[monochrome.]

Owner: impossible;;
Name: Tyger
Gender: Female
Base Coat Color: Orange
Stripe Color: Black
Markings: None
Markings Color: N/A
Eye Color: This, I'll tell you -- Green
Vice: This lovely lady isn't so lovely...She often rolls around in mud puddles, tears up grass and just generally makes a mess. Hey, what's a girl without her tomboy side?
Fear: This girl's deathly afraid of baths....Unfortunately, she's going to need a lot of them.
Rarity: Rare
Other: Coat color & stripe color are both genetic. However, this Pinna cannot be bred until the end of the competition.

Rules for pre - competition:
You can begin now by posting your Pinna's name and claiming it. If you do not claim him / her by Tuesday, you will forfeit your slot.

If you'd like, you may "set the stage". Basically, tell me the setting in which you'll be training your Pinna. You may lay out the character that'll be training him (it could be you for example, if you'd like to write in the first person, but are you a kind, sweet trainer, or a rough, "we're-doing-this-my-way" trainer?) as well as anything else you'd like to add before getting started.

You'll be added to the drawing on Sunday. Not before, not after. You may draw additional objects on yours Pinna (clip, bandanna, collar) but you may not edit the main lines in anyway major way.

Best of luck, and have fun!

[Guest]

Ohmygravity <33 I identify so much!
batttthhhhhs
May I name her when I see her? I'll be training her at my house.

[monochrome.]

Revealed! c:

[ikaroony]

Anna! This one looks like mine's sister!

[Guest]

ohgravity I love orange <3
I'm naming her Tyger.

Sunday, September 14, 2014
I tugged. Hard.
It was only day one, and somehow, Tyger had managed to get herself stuck in the door. I could see that owning a Pinna meant that I had a lot of work ahead of me.
Tyger shook her head wildly, scattering dried mud all over the foyer floor. I groaned. That was going to be a mess to sweep up later.
“Tyger! Stop it!” I shrieked in fustration. The noise made her perk up her ears and stop wiggling. With a heave that made my arms shake, I pulled her through the door. Gravity caused her to fall on top of me, which smelled awful, so I pushed her off, stood up, and surveyed the damage.
I groaned. The floor already looked like it was ready to sprout flowers. I was not about to drag the messy Pinna upstairs, over the nice, clean, white carpet, and into the bathroom to make her get a bath.
Unsurprisingly, it was a lot easier to get Tyger to go outside. She slipped out the front door easily. I had to grab her matted tail to keep her from running away.
I walked out the front door, still with a firm hand on her tail and back. She looked at me with a confused expression, like, “Why did you just put me through that for nothing?”
“Oh, stop it, you,” I muttered at her, just as we got to the gate to our midsize forest backyard. I let her go through. She was yapping with joy and running all over the small “lawn,” aka the tangled mat of congealed crabgrass. I chuckled darkly. Wait until she finds the hose. She’ll be all over that.
I re-entered the house, dashed upstairs, and grabbed some grooming supplies: shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a comb. I sprinted back downstairs and retrieved some heavy-duty, eco-friendly stain remover from under the sink before returning to the yard.
After some searching, I discovered that Tyger loved hammocks and flowerpots. She’d scattered the flowerpots around underneath the potting bench. Luckily none of them was broken, although one had a chip. She was now curled up peacefully, like a little stripy fox, on the hammock near the shrubs at the back of the garden.
I walked just a little up the garden, close to the house, and turned on the faucet for the hose. Tyger perked up her ears and sat up a little. I wiggled the hose coaxingly, making the water fall to the ground in waves. Tyger made a little noise that was almost like a giggle and tried to get off the hammock. It flipped over and she fell.
I watched in horror, expecting that she was injured. She hopped up and rolled in the mud created by the hose. I guess not, then, I thought dryly.
“Stop that!” I shrieked. I pulled her up and began to wash off the mud. She flopped back over and refused to cooperate.
This is going to be hard.

[Guest]

Is it okay if I write out all the training and post it at the end?