☁ Silver Lining Adoption Place v2 ☁

[lululizzy23]

Username:
lululizzy23

Kennel #:
56

Name:
---
Gender:
Male
Species:
Canine

Breed:
Irish setter

Personality:
-----

History:
"Are you ready to open your presents?" A gruff voice asked from outside the cardboard box I was resting in, there was a red and green ribbion tied around my neck, this was my first Christmas. I heard paper ripping above me and sat up, wagging my little tail, hoping anxiously for that new best friend my mom had promised I would one day have. "A puppy!" The freckled boy squealed, his blonde hair just dangling in front of his small hazel eyes, I squirmed in the boy's arms stretching my short neck up to give his freckled face a kiss. I heard laughter and looked up at the boy's parents, the father looked like a tall version of the little boy holding me while the mother had bright red hair and emerald green eyes. The boy gave me a kiss on the head then put me down to finish opening his presents, and I stayed by his side, until suddenly it was spring. I was waiting at the edge of the driveway for the big, yellow bus to pull up. I couldn't wait to see what adventures the boy had planned for us today, as I heard the loud engine and watched the giant vehicle pull up, my tail began to wag. "Hey boy," the boy said as I ran over to him,"you're getting big, do you think you're ready to start training?" I didn't know what that meant but I just jumped up on him and licked his face. "Well come inside, I've got a surprise for you," the boy said running into the house. I chased after him, no clue what was going on.

--Six years later--

I pranced into the woods wearing the green collar the boy gave me six years back, I was fully grown and trained, a hunter, that's what I was. I followed the scent of my boy, making sure that I didn't step on anything that would make a loud noise. I heard a gunshot and bounded over to the noise, ready to grab the dead game as it fell to the earth. I quickly picked up the duck and ran back to the boy.

Why would you like this character:
-----
Turtleneck

W.I.P. BI

[Green Arrow]

I'd like to enter too, so I'm also curious :3

Username: Green Arrow
Name: Hunter
Gender: Male
Species: Canine | Domestic dog | American Pit Bull Terrier
Kennel Number: #80
Why would you like this character/What will you do for this character?:
Personality:
History:
Other:
Turtleneck

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Username: Green Arrow
Name: Once Upon a Lonely Voyage | Voyager
Gender: Male | stallion
Species: Equine | Domestic horse | Trakehner
Kennel Number: #94
Why would you like this character/What will you do for this character?:
Personality:
History:
Other:
Turtleneck

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Username: Green Arrow
Name: Birds of a Feather | Fyire {Pronounced like 'fire'.}
Gender: Female | mare
Species: Equine | Domestic horse | Cob x Connemara
Kennel Number: #115
Why would you like this character/What will you do for this character?:
Personality:

History: Note - Joey is loosely based on Joe Greene from Black Beauty.

Fyire was born on a small farm to the old mare that ploughed the fields. Her sire was a thickset Connemara stallion, broken free from his own farm a few fields down. Naturally he found the closest mare and made friends before he was recaptured.
It was a few months before anybody realised that Bay was pregnant. Luckily it wasn't a time of year when she was needed to work the fields, so the mare could be relaxed until it was her time to foal.
The birth went smoothly, and the family that owned the farm was presented with a stocky filly, who was promptly named Fyire by the youngest son, Joey. At first, her name was an amusing misspelling of 'Fire', but it was quirky and it stuck.
Joey was her main carer. He was seven when Fyire was born, but that didn't stop him. All of his spare time was spent by Fyire's side, loving the foal almost more than her own mother did.
When Joey was ten and Fyire was three, he began to train her with his father. He quickly taught her to accept a bridle and saddle, as well as the heavy harness that she needed to plough the fields. The young mare was willing to learn and very placid. She and Joey often shared bareback rides at twilight. They trusted each other as much as was possible.
Alfie, Joey's brother, was sixteen at the time, and his father allowed him to help plough the fields with Fyire. He was strong, and a good helper around the place, but he always thirsted for adventure. Luckily he was kept in check as he was needed at the farm.
Everything seemed to be going well.
Until the Great War started.

------------------------------------

1914. Joey was thirteen now, and his beloved cob was six. She had matured beautifully, with a powerful body and a luxurious mane and tail. Her feathering was sheared off so she didn't pick up clods of mud, and she looked like a proper show horse.
Joey was grooming Fyire in her stall when his mother burst in, brandishing a newspaper with a wild look in her eyes. Hair was escaping from the tight bun it was pulled back in, and going by the laboured breathing, she had been running.
Joey looked up, startled. "What is it, mother?" He asked.
"A war. A war has been declared." The woman panted, leaning against the frame. Horror was still etched on her face as she threw the newspaper at her son.
Joey caught it and began to read. A frown creased his forehead.
"Eleanor!" A gruff voice shouted. Joey's father appeared in the doorway. "What's wrong? I heard shouting."
"War." Eleanor repeated wearily.
"What? Give me that." Joey's father snatched the paper from Joey before he had finished reading the article, his weathered face anxious.
"I haven't finished yet!" Joey protested. He was ignored, so he absently petted Fyire while he stared up at his parents.
"I don't believe it." The man said hoarsely. "We're in a war against the Central Powers..."
Eleanor nodded. "What about when they come around looking for recruits? Alfie will no doubt be first in line to sign up." She fretted as she began to pace. "George, what if he goes and gets himself killed?"
George wet his lips. "Maybe he won't. Maybe war will be too much for him. The battle field is a daunting place for a lad of his age."
"We both know he'll do it!" Eleanor said shrilly.
"Mother." Joey said patiently. "What's happening?"
In response his father dropped the newspaper and pulled out a stoppered bottle of whisky. He yanked the cork out and drank deeply, tilting his head back as he tried to mask his stress.
Joey picked up the paper and leafed through back to the page he sought. Yes, his ears hadn't deceived him. War was upon them.
"Will you have to fight, father?" He asked.
George laughed humourlessly as he re-corked the bottle. "Of course not, boy. I'm too old." He said. "I'll go and tell-"
"Did you hear about the war?" Alfie's face was visible behind his father. "Blake Hills told me."
With an audible sigh, George glared at his oldest son as he pushed past to rub Fyire's forehead. The mare whickered appreciatively, pushing her muzzle into his pockets.
"I take it you're thinking of signing up." It was't a question.
Alfie nodded as he gently pulled Fyire's ears. "Yes." He met his father's eyes and George saw the steely determination that glittered there.
"Isn't there anything that would make you..?" Eleanor trailed off when her husband put his arm around her shoulders.
"Leave him be. He's nineteen now." George rumbled.
Alfie lifted his chin gratefully as he saw the acceptance in his father's eyes.
Joey's own green eyes were uncertain. "You're going to war?"
Alfie ruffled Joey's hair affectionately, smiling. "If all goes well."
"But you might die." Joey stood up straight, alarmed. "Lots of men will fight for the Allies. Why must you?"
Alfie looked proud. "I will fight for my country and for the honour of being a man."
Joey nodded, although he did not understand. How could he? Everything was happening so quickly.

-------

A mere three weeks later, Alfie was dressed in his best clothes. His hair was neatly combed back and his old leather boots were polished. Fyire was hitched up to the small cart that the family owned, and Joey sat in it, scratching the cob's shoulder with the whip. She was evidently enjoying it, leaning into the attention contentedly.
Eleanor was of course tearful. "Alf..."
"I'll be back." Alfie said patiently. "I'm not leaving right away."
Nevertheless, his mother hugged him until his ribs creaked. Joey, watching with mild amusement, imagined he could hear his brother's ribcage protesting. He shook his head and continued to scratch Fyire.
George was more aloof, thumping his son on the back. "Go get 'em, boy." He grunted.
Alfie grinned and climbed into the cart beside Joey. "Come on, then."
Joey obligingly clicked his tongue. Fyire broke into a trot, her feet kicking up smartly.

Once they got into town, Alfie headed away to register and see if he was suitable to fight for his country.
Joey, meanwhile, hopped out of the cart and fussed over Fyire, murmuring sweet nothings in her ears. With her tall, obviously powerful body, she cut a striking figure, and it wasn't long before a young man approached Joey, adjusting an oddly fluffy moustache.
"How much will you take for the mare?" He queried without preamble.
Joey glanced up. "I'm sorry, she isn't for sale."
The soldier looked faintly surprised. "Son, don't you realize that selling this here horse is your duty to the country, providing the cavalry force with one of the horses it needs?"
"Well, I need her to plough the fields to provide my family with food." Joey said flatly, rubbing Fyire's nose.
"But-" The man was cut off.
"Fyire isn't for sale. Ever." Joey's voice wasn't encouraging.
With a snort, the soldier spun on his heel and strode off, his ridiculous moustache bouncing with each step.

Meanwhile, Alfie had been cleared for joining the army. His checks had proven he was healthy and fit. The perfect soldier. He had been put into the cavalry unit, and a uniform was given to him.
As he walked out of the office, a senior officer stopped him. "Have you a horse to ride in the charges?" He asked.
Alfie looked back towards the cart, where Joey was once more hugging Fyire. His eyes followed the boy's movements, his obvious love for the mare visible to all that might look. "Yeah, I do." He said quietly, looking away from his brother. Guilt flickered over his face before he quickly hid it, shamed.
"Which horse?" The officer was all business.
"The-the cob mare, hitched to that cart." Alfie muttered.
The older man jerked his head. "Good mount." He said approvingly. "Report here on Sunday morning."
"Yes, sir," Alfie said. With an awkward salute, he walked back to the cart and wordlessly got in.
Joey gave a boyish grin. "How did it go?"
"Well." Was all he got in response. Joey frowned, confused. Being talkative was a dominant trait of Alfie, so naturally it was normally something to be concerned about when he was quiet.
"Is there something wrong?" Joey asked.
Alfie looked at his brother, feeling the guilt wash over him at what he had done and what he was soon going to do. "No."
Joey looked puzzled, but he let the issue drop. Climbing into the seat, he flicked the reins and urged Fyire home.

--------------------

On Saturday night, Joey was reading a book, propped up against Fyire who was lying on her straw bed, dozing peacefully. He looked tired, unable to sleep with worrying about Alfie's entry into the army.
Alfie himself walked into the stable, his earlier look of shame gone and replaced with a cool, intense focus. "Joey. You know that I'm in the cavalry unit, right?"
Joey lifted his head. "Yes." He agreed.
"Well, I told the officers that I had a horse to ride." Alfie said. He waited for Joey to catch onto his meaning.
Joey started to ask a question, then faltered as he realised what Alfie was implying. "No. Not Fyire." He whispered desperately. He felt faint, twisting his fingers into her pale mane as his breathing sped up.
"Joey, I need Fyire to ride in the cavalry. It's too late to buy a horse now. I leave tomorrow."
"No!" Joey shouted. Angry tears slid down his face, and he dashed them away with the back of his hand. "You can't take my horse."
"I can and I am." Alfie's voice was growing impatient. He needed to fight. He needed Fyire to fight and Joey wasn't going to stop him.
Fyire flicked her ears, unhappy with the loud noises. The mare snorted as she sensed Joey's distress, lipping at his hand in a bid to get his attention.
Joey could almost see the good judgement leaving Alfie. "But she'll die!" He cried. With a sob he threw himself at his older brother, pummelling his chest with weak fists. Alfie did not fight back, merely trying to push Joey off.
Joey tried to hurt Alfie, tried to make him feel the pain he felt. He tried until strong arms suddenly wrapped around his waist and dragged him away. Tears trickled over his cheeks as he fought against the insistent pulling. As he squeezed his eyes shut he felt himself being passed over to the gentle embrace of his mother, who knelt on the floor and rocked him back and forth while Fyire tried to nuzzle his cheek.
George now pulled Alfie up, who was winded but for the most part uninjured.
Joey's body was wracked with sobs as he clung to Eleanor. With difficulty, she stood up, managing to cradle her lanky son. She staggered up to the farmhouse, and Joey felt himself being jerked this way and that as she stumbled under his weight.
Before long Eleanor was carefully lying Joey down on his bed. She pulled the blankets over him and gently brushed his hair back from his face. "Joey," she began.
"No. Don't." Joey pulled the pillow over his face, rolling onto his belly as his eyes brimmed with tears.
"Honey, you should be happy that Fyire is needed." Eleanor murmured. "It's a great honour."
Joey's voice was muffled as he replied, "I don't care about honour. I care about losing my best friend."
Eleanor looked away. "You know I don't want you to lose Fyire." She twisted her apron anxiously.
Joey suddenly sat up, tugging the pillow away. "Then tell Alfie he can't take her. Borrow someone else's horse." He pleaded.
"I'm sorry, darling. But I can't. Alfie's an adult now. He can make his own choices. He is entitled to the farm, anyway."
Joey hadn't expected a different answer, but his disappointment still crushed him. He slumped back.
His mother kissed his forehead. "Get some sleep."

--------

Joey had a restless night, tossing and turning as he imagined the horrors that awaited Fyire. By the time morning came his eyes were bleak and had dark circles underneath. He lay in bed, undisturbed, as he listened to the noises of the family getting up. He heard more crying from his mother, his father distractedly grumbling about having to buy a new horse, and his brother shouting goodbye. Outside his window he could hear Fyire whinnying uncertainly and the noises of Alfie trying to quiet her.
Joey rolled out of bed and crept over to the window. Alfie was mounted on the cob, and struggling to get her to leave the yard. Yet the mare, uncharacteristically, refused to move. She repeatedly swung her head round to stare at the farmhouse, waiting for Joey to come running out, to fuss over her and climb on. But the door stayed resolutely shut.
Alfie tapped her rump smartly with the crop. Fyire shied. Never had a whip been used on her. There had been no need. Now she was experiencing the uncomfortable sensation of being slapped by something she couldn't see, urging her on.
Joey was angry. Alfie hadn't hit Fyire hard, but he knew it would alarm the mare. But he was powerless. Fyire belonged to Alfie now, and the odds were that she would experience the sting of a whip more than once in the charges. Quiet, he watched as Fyire grudgingly began to trot. His heart twisted painfully as he saw his beloved mare disappearing beyond the corner.
And suddenly, he couldn't take it. He threw off the bedcovers and burst through the door, galloping down the stairs. His mother jumped as the boy hurtled through the kitchen and through the door. Barefoot, he ran across the yard, ignoring the painful cobbles.
As he skidded into the lane, he could see Fyire a small distance ahead.
"Fyire!" Joey yelled at the top of his voice.
Fyire stopped and her ears twitched at the familiar voice. Before she could look round, Joey was at her shoulder, tears streaming over his cheeks and his heart in his throat. "Fyire." He repeated as he hugged her neck.
Fyire nuzzled Joey's back fiercely. Her placid eyes were soft as she gently tugged on his shirt.
"Joey, what are you doing?" Alfie snapped. His boyish attitude seemed to have vanished overnight, and he no longer felt guilty. He was needed in the army, and he was entitled to a horse. Besides, Fyire was only a horse. She couldn't feel the pain that Joey was
experiencing now as he tangled his fingers in her mane.
Joey inhaled deeply, his face pressed against Fyire's cheek. She smelled earthy, alive and vital. The scent of hay lingered on her, and Joey sought to imprint that scent in his mind, tried to preserve this moment to tide him until Fyire would come back home. He pulled back reluctantly. "Take care of her, won't you? Don't let her get hurt."
Alfie's severe expression softened a fraction. "I will." He promised. "I'll bring her back home to you."
Joey nodded, kissed Fyire's velvety nose. "Go, my brave mare." He whispered. "Go, and come back to me when your duty is done." With an effort, he wiped away his tears and stepped back. He turned to walk away, then turned back, fingers fumbling at his neck. Carefully, he untied his neckerchief. It was a faded blue, but he would recognize it if Fyire came back. If. Joey couldn't bear to think about if.
Joey tied the neckerchief to Fyire's saddle, on the stirrup leather. "Now she'll have something to remember me by."
With one last parting hug, Joey turned and began to walk back, head hanging down in a most dejected manner.
Fyire gave a whinny. Why was he walking away?
Each step pulled harder and harder on Joey's chest. He fought the urge to look back, knowing Fyire would be watching him, her large eyes puzzled, and it would crush him.
Faintly he could hear Alfie clicking his tongue and then Fyire's faltering hoofbeats, clearly reluctant to leave Joey.
Joey continued to walk, relishing the sharp stones that pressed into the soles of his feet. Anything to distract him from the pain of losing his best friend.

-----

. Fyire .
I couldn't understand why I was being forced away from home. Surely if we were going into the village Joey would have come. He always did. But this ride had a terrible sense of finality. I didn't like the hard hands that pushed me on. More than anything, I didn't like that we were leaving Joey behind. My Joey. He had cared for me since I was a foal and we had grown up together. He was my world. But now we were going somewhere else, and I was carrying the brother. I hadn't had much to do with him before, but now it seemed like he was to be my companion.
It strengthened me to know that I still carried some part of Joey. The scrap of fabric wavered in the breeze, like my own personal flag.
We trotted into the village. A mass of men ambled around, dressed in identical uniforms. The only difference between each of them were ages. Some were merely boys, while others looked to be middle aged.
While I looked around, a loud, jovial voice called out. "Alfie Baker?" And I looked back to see a man that strongly resembled a walrus. He had curious eyebrows which curled around the edges of his horn-rimmed spectacles like immense caterpillars. I watched with interest as they bounced as he spoke.

WIP!

Other:

Turtleneck

I'm on a natural design kick lately ^w^

Love the codeword, by the way XD

WIP

[white . horse]

Theres three people going for #115 now!^^ .3.

[Solanum]

Just curious, but when is the next code drop? I still have to add some more personality traits to Mocha's form at the top of the page, so I'm just asking to see if I have a lot of time^^

You have plenty of time, don't worry.
I have mocks next week, then Chemistry coursework and probably boatloads of homework, so I'll probably have to extend the round more than usual, which is already 2-3 weeks xD

[Spare]

- Reserved.
- Huge WIP. My birthday is coming up soon so I will not be able to work on my form(s) much at the moment. ^u^
(Codeword: Turtleneck ~ so I don't forget when I finish my forms. xD)

KENNEL NUMBER 58 [Fifty-eight]

USERNAME You should already know me, haha. I'm Spare. (:

NAME Bear
NICKNAMES Big B, Bibs, & Grizzly [as in grizzly bear]
GENDER Brute [Male]
AGE 6 ½ years [Six & a half]
SPECIES & BREED Canine [Dog] > Finnish Spitz

PERSONALITY Bear is

KENNEL NUMBER 80 [Eighty]

NAME Cricket
NICKNAMES Crick & CC
GENDER Brute [Male]
AGE 4 years [Four]
SPECIES & BREED Canine [Dog] > American Pit Bull Terrier [blue & white collared irish]

KENNEL NUMBER 64 [Sixty-four]

NAME xWE0043 [Failed Winter Experiment zero-zero-four-three]
NICKNAMES Winter & Winnie
GENDER Doe/Fae [Female]
AGE Unknown
SPECIES & BREED Cervidae [Deer] > Unknown

[Rosalind]

Kennel Number: #50
Revamped Picture:

Lineart Link:
Click Here Please
Chain

[Green Arrow]

Friendly bump ^^ I'm glad the code drop is in a good while. My story for #115 is turning out to be longer than I thought XD But hopefully it will be good to read.

[pancreas]

Username: Pancreas
Name: Pretzel & Aishe
Gender: Mare & Mare
Age: 9 years & 9 years (at present time)
Species: American Paint Horse & American Quarter Horse (racing and hunter type)

Kennel Number: #85 & #94
Why would you like this character/What will you do for this character?:

Songs: Lost In The Echo - Linkin Park (Pretzel)
Personality:
P
R
E
T
Z
E
L
&
A
I
S
H
E

History:
Aishe
Love makes you a liar.
Despite everything, I think that is true. Love blinded me. Love corrupted me. And in the end, love strangled the happiness in my life like a weed strangles a flower. I'm bound so tightly I can scarce bear to move. Just thinking about what I lost brings me such great pain I can hardly keep breathing. When I was younger, I didn't think. I was stupid, I was reckless, I was blind. I was a liar. I laughed my way out of uncomfortable situations, refusing to see the truth, refusing to even feel the truth in myself. I would give anything to go back to that time, To spend another moment next to her side. Now that I look back, I can see for myself how much my words and actions must have hurt her, how I treated her like a friend when she tried so desperately to be more. She gave everything to me, her heart, her love, her secrets, her trust, and I took them all with a smile and a joke. I toyed with them, used them, but gave her nothing in return, and when the time came, I threw them back at her hooves, broken and dying.

I think I did see that she loved me more than a friend should, but I closed my eyes to it. It was too difficult. I loved her like a sister, and I was young. I didn't understand love. I didn't want to give myself to someone. I preferred to flirt, and play and then move on. She deserved better, but I didn't turn her away. Not until the end. I let her stay, let her fawn over me and worship me and do everything for me. I used her, I think. Maybe it didn't seem like that at the time, I probably convinced myself that I couldn't bear to lose her. Another lie. All it would have taken was a word, a hurtful word, yes, a word that would have cracked her already fragile heart, but a word that would have saved her years of torment and pain beside me. She would have got over me, I think, if I'd refused her earlier. But instead I let her nurture her feelings until they overcame her, and then, when she finally threw caution to the wind and asked me, I refused her. With a smile and a joke.

A smile that stuck a knife in her chest.
And a joke that twisted the blade.
I broke her. And then I left her.
I will never forgive myself for that.

Never.

Love makes you a killer.

seven years ago

Pretzel
"Pret! Pret? Pretzel!"
Pretzel gave a start, jerking upright. She'd been dozing, and had failed to hear Aishe bombing across the field. Slightly disorientated, the filly stifled a yawn and cast a glance across the field. Aishe was going the same on the opposite side, her head high as she searched for her friend. Pretzel had taken shelter from the mid-day sun in the shade of a copse that dominated one corner of the paddock. The sunlight streaming through the leaves cast shadowy pattens on Pretzel's skewbald coat as she wound her way through past the skinny trunks of the young trees as she made her way back out into the sun. Although it was still bright, the glare no longer hurt her eyes, so she picked up her face to a trot and headed over towards her friend. "Aishe, I'm here. Sorry, I--"
"You were asleep again, weren't you?" Aishe's voice was stern, but the amused glint in her eye gave her away. Even so, Pretzel still looked embarrassed, scraping at the grass with one roof as she replied, "Only dozing. You disappeared, and I was bored on my own. Besides, the sun was making my head hurt."
At that, Aishe gave her a confused look, "Pret, it's been cloudy all day. There's barely any sun." Pretzel looked up, squinting. The sun was low in the sky, but she could still feel it burning her skin. She hesitated before she said, "Yeah, I know. I was... only joking."
"Right." Aishe laughed, a high, tinkling sound that made Pretzel smile automatically. "Well anyway, you have to come with me. You will not guess where I've been!"
"Where have you been?" Pretzel attempted an annoyed expression and failed; she found it impossible to be upset with Aishe.
Aishe's smile broadened and she pranced around Pretzel with a giggle, "Come see," The champagne dun filly span on her back hooves and cantered back the way she'd came without waiting to see if Pretzel was following. She didn't have to. Pretzel always followed.

Aishe led Pretzel through a maze of paddocks with a strange eagerness. All the gates were open, but sometimes she didn't bother to go through them and simply leapt the wooden fence instead. Pretzel followed her without question, but the further they travelled, the more confused she became. Other horses were grazing in the fields they passed through, and in one Pretzel saw her mother in a group of pregnant mares. When she made a beeline towards her, Aishe cut her off with a glare. "What are you doing? Come on, you can talk to her later!" Pretzel looked longingly at her mother, but didn't offer up any argument, and after a second Aishe set off again, her friend at her heels. This time, they cantered for only a couple of minutes before Aishe skidded to a sudden halt before the next fence. Pretzel only just avoided smashing into her rump. "What? What is it? What's wrong? Are you okay--"
"Oh shush, Pret. Just look. Look at them!" She sighed, an exaggerated action that shook her whole body. Pretzel followed her gaze apprehensively. And stared. On the other side of the fence, three horses - colts - stood watching them, bemusement on their faces. Pretzel took a step back, glancing around at Aishe. She had an awed expression on her face, one that Pretzel had never seen on her before. Her stomach rolled, and she lowered her gaze. "We shouldn't be here, Ai. Let's go."
"What?" Aishe shook herself from her daze long enough to give Pretzel an incredulous look, "You can't be serious! I thought you'd like them. You haven't even spoken to them yet; they're great!"
Pretzel recoiled with a horrified gasp, "You've spoken to them? Aishe!"

One of the colts - a tall, lean dapple grey with cruel eyes - chuckled at my words. "Yeah, Aishe, you should run along with your friend. We might eat you or something."
Aishe tutted at him and rolled her eyes, "Don't be stupid, Kez. She'll warm up to you. She's just scared." She shot Pretzel a sideways glance, "Aren't you?" She gave the three colts a radiant smile and edged her way towards them. She'd never looked at anyone like that before. Not even--
Pretzel turned away quickly, before Aishe and her new friends could see the expression on her face. "I-I have to go. Someone's calling me." She couldn't stay here and listen to Aishe laughing and joking with someone else. Aishe was supposed to be her best friend. But here she was just a pathetic, stupid little baby. "I'll... see you later."
Without waiting for a response, the filly raced away at a wild gallop. She didn't look back. She didn't want to see the laughter on their faces.
She's just scared... of what?

Aishe
The filly scrambled after Pretzel, calling her name. When she didn't slow, or turn around, or acknowledge her friend in any way, Aishe ground to a halt. She watching, frowning, as

Other: Okay I'm so sorry this is really badly written. Dx I'll re-write it or something when I have more muse, I feel really bad because I love these two and I don't feel that I'm doing them justice, but because of writer's block... I'm kinda failing.
Art:
Aishe - by Festiy <3

Turtleneck

[Pumpkin Cupcake]

Username: Christmas Moon
Name: Lillii
Gender: Female
Species: Dog
Kennel Number: 16
Why would you like this character/What will you do for this character?: Well, for the first question, I adore her design and her looks! She looks like a Webkinz I would love to pieces. For the second question, I would put her on my character website and have tons of art for her!
Personality: Lillii is an energetic, excited, puppy-like dog. Her energy never runs out, and it seems as if she is just one big bundle of love! She will love you to bits when you are broken down, but can be a little bit too overreacted if something terrible goes on. But mostly she is an amazing character to have =)
History: (I am TERRIBLE at writing history, so if it counts down on the form, I understand.)

Lillii was born in a strange place called Cookie Land. Her mom was an experiment of mixing a gummy bear and a dog together, thus creating a living gummy dog. Lillii's dad was a labrador from another dimension (another story). She was born with three sisters and two brothers, but she never seemed to fit in. Her siblings wold play tag, while she explored the meaning of a rubber ball. But as she grew up, she learned to have fun and to live life while she was still young. Instead of playing around with iron and nails, she built frozen ice cream slides to slide down and eat for her friends. And instead of writing essays on smiley faces, she sang her heart out in her podcast! But as she grew into a teenager, she was just a bundle of energy with so many things to accomplish! So watch out for the future; it might just turn out to be even a bigger blow out!

Other: Lillii is SO awesome! And so are all the people helping others acheive loved characters =)
Turtleneck

(I'm REALLY sorry if I'm doing something wrong. And could I enter for two more kennels? I just wanted to make sure, that way I don't get in trouble for something I didn't know =D)

[Solanum]

You may put up three forms a round, yes ^^
Although we prefer them to be in separate posts.