by flika10 » Thu Jun 14, 2012 1:27 pm
▪ Username: flika10
▪ Whelkon Name: Praeclarus Nex – Praenex (Beautiful Death in Latin)
▪ History: Praenex, a combination of the words “Beautiful” and “Death.” As a sacred creature, loved and respected by all, this was a strange name. But he was not normal. Dark, foreboding, unnatural, different. The name had a story, as well as the markings. His mother and father were loving mates. When they realized they were going to have their first child, they were excited, ecstatic. But things started going wrong. His mother became weaker with each passing day, and his father was forced to fulfill the specific needs she now presented. This was not the only trouble. Humans had been spotted nearby; the whole herd was poised to run at the slightest sign of danger. Just a few days before the child was due, the humans came. The herd ran, except for his father, who stayed planted by his mate`s side. The humans came ever closer, and he was forced - heartrendingly, brutally forced – to run. His mate was killed. The unborn pup was pushed out with his mother`s dying breath. It`s said the devastation of feeling his mother die around him changed his color, and his father, who came back to a crying pup on the ground, named him after his mother`s end. (Kind of a short story in itself, but I categorized it as history.)
▪ Short Story: Walking slowly, heart pounding, every sense heightened. He was always like this near his mother`s place of death. But still he came. It made him feel closer to her, even though the den was empty, abandoned, and anything but comforting. He curled up in the hollow where his parents used to sleep together, where his mother had died, where he was born. He nestled his head deeper against his chest, tears forming in his red eyes, but not falling. Where are you mom? It was more thought than vocalization. Despite his restraint, the tears started downward, wetting the dirt beneath him in small drops. He had never known his mother, but the stories his father told made him wish he had. Now he raised his head, trying to imagine what it would be like to have his mother to comfort him. If she were here, I wouldn`t need comforting, he thought grimly. A ghostly figure formed in front of him, misty white particles joining together into the silhouette of a small, delicate Whelkan. It leaned it`s head toward him, and he felt something like a tongue swipe across his cheek. Then it was gone, the particles flowing away as if blown by an invisible wind. He found that he was no longer crying, and the desperate yearning inside him was diminishing. He stood up and looked around, wishing the figure to come back. It didn`t, but a feminine voice inside his head whispered, “No Praenex, I`m sorry. Never again.” He lowered his head in saddened acceptance. Walking out of the old den, he felt strangely calm and more at peace with the world than he had ever been before. He looked up at a pair of birds flitting between branches and smiled. There was joy in life, he knew.
▪ Why you want this Whelkon: Well, I read the first three chapters of your story about Alni and Elnin, and liked the concept of the Ancient Whelkon. Their design is just so cool, and I`d love to have one of my own to shower with love and less-than-good art. I love this boy`s colors and markings, and how he`s so different from other Whelkon. I also have a thing for misunderstood/not-what-they-seem things with sad back stories.
If you find
flika10 on any other site, it`s probably me.
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