rustle,probably a rat as she expected around these food places.She hoisted herself up from the curb and lazily went to the dumpster,opening up the heavy lid.It gave away with a thunderous boom as it slammed against the metal side.

She was about to stick her claw into it when a low growl emanated from the dark ocean of plastic sacks.Hesitantly,she pulled her hand back,straining her eyes to look down at a rather peculiar creature.It glared back at squidgy with angry eyes,its mouth turned back into a snarl as it showed off it's not so pearly whites.

It looked like a giant rat..or maybe a hairless raccoon.She snorted at the weird animal and stuck hr hand in it anyway,lunging herself in the vile can.

The creature gave off another snarl,its claws clearly stuck in the plastic sack.She kinda felt bad for the thing but she also didn't feel like getting clawed up by some weird cat thing.She ripped open a sack and pulled out a partially eaten burger.She licked her lips excitably and was about to comp into the garbage when the gremlin looking thing fell onto the large heap exhaustedly.Stopping it's struggle to get out of the trash. Squidge frowned at he sight of the poor creature and set her food down,grabbing the thin sides of the beast and pulling it out of its plastic grave.She sat back down with it,picking up the burger once again.

Now that the being was free and now longer growling at her she tok a nice long look at it.It's body was completely devoted of skin,evidence shown of scars and former wounds lightly on the wrinkled skin.It's ribcage was shown on either side of it's body and well.He just looked miserable. Squidge took apart the eaten sandwich and set it on her knee.It sniffed at it slightly and moved closer to it.
"there ya go buddy,eat up" she said,patting the creatures back as it gobbled it down."good boy" she mumbled out,taking her half of the meal and quickly stuffing her face.She sat next to the unmoving creature for a while until the darkness consumed the smelly trash bin.The creature lifted it's head curiously and looked up at squidge with its gleaming red eyes.

"heh...you're no rat are ya bud" she mumbled out,bringing a clawed hand to it's head.The nuzzled into the warm hand gratefully,laying back down in the monsters lap.



wip


Squidge,my character

[Alihorse]

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