[olivionary]

- Hey guys! To adopt this fella, give him a name and tell me: what happened? Why has her got a burn? -

owner
name
gender;; male
modification; Blind in one eye ; need to check up on this first with Nira

Code: Select all

[b]username[/b];
[b]name[/b];
[b]age[/b];
[b]what happened?[/b];

EEK! My first Oxirie as an artist <3

[cowboycorvid]

username; Nokota
name; Kihu
age; 10
what happened?; Forest fire He was passing through peacefully and a burning branch fell, hitting his face.

I'd LOVE to win this guy, he is so gorgeous <3

[Hell Hound]

Wow, he's beautiful! Whoever wins this handsome guy, don't be afraid to let him meet Louvel, she's blind too and they could really hit it off c:

[Cooluser1615]

Username: HeroHorse
Name: Mirza
Age: 13 years old.
The Tale of What Happened...

Mirza was the dominant buck of his large herd, and everyone knew it. It had taken him many years to build up his strong herd, but he had managed to do so nonetheless. His home was an area of savanna that was slowly being claimed by the desert sands. Many animals had turned south in search of more fertile, well-watered feeding grounds, but Mirza and his herd had stayed. Where prey did not flourish, predators did not, and the buck prided himself on the resilience and intelligence that had lead him and his herd to stay in the semidesert. The few lean predators that did attempt to attack the herd were nearly always driven off by Mirza's wickedly long horns. Even if one broke through Mirza's defences, the buck would reason that it was all for the best; predation encouraged the survival of the fittest after all. This principle influenced most of Mirza's actions as herd leader. He was not needlessly cruel, but he was never empathic and ran a tight ship when it came to discipline. Mirza did not tolerate Oxiries straggling behind the group, and would not accept any excuses. For all the brutality of Mirza's methods, they succeeded in producing what he wanted; a large, strong herd that could survive anything. Well, to phrase it more accurately, almost anything...

A particularly harsh dry season had fallen upon the semidesert, even by the standards of its scorching climate. Several Oxiries died of heatstroke, mainly calves and older Oxiries who lacked the strength to withstand the temperatures. The herd travelled far and wide to water sources now reduced to mud puddles. The little grass which grew turned dry and brittle, hurting the Oxiries' lips, which were dry and cracked from lack of water. One evening, clouds covered the skies as a rumble echoed through the land. The herd gazed up at clouds eagerly, hoping for water to quench their thirst. Instead, they got fire.

Forked lightening flashed through the sky, striking the dry sand. The parched grass was set aflame as quickly as a match, the fire soon eating up the miles between itself and the herd. Despite Mirza's efforts to maintain order, the herd panicked. Oxiries raced in every direction and suddenly Mirza also felt himself in the grasp of the most basic, essential emotion- fear. He too sprung into a gallop, streaking across the land like a red arrow. However, for all his speed, the fire was faster. Mirza felt it gaining on him and turned his head from side to side in a frantic search for water, but no water flowed in this parched land. His herd had long since disappeared and he did not know, nor care, whether they were alive. All Mirza knew was the desperate struggle to survive from one second to the next. Over the years he had grown arrogant and vain, but now the fire was cruelly reminding him of his most basic purpose in life; to be the hunted, to be prey. Mirza saw the inferno raging behind him, yet he was beginning to tire, his muscles protesting against the prolonged exertion. In a panic the Oxirie let out a final burst of speed, yet it was not enough. Mirza's vision went black and he collapsed.

The buck opened his right eye. He blinked and his bleary vision came into focus. Above him, he could see nothing but whiteness. Mirza wondered whether he was dead. He raised his head a few centimetres off the ground and let in drop again in seconds, a bellow of pain escaping his lips. Mirza reckoned that he wasn't dead. He doubted that death brought such agony. Suddenly a human hand came into Mirza's field of vision. He flinched, for he had encountered humans in the past, and they had been far from friendly. However, much to Mirza's surprise, the hand did not strike him. Instead, he felt it gently easing his wounded head off the ground. The Oxirie allowed the human to whom the hand belonged massage something on the left side of his face. He had no idea that what the foul-smelling substance was, but he felt the pain ease considerably. The human murmured southing words to him which, being an Oxirie, Mirza couldn't understand. He sensed from her voice that the human was female. The Oxirie gazed at her with a heavy heart as she turned to leave the stall. One question filled Mirza's mind. It wasn't the obvious 'Where I am I?' but instead 'Who is she?'.

As the weeks progressed and Mirza got a bit better, he began to understand more about the human. She was called HeroHorse and was by far his most frequent visitor. The human helped to heal Mirza, even though she wasn't one of the vets at the place where he was being held, which he learned was a section of a wildlife sanctuary. She would keep him company and give him little gifts- a slice of an apple, a story or two and, most importantly of all, his name. HeroHorse said that it was a male name often used in a land called Bosnia-Herzegovina. Mirza didn't have a clue where Bosnia-Herzegovina was, but he liked to hear her voice. The Oxirie's wounds began to heal, although he realised that he would always have scars from the fire. What disappointed and disoriented him most was his new inability to see out of his left eye. Things approaching him from the left often scared Mirza, and HeroHorse quickly learned to move towards his right side, where he could see her. Soon, Mirza learnt that he would be put up for adoption to a good home, as his loss of sight in one eye rendered him unable to be released into the wild again. This didn't upset Mirza in the way one might except. He was well aware that his time in the wilds of the semidesert were over, and his past self over as well. What really worried him was the fact that he would have to leave HeroHorse. The two spent as much time together as they could, certain that Mirza was to leave for another home. That was until HeroHorse had a plan. Admittedly, it was rather crazy, as were most of HeroHorse's ideas, but it had potential. "Mirza, I've had an idea." the human said as she sat on the straw bedding in the stall. The Oxirie raised his scarred face and turned his head in order to see HeroHorse better. "It's complicated, a bit mad and it will involve a lot of travel on your part but what if... what if I brought you back to Ireland with me?" the human blurted out. Mirza remained silent but both eyes- the seeing and the unseeing -glinted with hope. Could HeroHorse's idea work?

[olivionary]

Bumping!

[cowboycorvid]

Dangit, HeroHorse is definitely gonna win XD She actually put tons of effort into hers

[olivionary]

You still have time to edit your form if you want to!

I will end this tomorrow, 6 PM GMT.

[olivionary]

One Hour and Twenty One Minutes left.

[olivionary]

congrata to herohorse

The effort and love you put in really shone through and I would love to hear more stories about you and Mirza.

[Cooluser1615]

congrata to herohorse

The effort and love you put in really shone through and I would love to hear more stories about you and Mirza.

Thank you! I'm glad that you liked the story. I named him Mirza after a family member of the same name who was blinded in his right eye. He can still see well, though.