[wayward will]

wire to hold her together
is actually a water nymph whose stream got filled in
wanders trying to find her old self/name
floaty bits are because she is falling apart without her stream

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[ D0B4A8---624E45---372821---3D5F61---74A6B1 ]

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➳ ＳＨＥ'Ｓ ＮＯ ＯＮＥ ＮＯＷ
ＮＯ ＯＮＥ ＡＴ ＡＬＬ
name • chanetai----gender • female----
meaning • 'lost'----age • unknown
ＢＵＴ ＭＡＹＢＥ ＳＨＥ ＣＯＵＬＤ

ＬＥＡＲＮ ＴＯ ＢＥ ＡＧＡＩＮ

❝You never realize how much you need something...❞

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Ｌ
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❤

ＣＡＲＥ ＴＯ ＨＥＡＲ ＨＥＲ ＳＴＯＲＹ ?

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❝...Until you lose it forever.❞


[ # words]

Chanetai was her name. The name of the small, trickling stream that wound through the small woodland. To be fair, it wasn't really her, per se, but she was the spirit of it. Chanetai was what you might call a nymph, or a spirit, or a fairy.
But than they came. People came. They dammed her at her source, a small lake, and her stream ran dry.
And than she forgot. She forgot her name, what she was, who she was.

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ＳＨＥ ＬＯＳＴ ＨＥＲ ＯＷＮ ＩＤＥＮＴＩＴＹ

Font credit

[ayomi]

res <33

[Eeveeprincess01]

OhmyBillressohard
Most likely with the name Pyramus

[Shandelion.]

Probable reserve.. I'll see..

Ideas:

1. Agender
2. Asexual
3. Demi-panromantic
4. Mute
5. Social anxiety?
6. Anti-social.. definitely
7. Still need to think up more disorders etc
8. Bitter
9. Hateful

[goneleft]

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Art here.

╭.......................╮

Name:
Caillte
Meaning:
'Lost' in Gaelic
Gender:
Female
Orientation:
Straight

╰.......................╯

╔...............╗
Caillte..
Once a friendly foxer. Lovely, soft fur, and she was playful. Always getting tangled in roles and string, mewling helplessly, until someone helped her out.
The good ol days. But what happened after? How did she escape, and look like a mess?
My friends, now, I'll tell you her story.
╚...............╝

Caillte. She was named because when she was younger, and a small kitten, she always seemed lost, even at her mother's side. Always trying to adventure, and looking around at things with awe.
Short story 1
The finding of Caillte.
Short stories go here.
Caillte was found, by three young human children. They cared for her, treated her well, and kept her like a barn cat. But when she was young, she would sleep with them. Always cuddled up, and switched around with each child the next night, until she had to get up, talk to the animals, and swat at mice. Nice life, it was. Very nice.
When all of it happened, Caillte was only a year old. Barely enough time to survive, though she had a knack at helping herself. She was lost. How it all happened..
After staying with them for a long time, she would set out, and away. One day, she became lost. Lost, and scared. Climbing the fence, she wanted to see outside of the farm. I guess her compulsive side took over.
As she went, and left, the foxer searched, and searched.

₪
Callite is very soft. She's quiet, of course. Very unique. Though she does not speak, do not just take her for a ratty foxerfly. She is more cunning and deceiving then you'd think. A lot think she's naive, but she really isn't. Always playing dumb, or soft, or just.. quiet. So of course, she has the 'surprise' attack. Shunning most out with her brick-walls, covered in steel, Callite is not one to trust at all. Barely, in fact. She can't make herself trust anyone. Always being hostile, and ready to lash out is a downpoint, but sometimes it had saved her life. If you do be nice to her, kind to her, and calm, she will maybe begin to trust you. Maybe.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

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Text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text. text.

[mlm+acc]

mark

[Valute]

Res res res
Crosses are my weakness >~<

[fallen.galaxy]

res

[Spaceeboyyy]

Hello, I'm Filika //a non-owner//. I've taken a great interest in this foxerfly--she's beautiful! She looks like she has a dark past, and I want to crack into her history.

"Hello there," I murmur, softly, calmly.
She bares her teeth and growls, her tail tucked and her ears flat against her head. "I promise I won't hurt you," I tell her.
She continues to growl. I don't worry about her biting, for she has wires wrapped around her snout. I can see them digging into the flesh. They look painful, but I can't remove them until she lets me. I reach into my backpack, pulling out a small brown bag. I pull out a slice of apple, and leave it on the ground in front of her, backing off. She relaxes a bit when I step away, but I can tell she's still on edge. She takes a small step forwards, smelling at the air. She takes anther step, cautiously lowering her head to eat the apple piece. "You like that?" I ask her.
Her head snaps up, and she watches my every move. "More?" she asks weakly.
I happily oblige, giving her the remaining apple slices that were in the bag. She tries to eat another, and pulls to hard on the string around her muzzle. "Here, let me help," I say calmly.
She flattens her ears, but steps closer, allowing me to cut the wire. She backs away as soon as she is free, and proceeds to eat the apple slices. She finishes them, licking the apple juice off her fur. "What do you want from me?" she growls.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"My name is Mars," she says, sitting down in front of me.
She watches me distrustfully with weary eyes. "What in the world happened to you?" I inquire.
"Why should I tell you?" She snaps.
"Oh, um, sorry," I tell her.
"I was chased," she says. "They wanted to capture me. I didn't like them."
"Who was chasing you?"
“Some people with cages and traps. I think they wanted to keep me as a pet. I ran into one of their wire traps while fleeing them,” she tells me.
“Why didn't you like them?” I question
“What, is this an interview?” she barks. “They hurt me. My wings no longer work because of them. Flying is not a thing I am capable of anymore.”
I look at her with sympathy. The poor thing!
“I don't want your pity,” she growls. “I can see it all over your face—it's sickening.”
She tucks her tail and flattens her ears once more.
“What happened to your tail?” I ask her, just now noticing the lack of fur that most other foxer's tails have.
“Most of the fluff got caught in the wires and got torn. Are you done asking questions yet?”
I step away from her, smiling. “Yes, thank you. I have more apples hidden somewhere, if you want to come with me.”
I can tell she's pondering it. “Well, if you have apples...” she says, standing up and stretching.

════════════╗
Mars
╚════════════


╔═══════════════════════════════════════╗
Personality

>> Shy <<
Mars was abused as a younger foxer. As a result, she doesn't
trust anyone. She generally avoids everyone, in fear of being
hurt.
>> Sarcastic <<
Mars never passes up an opportunity to make fun of others. She
loves making sarcastic comments, and she's quite good at it.
>> Playful <<
Once Mars truly trusts someone, she's quite talkative and
humorous around them. Very few get that close to her, though.
>> Mysterious <<
Because her past was so difficult, she tries to avoid thinking
about it. If you ask her about her past, she wont answer, simply
because she doesn't want lost memories to resurface.
>> Creative <<
Mars is quite a problem solver. She likes to think outside the
box, and she likes to stand out. She hates copying others.
>> Independent <<
Mars hates having to rely on others. She hates the feeling of
being helpless, so she rejects help from others as much as
possible.
╚═══════════════════════════════════════╝


╔═══════════════════════════════════════════
Quirks

>>Asexual<<
Mars doesn't like anyone, and probably never will.
Some might argue she just hasn't found the one yet,
But Mars doesn't think there is anyone out there for her.
>>Magnetic<<
Like, literally magnetic. She has an unusually high amount
of iron in her, most of which is concentrated in her wing. Nobody
knows quite how this developed on such a large scale, mostly
because Mars refuses to let anyone touch the damaged wing.
The iron in her blood allows the damaged bits of wing to float,
however. It she comes within close range of an outside magnet,
it will interfere with her wings and cause her discomfort.
═══════════════════════════════════════════╝


If I were to win this beautiful foxer, I would love her to death. I don't currently own any foxers so she would be my first. I'd probably roleplay with her, and draw her tons. Thank you for reading and considering my form--I appreciate it! C:

[CorruptedPuppet]

Res