An Irish Blessing wrote:Always remember to forget
The troubles that passed away.
But never forget to remember
The blessings that come each day.
Unknown wrote:Kindness is free; pass it on
On semi-hiatus wrote:It's been an awesome few years, CS. You've been a pivotal part of my childhood. I pop by every once in a blue moon to reminisce, and find myself smiling at familiar faces in the boards and the cool collectibles each time.
sugar sweet wrote:
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Name:
This adorable little girl will be called Lemon Meringue for her soft, creamy colours ♥ She prefers just Meringue though.
Sex:
Meringue will of course be a female
Personality:
Caring
Meringue is a little girl with a big heart. She cares about everyone, even others she doesn't know much about. When someone needs help she always makes sure to do the best she can to help them.
Social
Meringue is a very friendly and social little girl, she is always looking for new friends to play and have fun with. Whenever there is someone new in the neighbourhood, Meringue is always the first one to come up to them and say hello.
Adventurous
Meringue loves to go on adventures. Whether it's just taking a peek into a forest and seeing all the woodland creatures, or going far away places, she always gets excited and brings back something from each of her journeys.
Art:
xXx
I hope this is okey c: I worked really hard on it and if I win her there will be lots more of her ♥
Manakete wrote:Name: Isabelle
Sex: Female
Personality: Isabelle is a kind, caring, and gentle to everyone she knows, and even those she doesn't know. She's friendly, although somewhat shy around those with big reputations (a fashion designer or President, for example). When she's worried or upset, she gets shaky, her voice squeaks, and she gets strangely jumpy. If Isabelle is upset or angry, she tries to hide it, usually not too well.
Extra:Word count - 994
The soft light of dawn crept up over the horizon, shining gently on the closed eyes of a young Rainbow Paint Wolf. The Wolf slowly opened her eyes, taking in the morning light. She lifted her head and yawned, waking her body after a long period of slumber. A sudden burst of excitement filled her veins and she stood, smiling. Today was the day. Today was the day Isabelle would create her first painting. Her fur nearly spilled with paint, the very paint she had been carefully saving for this day. She didn't make a single brush stroke all her life, not one. It would all pay off when she made her very first painting.
Isabelle stretched like a cat, yawning once more, and trotted eagerly out of her den. A few rabbits were emerging from the nearby warren, looking warily at Isabelle. She paid the rabbits no mind, trotting briskly past them. She needed to find the perfect spot. Perhaps she could make a painting on the rocks in the river, leaving the empty spaces up to someone's imagination. Maybe she could paint over a grove of trees, where only standing at one precise point would unlock the true image.
No. She thought. The place must be absolutely perfect.
Her eyes scanned her surroundings as she walked, relentlessly searching. She would know when she found the perfect spot... but she hadn't found it, not yet...
“Hello, there!” A voice chirped, startling Isabelle. “You seem to be searching for something. Anything I can do to help?”
Isabelle looked up into a tree, where a sparrow was smiling down at her. “Hello.” She said curiously. “How did you know I was looking for something?”
“Your eyes told me. Well, your eyes and your brow. Your brow was furrowed and your eyes were looking around quickly. If that's not a sign of searching, I don't know what is.”
“Well, you see, I'm a Rainbow Paint Wolf. Today, I'm going to paint my very first picture, and I want it to be in the perfect spot.”
“And you're looking for that spot, correct?” The sparrow asked.
“Yes.” Isabelle nodded.
“Well, what sort of spot are you looking for?” The sparrow said, peering down.
“Hmm... someplace open... someplace beautiful... and someplace empty.” Isabelle said slowly.
“How about a meadow? It's open, beautiful, and rather empty, save for a few field mice.” The sparrow chirped, ruffling his wings.
“Oh, that sounds perfect!” Isabelle exclaimed, wagging her tail. “Do you know where I could find one?”
“Indeed, I do. Follow me!” The sparrow jumped off the branch, spreading his tiny wings. Isabelle loped briskly after the sparrow, who was flying slow for her. He led her a short distance along a deerpath, then the trees suddenly opened up, revealing a gorgeous meadow.
“Wow... it really is perfect...” Isabelle breathed, entering the meadow.
“As I said.” The sparrow nodded. “Mind if I watch you paint?”
“Not at all.” Isabelle grinned.
What to paint... She thought. How about the sparrow?
Image in mind, Isabelle began to paint. The outline of the sparrow was pale amber, the darkest color she could use. She frequently had to climb into small trees to make sure the picture was perfect, as it was too large to see from the ground.
The brown feathers of the sparrow were painted golden cream, and the black ones, eyes, feet, and beak painted pale amber.
She left the other feathers green, as to make it look most like a sparrow's feather color range.
The painting took nearly four hours. Isabelle was quite tired and hungry by the end of it, but her pelt was finally empty of paint.
“How does it look?” Isabelle asked the sparrow eagerly.
“Why, it's the best duck I've ever seen!” The sparrow exclaimed.
“...Duck? It's not a duck... it's supposed to be you.” Isabelle said, her tail drooping.
“Oh, er... what I meant to say was, it's the best sparrow I've ever seen.” The sparrow said quickly.
“It's no good, is it... my first painting is no good at all...” Isabelle's head hung.
“Well, it is only your first. Nobody's good at something the first time they try it. It takes practice.” The sparrow said. “Two activities that you've tried; hunting and howling. Do you remember your first attempts?”
“Well... the first time I tried hunting I tripped over a rock because I was so focused on the prey... and the first time I tried howling was... quite awful.” Isabelle admitted.
“You see? It takes practice. Diligent practice. Paint small pictures every day, then come back and try to paint a large picture again. You'll see you've improved. Now, it's getting late, and we should both be getting home.” The sparrow chirped.
“Okay... good night, Sparrow.”
The pair parted ways for the night, each going home to a night of easy sleep.
The next morning, Isabelle listened to the sparrow and began to paint small pictures on a rock. The day after, she did the same. She continued the same way for two weeks before seeking out the sparrow again. He agreed to take her to the meadow again and she tried painting him once more. This time, she kept in mind all the small pictures she had painted and the techniques she had used. It took her five hours this time, but she didn't mind.
“Why, it looks like a sparrow this time!” The sparrow chirped excitedly. “It looks just like me!”
“You really think so?” Isabelle asked, wagging her tail.
“I do!” The sparrow nodded.
“I did what you said and went home and practiced... and it looks like it paid off!”
“Good job, Isabelle. I'm proud. Now, you must get home. It's dark.”
Isabelle ran home, full of excitement. She had done it. She had really done it. It wasn't her first painting, or her last, but it was a thing of beauty, a thing of pride, and a thing of success.
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