I just really like The Brobecks
✧✿ U s e r n a m e ;;
✿ N a m e ;;
foreign.potato
Vyra, commonly called Gazelle.
✿ S t o r y b o o k ;;
The small Kiamara stayed low to the ground, crawling silently through the brush. Leaves rustled slightly as she came out into the bright opening – and there, before her, was her palace. Rows and rows of beautiful cherry blossom trees lined her vision, this secret forest surrounded by the dense foliage of the green woodlands. A little stream bubbled around where the land rose up with a little hill in the middle, covered in pink blossoming trees. This was Vyra’s little special place. She assumed it was a privately owned garden, though she had never seen anyone else there. Gingerly she climbed up the path way, worn and rocky, and settled herself down in the notch of a cherry blossom’s roots. Thoughts about peace and serenity floated up, and her mind drifted softly among memories.
Rocks shifted in the stream nearby making a loud clapping noise, causing her to flinch and her large horns hit against the tree trunk. “Uuf, these horns” she said, rubbing her sore head, lied back down again, and was immersed suddenly into another memory –
The air seemed to prickle with electricity. Small paws and stocky legs, too excited to be contained, ran around the curb. Vyra’s mother said she could go to the first day of elementary school alone because she knew exactly where the building was, though little Vyra was not aware that her mother was slinking behind her protectively. The pup stared wide-eyed and beamed up at the building, inspected the sign trying to identify the letters, and adjusted her little backpack. Then charged in without another thought. Pups lined up in the hallways and were being placed in their new teacher’s rooms. She waited very impatiently, until finally she was, too. The classroom was large with various tables set up and multiple posters, crafts, and other things hung up along the walls. Their teacher was a soft brown, friendly looking woman who corralled the children to the tables. There were a couple of crafts and games to play, most of them with the intention of getting the pups to get to know each other. “My name is Vyra and I like vvv… vanilla cookies!” She squeaked as they circulated around the tables. Most of the pups repeated the same with their name and object, but one took her by surprise. “You have horns growing in already.” She looked up to see a colorful little boy Kia with a curious spark in his eyes. She patted her head and felt two little stubs, brought her hands down slowly, then looked around the room at the other pups’ heads.
“Oh.”
She bunched up her face a little with the memory, it was not her favorite. “Oh, the innocence of childhood” she said with a little sadness. Before she figured her horns were there she was a very fiery, witty, social little pup. Excited for new things and always wanting to be the center of attention. Now, little Vyra at the age of fifteen is quiet, defensive, and hidden. When others look at her, their eyes head straight to her odd horns – the shame she feels for her appearance is great because she is only a teenage Kia and already has a huge pair of horns. They even gifted her a nickname, "Gazelle."
She stood up to shake of the feelings, walked around the edge of the river for a little, then decided that her restless legs needed more activity. She headed up the hill toward the large blossoming tree in the middle. It was vast, the largest tree in the orchard. For whatever reason, Vyra needed to climb it. And so she did. Well, attempted. She clawed her way up to the first branch and was started for higher ones, but her large horns kept getting stuck with in the other tree limbs. Desperately she tugged at the branches to free herself, but her footing slipped and she slid off the branch, clenching her eyes closed. For a moment she felt herself bounce back up, weightless - as the tree branch her horns were caught in sustained her weight – but then she heard a cracking and she fell to the ground. Debris fell on top of her shortly after, luckily she was not hurt, just a bit resentful. She brushed off what she could, but the branch that lodged underneath her horns wasn’t budging. Vyra started for the shiny creek in hopes the reflection would help her get it off her head.
Softly padding up to the edge, she peeked over into the water. “Oh!” She pulled back with wide eyes. Slowly, she peeped back at the water again. “Woah!” She fell back on to her bum unsure of what to do. On top of her was a cherry tree branch, the flowers a bit tattered but otherwise really pretty, though on top of the branch is what caught her off guard. A small bird’s nest was between the branches and her horns, and inside one was little fluffy baby bird. Shock replaced with warmth, the little bird gave a chiming little peep, and Vyra saw that she couldn’t just put the nest back in the tree. For one, the branch was on her head, and two, the branch was stuck on her head. And… she had taken a liking to the little baby bird. The water mirrored her reflection as she looked in again, she saw the cherry blossoms curving around her long horns, and a baby Black Rosy-Finch nestled in is nest.
The little finch was stunning to Vyra. It mostly black feathers with a streak of pink on its wings and a gray cap – she adored the little creature. Not only that, but she felt a weight lift off of her mind. Her horns had found purpose. They could be looked at as… as an accessory. Decorated beautifully so that eyes would travel to them for reason.
A beaming smile slid across her face, a smile not seen in years.Exactly 998 words. ❤✧
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