[grizzly.]

Username:
Name:
Gender: Bull

Prompt:
Extra:

[paopu]

xxxx❀ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ لن تكون قادراً على قطع المحيط إذا لم يكن لديك الشجاعة أن تخسر مرآى الشاطئ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ❀

x
x
x
xxxx❀xx ❀ xx❀
x



x
xxxx❀xx ❀ xx❀
x
x
x
x
xxxx❀xx ❀ xx❀
x



x
xxxx❀xx ❀ xx❀
x
x
❀
▹ paopu ◃
▹ devriye ◃ ❀ ▹ nomad ◃
xxxxthe cycle to perfectionx ❀ xhaving no permanent abode


you can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore

Destiny can be a blessing or a curse. From the moment he was born, he'd had his and, honestly, it didn't take long for him to come around to the later perspective. He was the Devriye. Nameless save for the title he'd been given the moment he took his first breath, he was the latest in a long cycle of divinity turned flesh. Or, at least, that's what he had grown up being told. It was a strange childhood. He was a child and yet treated with reverence reserved for the divine. He was to be protected because he was important, but also to used as a pawn whenever those around him deemed necessary. He was powerful but lacked any ability to make his own decisions. It was a contradictory, exhausting, existence.

Over time, his discontent grew. As a child it was easy to go along with what he was told; he knew nothing except playing the part to please his so-called advisers. There was a time where he believed it all, in the beginning. But, with age came uncertainty. No one could seem to tell him why he was better. No one seemed to have an answer of why he had to be perfect. It all built up, burrowing doubt inside of him like a parasite seeking shelter.

One day, the proverbial pot boiled over. A struggling merchant threw something at him - demanding he and his retainers help actually do something to help their people. Devriye was herded off quickly for his own protection, his council murmuring that the offender would be taken care of as they went. Yet, that was not what Devriye wanted. What Devriye wanted was answers - answers none of his advisers would ever give him.

That was the night the Devriye died.

In the dead of night he slipped out of his room, saying he was going to pray. Instead, he snuck down to where the merchant was being kept. He freed the stranger and followed him off into the desert. From then on Devriye began to learn about the world around him as it actually was instead of from behind the bars of his gilded cage. He quickly decided to devote himself to something other than prayer. He began travelling around, helping people as he wandered from city to city. Eventually, he took the name Nomad. There were no more silly titles or divine rights or being worshiped. He's got his hooves on the ground and he's making a difference - and learning about himself along the way. Helping people was always what he was meant to do. That's what he's always wanted to do. Now he's trying every day to be less and less passive. He strives to figure out his own identity, independent from the religious idol he'd always been taught he was. And, of course, he strives to never return to his old life. To put it simply, all he's ever wanted was peace: both for himself and for his people.

499

you can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore

xxxx❀ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ لن تكون قادراً على قطع المحيط إذا لم يكن لديك الشجاعة أن تخسر مرآى الشاطئ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ❀

xx219

❀

Old habits die hard. Nomad has learned that
lesson time and time again since he first left
home. Some things are smaller than others -
like his tendency to close his eyes when
he's trying to focus like he would during a
prayer - while others are far less subtle.
Perhaps the one that bothers him most of all
is his tendency to fall back on the royal 'we'
when he's not watching what he's saying. It was
how he referred to himself for a great deal of his
life.

❀

❀

Nomad has gained many fears over the course of
his life. From spiders to being alone many result from
the fact that he was so sheltered. However, there's
nothing he fears more than being trapped. He's
terrified if he went back to that he's lose the
identity he's been gaining for himself. He'll never be
caged again - physically or otherwise - as long as he
has any fight left in him.

x
x
x
❀

❀

Nomad loves learning with his whole
being. He is curiosity embodied and will
never say no to learning something new,
whether it's a language or a useless face.
He wants to experience it all, for better
or worse. He'll try anything once. In fact,
he's tried bubblegum three times hoping
that he would get better results than his
first disastrous experience.
x
x
x
❀

[veridian]

what a cutie, mark!

[henry.jekylls]

xxxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxx

Username: Ponkus
Name: Easel
Gender: Bull

Prompt:

Easel’s aspirations are seemingly simple. “To find happiness.” “To be at peace.” “To enjoy things now and forget all my worries.” It’s taken him this long to get to where he is, and he still has so much more to achieve, to become who he wants to be.

He wants to no longer worry about trivial things that keep him from enjoying himself. He wants to wander more often, get lost more often, and find his way more often. He wants to be less apologetic, but not in a mean way. He wants to learn to make things, to paint, to write, to draw, to craft, to bake. He wants to stop and sleep in a field of flowers, to feel the warm waters of a stream on a summer day. He wants to find happiness and magic in small things again. He wants to get back all that lost time spent worrying or hiding. He wants to feel at peace.

And he is slowly learning how.



Extra:

[sullivanish]

this beautiful boyo i will edit later


Username:
Name: rome
Gender: Bull

Prompt:
Extra:

[Zeca17]

Username: Zeca17
Name: Apollo
Gender: Bull

Prompt: This bulls aspiration is to be loved and liked by all, he would love being a show bull. However not like the typical hardy show bulls, he would be delicate and elegant and would adorn the prettiest of flowers, ribbons and sashes.
Extra: WIP

[Desmond]

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

Username: Desmond ------- ♛ ------- Name: Kadar Amir Al-Malik VI ------- ♛ ------- Gender: Bull

Prompt:

Kadar's dream is to stand as a beacon at the throne, in the hearts and minds of others who adore him, free of the stigma that has been trailing after him like a bad penny on the shoe of a lovestruck prom date. Though the life of a royal is painted as glamorous and without troubles, pampered and loved by any and all, the vast majority of those his family has ruled over has become jaded; how dare they live in such lavishness while the commonfolk languish and mire through the mud and everyday struggles? How dare they claim to govern fairly, while still upholding supposedly arbitrary rules? Surely, mandatory quarantine isn't necessary for any and all entering the kingdom? Surely the rationing of resources - however generous - is unnecessary and cruel?

With the line for the crown so short in front of him, Kadar - whose name bears multiple reminders of his status, to his greatest consternation - doesn't have much time to turn the title around or prove himself as different from the stereotypes before it is pinned on him, a heavier burden to bear than the weight of the crown itself.

The royal edict decrees that none in the family may show weakness; nor may they expose the lack of excess, in order to maintain the image that they are still very powerful, and very much able to fend off attackers or any who may try to conquer their little nation. The throne itself is but a hollow peacock -- magnificent in appearance, but with little to no actual substance. The family, too, has its own battles, fighting hoof and horn to be taken seriously while facing just as much - if not more - hunger during the lean times, and thirst during the hot months.

Still, for Kadar to expose that would be treason; weakening the family and the kingdom’s inhabitants and marking them for conquest.

The young prince would give from the family’s stocks, were there anything to give. No; with the pantries barren, he would have to undo the careful rationing that allowed their citizens mostly-full bellies while the royal family clung on with as much hardiness as they could muster, or sustaining themselves with the paltry resources that they could import, just so the food and water would not completely run out in the next season.

No… that would never work.

Service - such as helping the cultivators, the irrigators, and the dam-builders - has been Kadar’s remedy for the situation, the key to unlock his dream. Shedding his silks and donning denim, he has been working on connections with the commonfolk, building their trust and helping cement the very foundations of the nation, so that when the time comes for him to take his place at the top, the house of cards his family has been leaning on for so long won’t collapse underhoof.

It is a shame, though, that the royal family looks poorly on him for these low-rank labors….

Extra:

When Kadar was little, he was told stories about good princes who donned armor and saved princesses from dragons and dangerous beasts, and of bad princes, who became doomed monsters and lost their kingdom and status, who had to rely on the good will of a special maiden to survive. He was initially afraid of his future - what if he was bad? What if he was cursed like the monster, forever the shame of his family and their name? Or worse, what if he was good enough that he had to face a dragon, but lost? Never mind if he won and the relationship didn't work out - the chances of survival in the rescue were too small to bother with, after all.

Then there were the stories of evil queens - those who married into the royal family for the crown, and killed their spouse to take the throne themselves - and advisors, who poisoned the ruler’s mind with honeyed words and false ideas. Kadar’s family was prone to such infiltrations, and he was always warned to watch for intentions… which, he had never been great at reading in the first place. He grew scared, almost paranoid, of anyone who tried to get close to him, anyone who tried to become his friend or offer advice or lessons, which in the end only fostered the image of a spoiled prince that he has to work against as a young adult.

[bluex]

╔═══════════════════════════════════════════════════╗

❝𝕟 𝕒 𝕧 𝕒 𝕣 𝕒 ❞
【ｇｅｎｄｅｒ ： ｂｕｌｌ】
【ｕｓｅｒ：　ｂｌｕｅｘ】

╚═══════════════════════════════════════════════════╝

»»————-　★　————-««

navara was born into a world of routine. his mother was a young merchant’s greatest source of income,
and he was sired by a well-renowned - and very in-demand - bull. the two had previously thrown an
outstanding calf, and with having very sought after bloodlines, he was very well-received in
the marketplace, landing the merchant a small fortune. the merchant was planning to hold on to navara, but he just wasn’t cut out to carry heavy bags of products for the rest of his life.

true to his name, the bull had always had a vivid imagination. his thoughts were always outrageous,
his dreams never-ending, and since youth has been chasing them like clouds stretched across the
raw cerulean sky. his childish mindset was often fostered by his mother, who found his endless ramblings
like a lullaby. he recounted his dreams, counted the stars, and described the pretty colours that
danced on the small river's reflection at dusk. to all but his sweet mother, his ramblings were but
amphigory - verses devoid of meaning. as he aged, the merchant grew irritable at inattentive behaviours.
despite his angelic temperament, his fixation with the wonders of the world around him made his
eternal “packhorse” life fall short. at the next big stock sale, navara was sold anonymously, and was relocated
to a beautiful new pasture. everything felt different in his new home. the sky seemed to stretch further past the mountainous dunes,
and there was real grass and small flowers that nestled in the clove of his hoof when he stood to
watch the sky yawn terrific shades of orange, red, yellow and pink. his aching heart was only soothed
by the wind carrying what sounded like the mellifluous whispers of his distant mother. since arriving to
his new home, he had felt nothing but lonely, despite the small herd of cattle he shared his large property
with. he often paces the fences, to and fro, and runs from corner to corner of his paddock until his eyesight
blurs from the unbearable fatigue and scorching desert heat. his mother is in all of his dreams, and those that she is not in, he
considers nightmares. as her image fades from his ageing memory, he grows unbearably restless. he has spent countless hours mapping the night
sky, looking for stars that could help guide him home.

he aspires towards many things; to see calves of his own, to teach them how the stars align and the
best time of day to chase the clouds - but he strives most towards one day seeing his mother again,
even if its just for a fleeting moment.
(442/500)

»»————-　★　————-««

[mongrel]

mark.

[chromatic.]

Congrats!!