·○●⊙Cerf-Volant Dans Les Airs⊙●○·It's pronounced serf-vo-la-nt dah-n lez eh-r. I quite like my name. It is French for kite flying high in the air. Elegant, soft and smooth, just like kite flying itself. It is a little long however, so you can call me Cer. {[Ser]}. Wether you like it or not, I like it, and that is what is important.
·○●⊙Nikki~Mikki⊙●○·The username of the person trying to adopt me. Although I can't show favoritism, I can wish everyone Good Luck on her behalf.
·○●⊙Female⊙●○·My gender of course. I do feel that I look very feminine...
·○●⊙ 3 and 3 Fifths⊙●○·This is my age silly! I'm almost 4, but i'm not quite there yet.
·○●⊙The Inside Is What Counts⊙●○·Now let me tell you about me. Personally, I feel that I am calm and gentle, like the soft gusts of wind that float carelessly through the air. At times I feel pretty good about myself, my whole body tingling with positive attitude and energy, like the kite soaring high in the air, dancing softly with the wind. But other days I absolutely feel terrible; it's as if I'm the kite that remembered that a long, thin ivory string is keeping me attached to the ground... realizing that I'll never be truly free. But one day day I will break free...and realize all that I am meant to be. But it will be difficult. I've been so sheltered, so protected... that when what hurt me the most came along, I couldn't cope. I recluded deeper withing myself. I need some to help me, save me... someone who will gradually let me up higher and higher, before cutting my string and setting me free.
·●○⊙The Past Can Hurt⊙●○·The past can hurt. I was born a clear, sunny day, with a bright blue sky and a breeze just strong enough to keep the clouds afloat on their endless sail. At the time we lived in a soft, litfle meadow in a clearing inside a small forest. My mother and father loved me deeply. They seemed so proud of me, always. I don't have many memories of my mother, as she died protecting my father and I. My father was gravely ill, and at the time was unconcious, but I know had he been awake he would have been the protector. Maybe things would have turned out differently...maybe not. Either way, from all of the stories my father told about her, she was a wonderfully kind and gentle talaroko. Now my father showed me the land and the world that we lived in. He was my light, the keeper to the wonderful forest in which we lived. He showed me the magic, secrets and wonder of every little thing, and how beautiful nature is, and how there is beauty in everything, even the little weedes that grow here and there. Now we slept in this beautiful little cave, right behind a small trickling silver blue waterfall. If you didn't know it was there, you couldn't see it from fhe outside. My father always woke up earlier to gather some breakfast, as i liked to sleep in and was horribly grumpy and cranky if woken up before the sun rose. My father always returned before dawn, however this morning he had not returned yet. Minutes turned into hours, and soon noon approached. Evening came and left. I waitex quietly in the pitch black dadk of night, the moon being new and hidden away. The next morning I looked for him. I called out to him and searched far and wide. I finally found him. I saw him roped by humans, but he was struggling tremendously. The humansgrewtired, and decided hewasn't worth the hassle. So one of the men took out a stick that shot small, deadly orbs, and nailed him right inbetween the eyes. My father fell to the ground, motionless. The humans, who cared less, continued walking. I didn't run to my father until the humans were well away. I nudged him, praying, hoping, not believing him to be gone. But he was. His eyes were open, so I shut them. With his death, came dark times for me. The world he had showed could not comfort me, for everything I looked at, from the sky, to the ground, to the plants to the animals, it remjned me painfully of him. I had jever experienced so much hurt before. Overwelming, excruciating, depressing and dark hurt. My life had changed in the blink of an eye. My light...was gone. Extinguished. Evengually I came to realize that my father would have hated for me to be so down over his death, and learned slowly and sueely to obercome my depression. I wandered off, in search of others, whom I now live with. I have never told anyone of the tragedies of my past, but then again, no one has really asked. But my past is the string, keeping me tetherednfo the ground. And I know that my fututre is the only thing that will set me free. And even when I am free, I will always have uneven edges, not matter how far my kite soars.