Kiamara #350 ! ~winner~ ! by wind song

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Artist wind song [gallery]
Time spent 4 hours, 35 minutes
Drawing sessions 2
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Kiamara #350 ! ~winner~ !

Postby wind song » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:06 pm

What is a Kiamara?
A Kiamara is a wolf-like creature. They have long, fluffy manes on the top of their heads, running down between their shoulders. They all have spots on their bodies- a trait in which will never be bred out of their DNA. They also have feathers- every Kiamara is given feathers when they reach the age of 2 years old. Their diet consists of fruit as well as meat- they prey on similar creatures that wolves would. Kiamara can be very shy before they get to know you. Can you win a Kiamara's heart?


We have finally arrived at 350! <3
First let me say it was a huge honor and dream of mine to design one of the special kias, and while the design is nothing extra-ordinary, this kia is very special and deserves the best home!
I think it's been a while since we've had a white/blue/gold palette, if ever, and I wanted to create something light and simple c:
The design itself is based around a bird/bird's wings.

» Rules:

This is going to be the type of contest where you get to make your own form and impress me, but there's a few thing you must include~
-Obviously your username, the kiamaras gender and name.
-You must in some way express this kiamara's personality, be creative!
-Just remember that this kiamara is deeply connected with birds, take that fact whatever way you like and I want to see you develop it. It is not compulsory, meaning if you do not even mention birds in your form you will not get disqualified, but it is a huge booster! However if you have something else planned for this kia, by all means show it off and do your best~
-Creativity and quality is everything, try and stay away from sob stories or cliche stuff.
-You are only allowed 18 art pieces in your form in total.
-Do not ask about runner ups, it all depends on the competition,
-And please, do not enter or post a wip form, if you are not going to put in an effort, or even worse, let this kia gather dust afterwards!


» Boosters~

A good, meaningful and unique name.
Something to do with birds in any section of your form.
A mix of art and literature- poems, stories, lyrics etc.
Unique extras that show off the kias personality.
Creativity and effort

»»»

End date is the 13th of October~
Best of luck!

»»»

Edit;;
Here are the hex codes everyone has been asking for |D

» body;;
#e4e9f7
#d8deeb
#ced1de
#b8bdcf
#ffffff

» spots;;
#979da6

» mane;;
#42465c

horns/feathers/eyes;;
#edd574
#dec06f
#ffffff

» beads;;
#7d9ed4
Last edited by wind song on Tue Dec 17, 2013 10:44 am, edited 7 times in total.
⋅ ☾ ──────────────────

flight rising | fables | DAMS

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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby cmichb » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:06 pm

Writing in italics is Orchid speaking.

Username:
The user who would like to adopt me is Modest. I prefer to call her Mod for short, and I suppose you could as well. She's just one of the many people who do not currently own a Kiamara.
Kia name:
I'm none other than Orchid Lullaby. I am pleased to meet you.
Kia name reason:
I am very fond of flowers. Orchids particularly prick my interest. I adore the sound of beautiful lullabies. Some may be sad, and some may be happy - yet, as long as they're unique and special, I don't mind either way. I count poems as songs too, and so I have a poetic heart. I quite like the ring to my name.
Kia nickname:
Please, just call me Orchid, as most others do. I will simply not respond to any other nicknames. Calling me by my real name is fine by me as well.
Kia gender:
Pfft! Do you really think of me as any other gender than female? How rude.
Personality:
Well, if you really are so curious, I shall tell you. I'm considered the calm and friendly type - just as long as you don't say anything too idiotic to me. I enjoy conversing with close friends and family rather than strangers, like most others prefer. I become timid and slightly frightened when being put on the spot. You perhaps do not, but I consider myself as intelligent. I always try to find 'spicy' words to replace 'bland' ones. I am a neat freak and am constantly organizing and cleaning. I may seem serene and graceful, but really, I'm clumsy - or that's how I see myself as, anyway.
Companion:
My companion, if you wish to know, is none other than an indigo bunting bird. She's very intelligent and her name is Lyric Rose (yes, another music/flower related name) but I call her Lyric. She is probably the closest to a best friend for me.
Last edited by cmichb on Sun Sep 29, 2013 2:37 pm, edited 9 times in total.
hi n' stuff.
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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby Ƥɛтαℓƨ » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:07 pm

RESERVE
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Character Page
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Looking for roleplays for Loafer
I would like to develop him further as my main
character. Let me know if your interested!
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Mocking The Mockingbird - Moving Post to Site

Postby Pine. » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:07 pm

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I was always too occupied. Occupied with being alone. Occupied with my work. Occupied with birds.

I had no want nor need for friends. All I needed was my work. It is everything to me. The scent of musty books covering my workshop, of fresh parchment uncurling in the window sill, of ink and grease both spilt on the floor, and of feathers and mechanical things, that was my home. Making nests within the stacks upon stacks of literature, some written by myself, I worked and toiled late into the nights and into the early beams of mornings.
Last edited by Pine. on Sun Oct 20, 2013 6:04 am, edited 9 times in total.
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No longer on chickensmoothie, please contact me via deviantart

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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby cece. » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:08 pm

      Nope, nope, can't do it vuv
      No matter how hard I try I won't win him. Oh well, good luck you guys! c: ♥
Last edited by cece. on Mon Sep 09, 2013 4:39 am, edited 14 times in total.
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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby Novi » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:10 pm

reserved ouo
name; Philomena Avis.
Last edited by Novi on Tue Sep 10, 2013 1:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Now that the existential crisis has passed, I'm not leaving! Sorry for the momentary scare, folks!
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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby mango sherbet » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:11 pm

marking so i can get to it easily, but not trying out :> will be helping pine
more or less quit cs, you can contact me through:
deviantart - username: mango-sherbet
ask.fm - username: mangusherbet
tumblr - url: yitzbecca

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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby freckledfangirl » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:12 pm

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► Username;; magic;
► Name;; Pépiement
► Reason for name;; Pépiement is a cute name to me, and it means "Chirp/Chirping" in French. And my grandmother/ best friend died in 2012, so this kiamara really connects to me because when I see a feather, it makes me think of her.
► Nicknames;; Pép
► Gender;; Female.
► Why Female;; I can never EVER see this beautiful kiamara as a boy.


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► Personality;;
▸ Smart;
▸ Calm;
▸ Quiet;
▸ Giggly;
▸ Bubbly;
▸ Confident;

► Poem;; You dark in light so shine bright
let your heart lead you
let go of your worries
be proud of who you are for who you are
live life in happiness
feel the joy and magic around you
step forward and be yourself
be happy when your sad
be strong when your weak
be exited rather than worried
be observant rather than annoyed
you will reach the top of all your thoughts and dreams
know there is nothing that will ever stop you from finding out who you are.

- Feather, by Emerald Sapani

► Song;;
Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always some reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memories seep from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of the angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here

so tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lies
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

in the arms of the angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here

- Angel, Sarah McLachlan


► Story;;
Once upon a time, there was once a guy who was very much in love with this girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of papercranes as a gift to his girl. Although, at that time he was just a small executive in his company, his future doesn't seemed too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualise any future for the both of them, so let's go their own ways there and then... heartbroken, the guy agreed.

When he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself. Finally with all these hardwork and with the help of friends, this guy had set up his own company...

"You never fail until you stop trying." he always told himself. "I must make it in life!"
One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn't take him long to realise those were his ex-girlfriend's parents. With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn't the same anymore, he had his own company, car, condo, etc. He had made it in life!

Before the guy can realise, the couple was walking towards a cemetary,and he got out of his car and followed them...and he saw his ex-girlfriend, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone... and he saw his precious papercranes in a bottle placed beside her tomb. Her parents saw him. He walked over and asked them why this had happened. They explained, she did not leave for France at all. She was stricken ill with cancer. In her heart, she had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want her illness to be his obstacle ... therefore she had chosen to leave him.

She had wanted her parents to put his papercranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again he can take some of those back with him. The guy just wept ...the worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them but knowing you can't have them and will never see them again.
The End."

A tragic story that perhaps happens only in the movies. At the end of the day, money is money is money but love is divine. In our quest for our material wealth, take time to make time for our loved ones. There will be a time when we have only memories to cling to.
Take this weekend to show our "love" to all that are close to us.

- Story name and writer are unknown.




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About Me;; Hello there, fellow reader! My name is Pépiement, my name means "Chirp/Chirping" in French. I love my name, really I do! You can call me Pép. I was born in a nest, frankly it does sound wierd but don't mention it to me, as I was bullied because of it. So I was born in a nest, the first thing I saw was my [url]mother's[/url] beautiful, beaming face. And then I heard this faint pitiful chirp, so sad yet glorious. I turned my head to see a lovely little gray/blue bird laying next to me. I quickly found out it had just fallen from 5 branches up and it was deeply hurt. It's pearly black eyes looked up at me, and it turned to the side to show me it's broken wing. I wanted to help that bird so badly, yet I no idea how to nor the words to ask with! My mother reached to pick the bird up, and I started crying. Soon she found out I loved that bird and I wanted to help. So my mother picked my up by my scruff and hopped down the tree gracefully, surprisingly tho she had just given birth to me.
Last edited by freckledfangirl on Tue Sep 10, 2013 9:02 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby LoneWolf. » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:13 pm



































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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❝ No one is free, even the birds are
chained to the
sky.

~ Bob Dylan


» The Interview


Deep in the forest, a rustling of leaves can be heard. Above, the moon shines brightly. A male kiamara is seen, making his way through the snow and ice. He looks to be searching for something-- or somebody-- but cannot find a trace of anyone or anything. He starts walking faster, picking up speed to a trot, a run. As he does so, he skids across a slick patch of ice. Slipping away, he falls straight onto his face. After a minute of laying in the snow, caught in a daze, he stands uncertainly, shakes himself off.

The kiamara is illuminated briefly by the moonlight, before clouds roll over the sky and block out the light. He appears very confused, lost even, and seems to be studying something tied around his neck. The thing looks to be a puzzle piece.

On the back of the puzzle piece, a signature spells out the words Foster, Inc. The kia reads the words, mutters them to himself. "Foster Ink?"

He gives a slight nod, as if answering his own question. Slowly, he begins walking.
Where?
Even he doesn't know.


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A female kiamara stands in a moonlit clearing, listening to the sound of pawsteps and swishing undergrowth. Suddenly, she perks her ears up, and takes a tentative step forward. Another kiamara pokes it's head out of the bushes, only it's snout and eyes visible. The female jumps, surprised from the sudden appearance of someone else.

"Wh--what. . ." Avalon's voice trailed off as she stared at the kiamara emerging from the plants.

The male looks at her, then tilts his head. He doesn't respond.

"What are you doing here, in the middle of the night?" Avalon finally regained her voice after a few seconds of silence.

The light blue kiamara takes another moment to respond. "What are you doing out in the middle of the night?" He mutters.

Avalon huffs. "Following your scent. I wanted to know where you were going this late."

"Oh." He shuffled his feet. Instead of answering her previous question, he glances downn at the puzzle piece around his neck and murmurs, "I'm Foster."

Avalon sighs. "Okay, Foster. I'm Avalon. But you still didn't answer my question."

Foster was quiet. Seconds later, he says, "I can't remember." He sounded somewhat ashamed.

Avalon frowns. A look of concern crosses her face. "Why not. . . ?"

"I. . . don't know." He looked like the most sad thing in the world right then, confusion, sadness, and a little bit of fear all mixed in his eyes.

A cloud that was covering the moon drifts away with a gust of wind. The ray of moonlight that now shrouds the two kiamaras illuminate their features a lot better than previously.

Now that she could see better, Avalon examined the kia standing across from her. Foster had long, strange horns-- almost like antlers. His feathers were long and golden, just like his horns. Around his horns and at the base of his tail, beads were tied to him by strings. He was slightly smaller than the normal male kiamara, though not by much. His mane fell in front of his eyes, and along his neck and back. Though the strangest thing on him, by far, was the thing tied around his fluffy neck.

A blue puzzle piece, with the image of a bird flying away on it.

While she watched him, Foster watched her. She was the size of a normal female kiamara, and had strange charms tied to her tail. He didn't ask about them, knowing that he wouldn't want someone asking him about his things.


Avalon begins talking again as the moment passes. "Why don't you know?" She whispers.

"I. . . " His voice gets quieter as he goes on, "I have. . . memory loss problems. . . amnesia. . ."

Avalon blinked. She decides to ask him questions, hoping to trigger something of his memory. Glancing at him once more, she asks, "Why do you have those beads?"

Foster, not wanting to answer, frowns at her. Though unwillingly, he admitted, "I tie them to me when I want to remember something. But. . . I can't remember what I wanted to remember."

Avalon sighs. This didn't help her much. "Okay, well. . . Your horns. Anything you remember about them? Why they are. . . like that?"

Foster immediately replies, "My father had horns like this."

For someone with amnesia, he sure does remember a lot, Avalon thinks. Another gust of wind blows by, catching Foster's long hair and making it flow. "What about your mane? Why is it long?"

"I don't cut it," Foster says simply, not looking at her.

Avalon sighs. "Anything else you remember about any of those?"

Foster shakes his head. "No, I-I'm sorry. . ."

Avalon's gaze fell to the puzzle piece once more. "Why do you have a puzzle piece tied to you?" She asks, very curious.

Foster frowns, thinking back. His mind seems like a vast empty space, devoid of any memory that related to a puzzle piece tied to his paw. Some small memories, like that of the beads tied around his tail, seem to float to the top of his mind. . . and yet others, stuck below an unbreakable water's surface, where he can see but not touch. They remain just out of his reach.

"I don't know."


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» About Me


My name is LoneWolf., and I am the owner of three kiamaras-- Flynn, Briana, and Benjamin. I love them all to death, and have been looking for a new kiamara to bring into my little family for quite some time. But I wasn't looking for just any kiamara. No, it had to be one that fit the kia I had in my mind-- one perfect for the role of Foster. This kiamara is it. This kiamara is Foster. And no other will ever be-- even if I don't win. Especially if I don't win. For when I think of Foster, I will always think of this beauty right here.
My baby.
My heart.
My dream.


» The Simple Things


» Name ;;
Foster Ink

» Birthname ;;
Aiden

» Age ;;
4 (kiamara years), 21 (human years)

» Father ;;
Orpheus (whereabouts unknown)

» Mother ;;
Artemis (whereabouts unknown)

» Siblings ;;
Lucas (deceased)

» Fears ;;
Foster has a terrible fear that he will forget all the ones that he loves. Including his mom, brother, father and friends. He knows his memory of them is fading and hates to think that one day the friendly faces he once knew will just become empty grey faces.
He also has a strange fear of birds. He believes that the birds will take all his friends and family away from him and leave. This is mostly because of the lies his mother told him when he was a little kid.

» Dreams;;
Even though he knows it will never come true, he wishes that his amnesia will go away and he will remember all the things he forgot.

» Likes & Dislikes ;;
Foster loves puzzles. Not just jigsaw puzzles, but other kinds too-- crosswords, word searches, even sudoku. It keeps his mind off of things and gives him something to do.
He also likes solitude, preferring to be alone than with others.
Foster dislikes change-- hates it (with a burning passion). It's the reason he doesn't cut his hair, doesn't move his beads, and keeps the puzzle piece on him at all times.


» On the Outside


Image


A kiamara stands in front of you. He holds himself uncertainly, although you wonder why. He has overly large horns, more like antlers than any other horns you have seen on a kia before. Beads hang from them and his tail. He isn't very muscular, nor big. A single, silver piercing rests in his ear. A puzzle piece, light blue in color, is tied to him, hanging just in front of his chest. You see the outline of a bird in flight painted on it. It looks like there were other birds in the puzzle as well, from the cut off images of birds wings on the piece.
You begin to wonder about that kia.


» Digging Deeper


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» Forgetful
Foster, well. . . forgets things. One might refer to him as an amnesiac. He has trouble remembering specific things, and yet other things come with ease. In the past, he has tried many different things to try and make himself remember, but has since started to give up hope that his memory will ever be as good as others'.

» Awkward & Social Outcast
For a lack of a better word, you could say that Foster is awkward. He doesn't quite know how to talk to others or socialize in general. It is hard for him to understand jokes and knowing the social rules of conversation. This is mostly due to the fact that he is autistic.
Autism is a disorder that can affect people in many different ways, and sometimes in ways that aren't that very obvious. Foster is lower on the austism spectrum, having Asperger syndrome.
I find this to be an accurate and a good source of basic information if you want to know more about autism.

» Curious
Foster is quite curious. He is always sticking his nose in everything and trying to find out what things mean. This can become problematic, as it can for most anyone. But for him, it can be confusing, as he forgets why he is examining things in the first place.
» Hates change
Sameness is something Foster is quite thankful for. When things have been the same for awhile, Foster doesn't have as much trouble remembering them. And yet, change? Change is one of the few things Foster despises. It confuses him, makes him even more forgetful than normal. He wishes that nothing ever had to change, that things could just always be the same.

» Softspoken
When Foster does get enough courage to start up a conversation, he is very soft spoken. He doesn't say much, and what he does say never does reveal much about him. He may strike others as being secretive and seclusive because of this-- although it is mostly because he cannot think of anything to say, even when he knows he wants to say something.

» Naïve
Foster is quite innocent and doesn't truly understand many things. His judgement is not the best, either. A lot of this is due to his forgetful nature, however.


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» Stories of the Past


I gasped, then laid down in the snow. Curled up next to my dear son.
I couldn't leave him here. I would have to stay here with him. He needed me so much more than Aiden did now.
Our bodies were cold as the ice. My eyes grew heavy and I found it hard to stay awake. But I needed to hold on. Hold on to a long lost memory, one to be my last.
Instantly I thought of my first son. Smaller and warmer than the one beside me now.
My perfect newborn son. His small blue body which mirrored my blue eyes curled against my silver fur. The thought of him brought tears to my eyes. I wiped them away with my paw and focused on the thought of my baby.
His markings barely developed yet so beautiful. A dark blue mane like his father's, then a wing-like marking that stretched across his shoulders and down his back. Much like mine. Though he was a bit smaller than most new borns, Orpheus and I were proud of our new child.
I took a pause from my reminiscing to wrap my tail tight around my son, still beside me. I was cold, and I knew he must be too. I wondered for a moment why .
My thoughts drifted back to my other son. Aiden. That's what we decided to call him. Named after his grandfather on my side which was a tradition in our family.
Even as a young child, we knew he was different. He was. . . slower than most. Not any less smart, he just took much longer to learn things. And. . . he forgot the things he did learn.
I cringed a little. Not because of Aiden-- no, never because of him. He's perfect. I cringed because, even when this didn't matter to me. . . it mattered to Orpheus. It was the reason he left us, the reason I became a single mother caring for two children.
Two children. Lucas was my second. Born not long after my first. And he was beautiful, too. He looked more like his father than me, though with startling eyes. He always had beautiful eyes.
I looked to my side, hoping to see those eyes. But Lucas had his head turned away from mine, burying his face in his own fur.
It reminded me of Aiden, how he would always sleep like that.
Aiden. He was truly confused when his father left. He didn't understand why he had chosen to go away, run off. And he kept forgetting he had, so I had to keep telling him. And he'd always ask, "Why, mommy? Where did daddy go?"
I felt so terrible lying to that innocent face.
But he didn't understand the truth, would never understand the truth.
So I came up with a lie. During the summer, when the birds lived and thrived in the forest we called home, I would always feed them. Orpheus and I would toss them seeds from the fruits we ate, sometimes chunks of the fruits themselves. Then by winter's arrival, we would watch the birds fly away, heading south towards the warmer weathers.
So I told him.
"Your father followed the birds when they went south for the winter."
He believed me, like I knew he would.
But I felt guilty anyway.

I wanted to do something. Something to help Aiden remember things. In the back of my mind, I knew it wouldn't work-- all the professionals said there was no way to make him remember the things he forgot. Only he would be able to conjure up the lost memories. But I felt like I at least had to try.
And so I did. I bought a puzzle, a medium-sized one of about 500 pieces. The image was of a snowy cliff surrounded by pine trees covered in ice, overlooking a group of birds flying into the distance.
I had a plan. I would do the puzzle with Aiden once every month. And hopefully, as he did the puzzle, he would remember doing it the month before. And if he remembered doing it the month before, then maybe he would remember all the other things he had forgotten he had done.
But it seemed evident my attempt had not worked only a few months later. Because every time, at the beginning of each month, when I showed him the puzzle and told him we should work on it and finish it before the month ended. . .
he didn't remember doing it ever before. It was just as challenging for him as it had been the first time he did it.
But I didn't stop, didn't get discouraged. I continued with the puzzle, even tried some other tactics. Whenever he had to remember something, I'd give him some of the beads I liked to wear in my mane and tell them to tie them to himself. That way, whenever he saw he was wearing the beads, he'd know he had forgotten something.
That plan worked at times, although, as far as I could tell, did nothing in the long run.

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Even though Aiden was different, I began to notice he was making some friends. They all seemed nice enough. Xavier and Ethan seemed to be what you might call his best friends. Lucas liked them, too. If Aiden couldn't play with them for any reason, Lucas would always take his place. At times I wondered if Lucas was better friends with them than Aiden was.
But while Aiden remained unchanging-- he hated change, and to me it seemed as if he was purposely keeping himself from developing further than he already had-- his friends didn't. Ethan got into trouble with other kiamaras often, and Xavier followed after him. My Aiden never went to cause any trouble with them, and that led to a gap forged between him and his friends. Once, however, he did give in to Ethan's demands. Ethan told him that he should get a piercing, it would look 'cool'. So Aiden got one silver piercing in his left ear, and everyone who saw him with it laughed. But he had no idea they were laughing at him, only with him. I tried to tell him to not wear it, that people would make fun of him, but he told him it made him look 'cool' and he didn't want to take it off.
Xavier and his family moved away from the area not long after this. Aiden kept forgetting he was gone, just like he had with his father. I told him that lie once again, because he kept asking me why he left him, as if Xavier had a say in the matter. As if Xavier left because he didn't want to be around Aiden anymore. Just like Orpheus.
"He chased the birds south, followed them away."
Aiden believed me once again, and this time I didn't feel so guilty.
Ethan confronted Aiden a few days after Xavier left. He came home to me, sobbing. He wouldn't tell me what Ethan said. From what I could figure, Aiden and him were no longer friends. Perhaps they had even become enemies.
While all this was going on, I noticed Lucas seemed to be changing.
He still hung out with Ethan, even though he had upset Aiden. Even though he teased other kiamaras his age and disobeyed the ones older than him. At times when Aiden was doing his puzzle with me, he would stare over at him. Watch me tell him where to put the pieces he was having trouble with. His gaze was as sharp as any blade. It confused me, as he had always gotten along with his brother. I decided to talk to him that night.
But I never got the chance.
Right before sunset, as Aiden worked on his puzzle and I sat behind him, watching intently, something inside Lucas snapped. He was merely sitting off to the side, glaring daggers at the puzzle we were working on, when he stood up and snarled.
"Why does he get all the attention? He's not special, he can barely even remember his own name!" He growled, annoyance, anger, and something more that I couldn't quite place shining in his eyes. I think it might have been desperation. "Lucas," I said, my tone calm with a hint of sadness. "You need too--"
"I don't need to do anything you say," my second son muttered, striding towards the puzzle Aiden had spent all month working on.
With one swipe of his front paw, Lucas had wiped out all the work Aiden had put into the puzzle. And, as if that wasn't enough, he grabbed a puzzle piece from what used to be an almost complete puzzle. "Now you can never finish it," he hissed under his breath. And then, before either me or Aiden could do a thing about it, Lucas had turned tail and ran.
Ran away and never looked back.

That's when I noticed Aiden had. . . shifted. He seemed more quiet, less talkative. Not that he had been talkative in the first place, but I usually was able to get at least one conversation out of him a day. But by then, he just plain wasn't talking. Not even trying to communicate. Sometimes I thought he might be scared of others. He didn't seem to be making friends-- although I didn't blame him, after the mess with his old ones.
I continued with the puzzle, although now it was less to help him remember things and more for his enjoyment. He had taken a liking to the activity, and it seemed to be one of the only things he would ever do nowadays.
He kept asking me where the last piece to the puzzle was, though.
I didn't bother lying to him. I merely shrugged.
Saying the puzzle piece chased the birds seemed a bit too farfetched.

My eyes drifted open and I realized I had fallen asleep. Glancing at my side, I see Lucas still lays there, asleep. A light dusting of snow covers his body, and I sweep it off with my tail. I feel so cold, but somehow I'd made it through the night. My thoughts drifted back to my memories of a time before now. . .

Aiden's memory did not get any better, and I had to continue reminding him where his father, friends, and brother had gotten off to. He still didn't question the answer I gave him. Which reminded me of how big he had gotten; he had grown to be a teenager. I felt so bad for lying to him all these years, and yet I still felt it beat the alternative. And as my son grew, I remembered something. . .
feathers.
But slowly, I felt myself becoming weaker. Not older, just not as strong. I felt tired more often, and I figured I was getting sick. Deciding I shouldn't put myself in any danger by going out and finding feathers, I sent Aiden to find his own. Told him they would me more special that way. So he ran off the next morning and told me he'd be back by the afternoon.
He came back to the den that evening with four light golden feathers in his jaws. I asked him where he got them.
"I chased the birds south, like all the rest."
He then smiled at me, and began to tie his new feathers to himself. He put them in the exact same spots I wore my feathers, though I didn't ask why.

Even though I had convinced myself I wasn't seriously ill, my body betrayed my thoughts. Aiden became very confused, not understanding my sickness or forgetting I wasn't as strong as I once was. He spent a lot of time away from home, too-- wandering around the forests, padding through the snowy fields. He had taken a liking to exploring. I wanted to go outside with him, go on walks, whatever I could, but feared tiring myself out.
That is, until the one day.
Aiden came home with a ghastly look on his face.
And 'round his neck was a puzzle piece.
The one Lucas had run away with.

Image

"Where did you get that?!"
"I found it, on the ground. It looked familiar. What is it?"
I ignored him, however guilty I felt doing so. I ran right past him, into the snow and trees, following his paw prints. I found where the puzzle piece had made a small imprint in the snow, where he had picked it up. I glanced around, hoping to find some sort of sign that my other son had been here. But he was no where to be found.
I hung my head and let the tears come, felt them stream down my face. They fell, but never hit the ground because they froze before they could.
I had finally given up. Sure, I had pretended like I had given up any hope of finding him long ago, but now I knew I was lying to myself. I had always felt that he must be somewhere. That I must find him eventually.

But now I had truly come to terms with the fact that I would never see my son again.
And by that, I mean now. Not Lucas-- Lucas was here beside me. But Aiden. I would never see him again.
Let me explain.
As that evening, when I sat sobbing over what I thought to be the last trace of my second born son, I c aught a scent on the breeze.
A scent I thought I'd never smell again.
Lucas.
I followed it quickly, and as I did snow began to fall lightly. I came upon a large boulder leaning against the slope of a hill. And resting in it's shadow was Lucas, curled up tight against the snow.

Dead.


» Art


» Drawings
The Missing Pieces by myself
Lost by little.
I Don't Know by myself
The puzzle piece by myself
Foster's emotions by myself
Confusion by myself
King of the Puzzle by little.
On a Snowy Evening by myself
Flying South by myself

» Writing
Wings
Shadows cast, long on the snow,
gliding silently, flying low.
The rustle of a feather tied to a paw,
echo through the ice and frost.
Bird's flying, cushioning air,
drawn on with great care.
A piece of the puzzle, tied on a string,
painted silhouettes, shadows, among other things--
though what matters are their wings.

Through My Eyes
Deep in my mind, I know something's wrong.
But I'd never admit it.
Sure, to myself, but not outside of that.
I keep it inside, contain it.
Just like my thoughts and feelings.
Because I know, even if I did try,
I'd never be able to explain it.
When I have tried to share what I feel,
the words just never come.
Rare is it that I ever do try, though,
because even if I did explain it
in a way that is clear as can be
no one would understand.

Puzzle
The pieces of me are falling apart
falling away, disappearing
and right now it seems
my life is a puzzle
that isn't worth putting together.



Image


And a big thank you to Downn and
Little. for all the help with Foster's story & poetry and the lovely art <3
Last edited by LoneWolf. on Tue Oct 15, 2013 2:53 am, edited 5 times in total.
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Hey! I'm Lone~ Feel free to pm me for commissions, art trades, or if you just wanna talk c:
[amazing pixel art of lone and parasite by pixiepup ]
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Re: Kiamara #350!

Postby peppermintleo » Sun Sep 08, 2013 2:13 pm

Dropping out due to my filled slots!
But I do love this Kia and Ill be following up on the winner!!!
Last edited by peppermintleo on Tue Sep 10, 2013 8:56 am, edited 3 times in total.
call me pure / he-him pronouns / transboy
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