I would like to adopt!Number: 3
Picture: 
Name: Akiyama (japanese for autumn mountain)
Species: smili
Personality: rash, brave, stubborn, clever, quick to catch on. a skilled fighter caused by the cruelty of his life since he was one. cold, cruel, and un-nerving, deliberate. a killer molded by the hands of fate and life.
Likes: running in the forests of his mountain. his mountain. his mom. the fall.
Dislikes: his father. being a monster. people that get in his way. not getting his way. people that try to make thigns difficult for him. people that hurt his mother.
Background: word count: 2499 C; The rush of wind against my pelt. My paws leaped across the soil below. Sunshine danced against my fur through the amber leaves. The feeling of flying. I could run as fast as I want in these mountains and still go nowhere. Like life. The leaves ambushed me as I dashed around their tall home, almost crashing. Almost there...the tree line moved back. No more tall oaks now. Only little bushes. Then they too, shrinked back. Finally, the peak. I stopped abruptly and sat down. The entire world in a single view. I scanned the horizon. The smilis were jovial and carefree. The younglings played amongst themselves, happily ignorant of the cruelty of life. The young couples softly whispered their love to each other. The adults prowled and pranced around, having nothing better to do. The elders stared wistfully at the others, remembering times when they were young. All was peaceful. I had to return now...sadly. I whispered a goodbye to my beautiful mountain and took one last flight down the mountain.
As I walked to my den, a ferocious blow knocked the air out of my stomach. Blood from my mouth spattered the ground, staining the calming green grass. Father.
"Where do you think you were going, brat!?" spat Father, his breath reeking of wolfs bane, a smili version of alcohol. "You don't live here anymore. I kicked you out yesterday. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT." I didn't move, my muscular body rippling with anger and pride. "Is someone hard of hearing? I SAID GET OUT OF HERE!" I shot him the coldest look of hatred and left for the mountain. "Yea, that's right, take your sorry butt and leave like a coward! Just like your mother!!"
That was the last straw. I turned slowly around and walked back towards him so menacingly. He backed away slightly. "I told you to never talk about her like that ever again," I threatened, my voice dripping with pure hatred.
"Make me," he hissed. I tackled him down to the ground and clawed his flanks and belly so deep they would never heal. His attacks were weak and flawed. Countless times, I dodged them and countered back with deadly aim and accuracy. Each time the wounds I inflicted upon him would spurt out blood and seep down his pelt. And each time he would attempt futilely to attack me who was much more clever and agile than he. Finally he collapsed on the ground, bleeding heavily and just barely breathing. Whilst I was untouched, every sliver of fur in place. My beautiful ocelot markings unstained by crimson red. My deep green eyes still glinting with hate and anger. His body was now still, no longer occupied by that monster soul, but untouched by the crowd that had gathered around us. They began to whisper and murmur. I silently padded away then broke into a quick run to my mountain, leaving behind my wretched father and my wretched life. I knew I would never return again. The crowd parted for me quickly and silently. The elders call that respect. I call it fear.
The mountain during autumn is simplistically gorgeous. The leaves fall gently down, their bright colors prancing in the warm sunshine. Alas, how quickly the forest calms me down. An oak leaf drifts down onto my head. I blow it back up to the wind above and it twirls as if to say thank you. A pearl-sized droplet of water splashes down onto a leaf nearby, shattering into a million pieces. Mother would always take me up here every day. Her favorite spot was right here where I stand. She used to say that autumn is the most beautiful time of year. The leaves leave courageously from their safe homes and into the wind, letting it carry them to the far reaches of Earth. Alas, they will rain down, a curtain of reds and oranges and bring us their beauty. And the brave trees weep softly, mourning their faithful leaves, although they will return in the spring, not understanding the leaves' loyalty and sacrifice for they will bring new life to other trees. Such a cruel yet beautiful way to die, I always thought. That is why she named me Akiyama, the autumn mountain.
She would be ashamed to see who I am now. I am not the brave and beautiful mountain she always wanted me to be. I am cowardly, cruel, cold, and feared-not respected like all mountains should be. My paws were still coated in Father's blood. I washed them in the stream nearby. How did I become such a monster? I slowly retraced my life in my head, the events in my life so clear it brings me to tears, smiles, laughter, bitter growls...
My birth was quite disastrous. I was not born blind and colorless like the others. No, I was born with eyes fully developed and my markings bold and bright. Not only that, but I was born with ocelot markings, although they were the most beautiful of the tribe, the ocelot is a sign of evil and death. The elders avoided me like a disease and the other cubs teased me interminably. My own father would not even look at me, ashamed that he had to father a freak. The only one I felt had truly loved me was Mother. She did not take my strange birth as a solemn omen. Instead, she took it as a blessing, even loving me more so. I felt secluded from the others and slowly shrank towards Mother for comfort. I realize now that was a drastic mistake. I wouldn't have taken her disappearance as hard if I was not so attached to her. Alas, I was but a young cub...
I first witnessed them fight when I was one. Mother had put me to bed quickly, but I could not sleep and snuck into their room. What I saw shocked me. Mother was on the floor crying and bleeding and Father was kicking her and clawing her with a wicked, twisted smile on his face. I did not understand why Father was hitting Mother so harshly. They never fought before...I came to the sudden realization that possibly before I had never seen the actual fight. That would explain why occasionally when Mother woke me up, she would be wounded. She always told me she was just extremely clumsy and I took this as the truth until the day I saw that fight. I was so scared that I scrambled out of the room, tears streaming down my face. But he had seen me and started walking after me. There was nowhere to run. Still, I rushed out of my den and towards the mountain, but I did not get far before he caught me by the nape of my neck.
"Where do you think you're going, freak?" he snarled, holding me up off the ground with one paw. I struggled frantically as he smiled psychotically.
"No! Not Akiyama! Please..." Mother screamed, pleading. Her attempts were useless. Even I knew that Father would not let me go, but I would not show him any fear. In my eyes, he was no longer my father. He was the smili that hurt my mom. My eyes glowed with determination in the dark night. Using all my strength, I bit and clawed at the paw holding so deeply that he cried out in pain and dropped me. I ran towards the mountain with Mother yelling behind me, "Go! Run!". I did not return until Father chased me down and beat me until I lost consciousness. When I woke, I was home and my entire body was sore and swollen. Mother was nowhere to be seen. I knew and understood why she had to leave me all alone. She had no other choice. Father probably threatened her and blackmailed her with my life to never come back. She had to leave in order to save me. I hated her for a day or so, but could not help but love her and miss her even more.
I could not handle not having Mother around. I suffered the teasing, abusing, and avoidance just to cry softly at night where she used to sleep. A year passed. My nature gradually hardened and chilled. Being abused every night, I began to learn how to fight and my muscles built up rapidly. I attacked anything I didn't like and fought whenever possible. I earned a bad reputation among the smilis. I was not the kind and timid cub they knew anymore. I was the dark, cruel beast of the tribe. I knew very well what they thought of me, but I no longer cared. In fact, I began to enjoy the fear I instilled in the smilis. Another mistake. I was becoming Father, relishing the taste of their blood in my mouth, the fur between my saber-like teeth, the look in their eyes that betrayed their fear. I was now three. The only difference between Father and I was the ability to kill. I had seen him fight other male smilis for show, mating rights, even just for fun. He was cruel and un-nerving. He always killed his opponent, with dishonest tricks and cheats. I secretly hoped I would never ever have to kill anyone.
Five. I still had not killed anyone. Until that day. A new smili that was found in the woods had the guts to cross my path. He had no idea of my reputation, but I suppose I looked scary enough for him to guess it. My claws extended, spearing the soft soil underneath. His fear was immediate and his entire being shook deliciously. He slowly backed away and I was about to let him go unharmed, he was a new addition to our tribe and only a youngling after all, until he attacked. It was shocking, he pounced onto me, pinning me on my back. His snarl was the snarl of a killer. I discovered later that he was raised by ocelots, and thus, highly trained to kill. But he was as slow as the ocelots of the woods. I swiftly flipped my tail up flicked it sharply against his back like a whip. He cried out in pain, the slash I made seeping blood. I sprang up and, pushing my feet against a tree trunk, tackled him to the ground clawing and biting furiously. Finally, I pinned him down on the ground, the tables turned on him. Still, he clawed frantically in the air. Then let his front legs drop down, as if surrendering. I loosened my rippling muscles and let my guard down. Mistake number three. Teeth glinting with a thirst for blood, he chomped down on my forearm, breaking it in two places. Blood dribbled down to my claws. I was shocked. No one had ever before coaxed my blood to come out in battle. I was now aware of the life and death situation I was in. Snarling viciously, I twisted my body onto my back and slid under his belly, clawing the guts out. He countered back my attacking more of my legs, by I would not let him. I was still much more agile and jumped onto higher ground, grabbed the fur at the nape of his neck and threw his entire body against the boulder three feet away. My right front leg was now immobile and piercing pain struck it constantly. My graceful ocelot markings could not be seen, only a thick coat of dried and fresh blood was apparent. Half was mine, half was his. Around me was a thin puddle of blood that still dripped from my wounds. A single drop slipped down the rock I was sitting on and crashed onto the grass, staining the luscious green. I finally looked towards the boulder I had thrown the other smili on. His body was laying awkwardly on the grass. His blood pooling all over the grass and boulder. His head was twisted disturbingly, and I knew I had broken his neck and killed him. I stared at my mountain, disgusted at myself for killing another smili. The smilis of my tribe had watched the entire thing. I, a five-year-old smili, had just brought down a smili almost twice my age, at eight.
My tears of sadness became bitter ones. Why? Why am I such a monster? I knew the answer. It was his fault. All his fault. That wretched wreck of a father. But I wasn't angry at him. I was angry at myself for letting me become a monster and a killer. I kicked a tree even though I knew Mother would disapprove. I kicked it again and again until I fell down into a shuddering heap on the forest floors. I tried to swallow my tears, but they wouldn't stop and great globs splish-splashed onto the dried and crackling leaves. Suddenly, I noticed a slip of paper in an abandoned squirrel home in the tree in front of me. I had a strange feeling that it was meant for my eyes to see. Curious, I wiped my tears, unfolded it, and read it. It said:
To my darling son,
As you read this, let it be known that I have most likely left the world already. I am so sorry I could not see you now. Your adorable baby face still floats in my head and wanders into my dreams. Since you are reading this, you must be going through some difficult times. I want you to remember...My tears started running again, and dripped onto the paper. Somehow I always knew she was dead, but I had tried to convince myself otherwise. This proved it, she really was gone...forever. More tears slipped down and blurred the ink writing. I could just barely read the rest.
The tree mourns for his leaves, but still fights to survive, never giving up. It goes through the cold cruel winter knowing that one day it will be warm and sunny again. Never give up hope, my darling mountain, my darling son, my darling Akiyama.
With Love,
MotherI folded the letter back up and held it in my jaws as I ran up to my peak. As I ran, leaves billowed around me, as if protecting me from any harm. I reached the peak in a few minutes. Sitting down on my haunches, I gently folded the letter into a small bird. The wind above my head whistled in approval. Before letting it go into the wind, I whispered to the bird," Maybe one day..maybe one day my spring will come too..." The small bird floated away in the wind into the distant sunset.
Faintly, a warm breeze whispered back, "Never give up hope, my brave little mountain..." My single tear full of hope and despair, happiness and sadness, landed gracefully onto the peak and slid down the mountain to the woods below.
