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[Cashcash]

sorry if some one all ready asked but whens the code drop gunna be?

It's posted one page back. Please read or do a search before asking about a code drop

i'm to lazy XP

thanks for awnsering my question...sorta

[Araviir]

cashcash, that's just plain stupid. why should we help you of your just going to be 'too lazy'?

[OCeanic Vista]

Hey, Pinewin, please.

I finally finished my form for Shimmerling. Except for the number! EEP! *scurries back to fix number*

EDIT: Fixed number.

[The Sky's The Limit]

Hi, just wondering...

Do you think a poem would be okay? (Like, POSSIBLY qualify?) Because that's what I wrote for number 59.

[Araviir]

Hey, Pinewin, please.

*eyebrow raise* what? you like people spamming up the board cause they're 'too lazy' to do something on their own? if you really want to argue with me then PM me.

[sealsnoot]

Pet's ID Tag:149
Name You'd Choose for It:Shade
Gender:male
Reason You Want It: I looked at the list of things they wanted me to do, and I feel that I can hold up to that. I feel that this persons character was special and that he deserves someone who understands what the old owner wants. I'm not saying that anyone else would mistreat this character, I'm just saying that if someone wants to adopt him, they should understand and know what the old owner wants the new owner to do.
History/Background/Other: Shade was born to Midnight and Toki. Toki, his father, he never met. Midnight told him stories about how brave his father was and how he had longed to see his pup. Toki never did return from the war of the summer Shade was born. Shade, as the only male pup in Midnights litter of five, grew up weak and as a runt. When he was only 1 and a half years old he was kicked out by his pack leader.

Shade grew stronger as he grew older out on his own, and he learned how to depend on himself. Later, when he was 2 and a half years old he returned to his pack and beat his old alpha and became alpha male of his birth pack. Midnight was so proud of him.

That winter, most of his pack died from sickness, including his mother. When summer came, his pack was in tatters and the remaining wolves went their own way. Once again, Shade was alone. Somehow, he went crazy but still stayed sane. He met a grey wolf named Sage, and when he met her he became sane again. They loved eachother. Togather they made their own pack, and had their own pups.

Two years later, now Shade was 5. Sage suddenly got sick, and several weeks later, she died. Shade was so grief strucken that he left his pack to be led by his eldest pup, Fang, who was 2 years of age. Shade, from not day forth, trusted nobody and has since been a loner, a shadow of himself, in the past....

I understand that by adopting this creature I take full responsibility for it.
Yes, I agree to this.

I hope my form will be accepted.

[Lirrie]

Um what do we do if our donator doesnt respond in time?

[Princess Luna]

Hi, just wondering...

Do you think a poem would be okay? (Like, POSSIBLY qualify?) Because that's what I wrote for number 59.

Oh, that's fine ^^

Any form of a character design is accepted in forms :3 Poems, songs... they're definitely allowed.

[Pharaoh]

They Call Me Dust Of My Youth
I'm A Female
And A Horse
Of Age Three
Number 89

Why I Want Her: She fits right in to one of my newest story creations, Euphoria, and she'll be in good hands! I love making and getting art of my characters, and she'll be included because she'll be one of the mains in the story, and she'll not be let to collect dust [no pun intended]. I desire her beautiful design to fit perfectly into my story, and help make things a little more chaotic, and I'd be very happy if I got her.

I agree that she will be in the best possible hands that I could give her, and she'll never be without a few other horse friends and a story to tell. :3

Personality: Dust Of My Youth is such a sweet, loving horse. She is one who has a heart of gold, and a mind to match. She's a very sweet girl, indeed, and there's no getting around that. But not only is she sweet, loving, and kind, but intelligent. This intelligence extends to that of any horse, but it is still one to rival others. She's not all honey and peaches and cream, though, or else she wouldn't be so likable. She's very down-to-earth, but she has a fierce temper. She likes things her way, and will easily snap if anyone is to go against what she says. She doesn't mind not being leader, but she hates being wrong. She's normally pretty agitated, but that doesn't ever stop her from doing the right thing.


History: The sun shone streaming down on the vibrant mood of the day. My heart thumped wildly, my own fur slicked out and cleaned up to look about as nice as any newborn could be. My hooves glistened and I looked about, wide-eyed and eager to explore. My feet were stiffening under me, and I felt the gentle nudge from my mother that could only mean one thing. I was already standing up. My first step didn't come for a while after that, though, and I was stuck standing and staring with eyes the size of dinner plates. Eventually, though, my first few steps of life would come. The first few days were the most interesting. There were colors to take in, smells to enjoy, and a lot of time to figure out how to walk. Eventually I got the hang of it, and I could even get up to a pretty quick speed. For a newborn foal, a pretty quick speed. I was the most energetic foal the herd had yet to see, though, and I never stopped going. I always knew just how to pick myself up and shoot off again, chasing a butterfly or bee. Nothing slowed me down, nothing stopped me, and I was a boundless soul.

I was a few weeks old, and already had traveled much farther than a lot of the other horses ever had. I'd found myself in patches of grass up to my knees, the ticklish kinds that would rub your belly until you fell over laughing. I was a bubbly foal, and always dragged a couple of horses with me to have a good time. Well, for me a good time. I absolutely adored visiting the little springs with their cool shade trees and refreshing waters. The weightlessness when one swims was always an amazing feeling, and I could scarcely ignore that I loved to swim. Not only did I love to swim as a little foal, however, but I also loved to hear stories. That's what I loved most of all, more than any other pastime I had thought up on my own or learned from a friend. The elderly horses would recount the stories of my herd's history, of the land of Euphoria and the lands surrounding it. My favorite story, however, will always be the creation of Euphoria.

Long ago there was a very large land. It was an island, with beaches all over and sunshine and grass and happiness. Then one day a small star fell from the sky and landed on the tiny island. There the star began to grow, and it lit up the land in even more joy and love than ever before. This little star grew into a beautiful mare, with flowing locks that were more gold than the sun, and a heart as big as the whole of the galaxy - one can only expect so much from stars.

But as for every existing thing, an opposite must also be. One day the beautiful mare, named Starria, found a small black lump of lifeless sorrow. She had never known such sadness, and it seemed that it was the one thing that ruined her happy little island. So she touched it and gave it life, hoping she could teach it that it might be happy and not shadow her fair island. She raised it, naming it Darrsus, and the two of them were great friends.

Darrsus wanted power, though, and his black little heart didn't have a single shred of light for itself. So Starria was forced to exile him, as he began to act as a dictator over the bees and blossoms. He grew angry, and receded to the darkest corner of the earth to wait until he could finally have his revenge for being ignored. Nobody likes being ignored, you see. He watched and waited a thousand years while Starria tended to her happy little island.

One day he came up from the ground with an army of shadows and darkness. He used them to destroy the land, and Starria was forced to place a terrible curse upon him. She commanded him to live forever under the ground in the cold, hard place he detested so much. He was clever, though, and her touch had also given him magic. He cursed the land that when the sun was blotted out of the sky, and the world turned red and black in the light, that he would rise again and destroy everything she loved and treated dear.

Starria wasn't afraid, though, and so she decided to create a land full of happy friends. The birds and butterflies were nice, but without someone like Darrus to talk to, she felt very much alone in the world. So she made the land we live in now, and called it Euphoria, for the endless happiness everyone felt when in the peaceful land. She placed many other horses here, and they were great friends. She watches us from the stars now, her glistening fur and glittering eyes making the night sky that much more beautiful for all us happy little foals and yearlings.

When I was an older foal I also began to create stories for others to hear. A lot of them had to do with black skies, red moons, and monsters from the Earth. Who didn't love a good monster story? Obviously every newborn in the herd did, because I was always the center of attention. Never could anyone outshine me in the storytelling setting, even if they tried as hard as they could. I was a born daughter of words, as I liked to call it, and they flowed as freely from my lovely lips as any water that poured out of an overflowing spring. My words were so great that I had a lot of horses listening by the time I was a year old. I was definitely the most popular yearling the herd knew! I was fiery and tempermental, but my words were as soft to the ears as butterfly kisses to the dancing flowers. Obviously I was a poetic horse, and had I been human, I would've been the writer of many good stories. One of my greatest was about a brave young hero who was the color of fire, and had to face monsters and serpents and all manner of frightening and spooky beasts. Yes, it sounds amazing, no? Maybe later I'll tell you one or two.

But I wasn't born anything close to a leader. I was much too self-centered and selfish, my own heart's desires to help myself. It was a sad fate, really, but I was already content to accept the fact that I would be a good Elder. They were loved, respected, and got to spend their whole days telling stories and tales to foals, and lecturing the mares and stallions, challenging the yearlings' knowledge, and having a wonderful old time together as good friends. I wasn't born to lead. I also wasn't born to be a messenger. Thank goodness for that though, right? I might be dead now if I was. All in due time, though, I'll tell you what I mean. Anyway, I was hardly faster than a newborn on shaky legs. I may have had a never-ending supply of energy and excitement, but I was nowhere near fast. I was as slow as an Elder walking on a log. Yeah, pretty slow indeed; I wasn't about to spend my days running, jumping, tripping, falling, and eventually hurting myself, just to tell boring old truths to the leaders of the other herds of Euphoria.

As an older yearling, my stories began to take even more dramatic twists. Sometimes they would end with a to be continued type of thing, or other times the main characters might die to save the world. I had everyone on edge, and caught even the most strict and harsh of horses listening in from time to time. Eventually I was invited to tell the whole herd a story! Yeah, the leader invited me of all people to tell the tale of my favorite heroes and heroines, all meshed together in a crazy and twisted plot of epic proportion. Everyone loved it, and I had a million fans to my talents. It became a common occurrence then, and every few days I'd gather the Elders, foals, yearlings, and some older horses, and continue a story or two. Sometimes I repeated myself, but mostly I thought up stories off the top of my head. Yeah, I would just make it up as a continuation of the previous story. It was so nice, you see, to be a favorite among all the horses. I was always eager to chat one's ear off, mostly in the form of tales, but not always. Fire In My Eyes was my biggest hero. Since you're probably bored of this, I'll take the time to tell you a short story about him.

Fire In My Eyes was the most handsome horse ever born ever. He was red as fire, with eyes that looked like suns and hooves as loud as thunder when he ran. He was quite a great horse, almost perfect in every aspect. Every mare wanted to have him for a mate, and he was the strongest, bravest, most amazing horse in all the land. He faced so many monsters, and became the greatest hero ever known to the land.

He was walking along a pathway one day when a great serpent came up to him. "I will kill you with my venom, for I hear you cannot be defeated by any normal means. But I am a serpent, and so I shall destroy you with my fangs and poison." The great viper reared its ugly green head and dove down, about to strike Fire In My Eyes and completely destroy him. The teeth were as big as trees, as sharp as claws, and glistening pearly white with a deadly poison.

Fire In My Eyes was smart, though, and dove out of the way as soon as he saw the snake open its mouth. The snake came down and got himself stuck in the ground. Fire In My Eyes then looked straight into the snake's eyes and told him that he would let the snake live, but he would forever have to leave the land of Euphoria and take his other serpent friends with him. The snake agreed and now the land has no snakes or serpents in it.

Yes, that story is childish. It was my first with Fire In My Eyes, but you see, I absolutely loved the story and still use it as a base for any other story I create. Anyway, when I was halfway through my being a yearling, War came. It started out very strange. There was an eclipse, and afterward we heard word of the horse's death. The news came from another herd that one of their poor little messengers had been killed. They didn't know how or why, but they said it was an accident. Then the next day another messenger was killed. One of ours. Then another, and another, and then War. War came and we were all terrified to hear about it. Shocked too, though, because we never fought. We hardly knew anything about the other herds, and so we were surprised that they would blame us. We blamed the others. Blame was bounced back and forth via the messengers, but they continued to drop dead like flies. War came at the wrong time, you see, but the right one as well.

It was a very dark and gloomy day, the day that we came to the decision of War. I know we were not the first herd to think of it, but so far we were the first herd to seriously consider it. I wasn't about to let my whole life slip away as horses were picked off one by one. If we declared War on the others, then battles would be fair game and not go against our code and beliefs. We couldn't just start War, we had to declare it and make it heard. Then a day was to be waited, and then the War was officially declared. All the preparations were made, the message was spoken and memorized, and we were all balanced on the tips of our hooves in anticipation. I will never forget that awful yet wonderful day. My own eager and adventuresome nature made me excited, all the tension boiling my blood to a maddening point of no return. One messenger was picked, and then everyone was forced to continue the day as normal.

One of my most attentive listeners, a messenger named Hawk In The Sky, was the one sent to declare War. He didn't come back, and I was terrified. My heart was as heavy as possible, and I felt like crying. The fact that I was so hurt didn't help my case in stories, either, and they began to become depressing. All about death and darkness. After all, my most loving best friend was gone. We never found him, no body and no living soul. Only a pool of blood, a few drag marks, and then nothing. Those horrible, monstrous herds! They had killed the one horse I considered a love of mine, and it was as if the anger inside was strong enough to shake the very earth. As strong as Fire In My Eyes' hooves. Euphoria would be rocked tonight by my own fury, and everyone would know that my heart had been shattered by the other horse herds. They'd killed my muse and my joy. After that, I was without a tale to tell.

Yes, I had run out of stories. I was a filly but I had an empty mind, all void of the happy tales that had once called it home. Oh, how I yearned to hear a good story again. But nobody had a story now, not with all the horses beginning to die. No longer was it the messengers, but others were vanishing and found dead as well. Any time we came across a horse from another herd, we killed them in spite. Yes, we were the ones killing now, to fight back and defend ourselves. War was so harsh, you see, and everyone was killing everyone. One herd always sent attacks, while another would always wait to defend. We were taking each other out though, one by one, and eventually a rule was made that we couldn't go out of camp without two other older horses to accompany us. By the time I was a middle-aged filly, the rules were so strict that the herd always had to stick together. We couldn't separate without being in trouble, but we never wanted to. We were much too scared.

I spent several months in the center of the herd, too afraid and startled and perfectly petrified to do anything. Yes, to do anything but graze in fear in the center of the herd, surrounded by frightened mares and little fillies and yearlings, and we surrounded the foals. The colts and stallions were too brave to be caught dead in the center, except for those specified too young to fight. So we all decided to let them stay with us in the very utmost center of the circle, and we guarded them all as much as we guarded our hair. We were only concerned about our own lives now. My head had been entirely void of stories for a long time, and I was so scared now that I could find no comfort in my overly creative mind. It was quite a sad thing, stuck like we were, waiting out our days as if always expecting to wake up dead.

Eventually I met a young foal who needed a story. She was blind, and I saw that her life was absolutely miserable. She had had an older brother, but he was dead now. Her father was depressed, her mother having just been killed while in birth, and she was alone in the world. Her name, Eyes Like The Clouds, was a most brilliantly beautiful title. It gave me the creativity I needed, and suddenly I found myself with my muse again. I told her tales about three horses, one blind, one mute, and one deaf. They went about doing good, saving the world, and finding their own ways. They had happy lives, and even their trials only strengthened them. She loved the tales, and became an adopted daughter of mine. Always listening to my tales, never wanting to hear anything but joy. It truly helped me recover, too, and my stories began to flow again. They were uplifting, you see, but even they couldn't lift the depressed spirits of those ruined by War. I understood that nothing, absolutely nothing, could lift our spirits because of War. But I will still try. After all, a lot of these horses need me.

I understand that by adopting Youth I take full responsibility for her.

[Dia.]

aww man competition has long forms! -sigh- Iz gonna have to add more to my own form