Username: hqmary
Name: Sera
Gender: Female
Personality: She's quiet around strangers, and will find some reason to ignore them. Because of this, her friends are few and far between.
What she thinks about her little brother: He's nice, and helped her get through the pain of a broken heart. He can sometimes be annoying though.
Hobby: knitting fluffy scarves and other fluffy winter items.
Favorite Item: Her first fluffy scarf. It's pink with red broken hearts on the fringe. She made it as a way to vent her grief when her heart was broken.
How her Heart was Broken:It all started one day, when Sera was at lunch. As she went to buy some food, she found herself waiting in line behind a black light collector, his mane covering his eyes, and his back covered with dappled wing designs. As she used to be a very happy, outgoing, bubbly light collector, she introduced herself, with lots of giggling. The male stated his name, Fang, with the slightest of smiles, as if he were Mona Lisa as a boy. And so, began a wonderful relationship. There were dates, and late-night chats, and of course kissing. After a year of this, Sera bought a ring. She wanted to propose, and she felt totally ready. She called Fang, but he didn't pick up. So, she left him a message, telling him to meet her in the park at sunset. Sera arrived at the park, and waited for Fang to arrive. Several hours later, she got a text. It was from Fang! But her excitement quickly turned to dread as she read it. 'Srsr, Im breaking up.' It said. Sera's heart sank. When it hit her toes, it shattered into a million pieces. How dare Fang use her special nickname when he broke up with her? How dare he! Sera's rage was short-lived, turning into deep sadness within a few seconds.She lay down on the ground, covered her eyes with her front paws, and sobbed. She didn't care about the other light collectors shooting her strange looks as she vented her grief on the sidewalk. Her phone rang. She ignored it. It rang again. Maybe it was Fang, apologizing? She glanced at it. No, just Clarris, wondering where she went without telling her. He was really worried, almost to the point of panicking. She told him that she was fine, everything was all right, but he could tell she was faking. Sera broke down, telling him all about what happened. He listened, and agreed that Fang was wrong. Sera was surprised. Usually he told her to brush it off, that it wasn't a big deal. Sera was so deep in thought, about Fang and Clarris, that she didn't notice that he had hung up on her. Soon after, Clarris appeared at her side, his bow tie crooked. He helped her up, walked her home, and tucked her in bed. Sera slowly closed her eyes, drifting off into Fang-nightmare filled sleep. The next morning, Sera felt so depressed, she couldn't get out of bed. Clarris come to check on her, and he carried something in his paw. It was make-your-own-scarf yarn, in pastel pink,and two knitting needles.
"I, um, looked up ways to vent, and, uh, making something was supposed to be one of the best ways. so, I, um, bought this, and, I wasn't really sure what to get, so, I , uh, went for the yarn." he stammered.
The corners of Sera's mouth twitched a little, just the faintest hint of a smile. "Thanks, Clarris. I'll do something with it."
She soon was bored of lying in bed, alone, but was too depressed to do anything else. She glanced over at the ball of yarn. It was better than nothing. When Clarris came back to check on her, he found her wearing a scarf, up off the bed, and finishing off a plate of cookies. "Want one?" Sera asked. When Clarris didn't reply, she shrugged and ate it herself. A week later, Sera was up and about, but she had lost all but one of her many friends. Now instead of talking openly, she ignored others. She talked more to Clarris, and her only friend, Evea. She seemed happy enough, hugging her scarf and making more like it. Soon, Clarris found himself with a scarf, hat, and mittens that he didn't know what to do with. Sera even started selling some of her creations. And that's the way it has been ever since.
The End.
