Post by Mango on Apr 18, 2006 11:28:25 GMT -5
Name
Mango
Age
One year
Breed
None
Appearance
Mango was named for her bright, yellow-orange eyes. Her mother and father were tall dogs, but Mango didn't seem to inherit their height. She stands a bit shorter that a golden retriever her age. She has short, gray-brown fur and a slender figure, better for speed than strength. Her nose is not black, but the same color as her fur. Her paws are large, indicating that might grow some more in the future.
Personality and History
When Mango was young, she was like all other puppies: curious, eager, and silly. She lived with her mother, father, and six den-mates, two of them being her brother and sister. As they grew older, her siblings followed her parents in becoming ambitious and, well, dog-like. Mango, however, never seemed to grow out of her puppy attitude. Playful and fun-loving, she would much rather engage a cat in a game of tag than try and eat it, as her brother would, or simply kill it, as her sister would. Worried about her development, her parents kicked her out of the pack a little earlier than they did her siblings.
If her parents hoped to make her more mature, they failed miserably. Mango remains silly and smart-mouthed, often getting into trouble for poking fun at "serious" situations. She never seems to learn that what she finds hilarious, others view as a big deal.
Mango is a very loyal dog. She doesn't like fighting at all, but if necessary she can hold her own. Though she is small and young, she is speedy and quick-minded. She tries to be kind and "help" others, though she generally does more harm than good. Over all, Mango still has a lot of growing to do.
Sample Post
It is difficult to tell exactly where it is that the jungle ends and the plains begin. At what could be considered the start of the edge, the trees begin to thin out, but slowly, and sometimes it's hard to tell because their trunks are so huge around they almost seem to be two trees. Their leaves are large, shading the forest floor, cutting through the sunlight and dappling the ground with shades of gold and green. Some of them span nearly six hands across, while others are barely the length of a finger nail. Some times translucent, it is difficult to tell what color they are on a bright day. They just look golden.
The plain is simply a flat collection of sand and grasses, dotted sometimes with bodies of water. The land spans farther than the eye can see, flat and gray-yellow-brown, sometimes dotted with green. There's is no place to hide in the flat, barren land. Bad for predators, good for prey. It is in this plane-like place that the two sides of the food chain come together in a truce. The predators usually do this reluctantly, and only because most of the prey is too large to tackle without the element of surprise. The natural enemies sometimes even play together, orientation on the greater scale forgotten when they disregard their ever-present hunger.
Between the endless plains and towering jungle, the the ferns have a region of their own. They don't begin to melt away into the plains until long after all the trees have disappeared. They grow thick and lush, fanning their parrot-green tendrils toward the sky. Their green is all consuming, drawing the eye with the vibrancy of the intense color. Even creatures that are bright red or orange can hide among the tall plants, for their plumage simply isn't as brilliant as that of the green. Near the jungle, the plants are thick; near the plains, they are thin. And in the middle they are someplace in between, perfect for eating, hiding, and watching.
Terra, at the moment, was doing all three.
The girl lay on her belly, legs folded behind her comfortably. Her feet were crossed in the air, swinging slowly back and forth in sleepy rhythm with her breath. Her round chin was balanced easily on her elbow, relaxed. The position was a restful one. Yet the curve of her shoulders suggested concentration, purpose.
Straight before her, barely a foot and a half away, an armored lizard stood sturdily on its four stubby legs. Terra was hidden, but she was sure the creature had glanced her way more than once. It didn't seem to mind her presence, however, and simply lazily chomped away at the ferns. It chewed slowly and deliberately, ignoring her completely as it concentrated on its task of devouring the entire jungle before. Terra could see why it was ignoring her. She posed no threat. The dinosaur's back was decorated with plates and spines of all colors between brown and gray. Though its belly was fleshy and vulnerable, it made up for the weakness with a tail topped with a killer club on the end. It was a strong formidable creature.
At the moment, though, it didn't look so threatening. Its tail club was lowered casually to the ground. It simply stood and munched, sometimes shuffling forward or sideways to reach other leaves. It rather reminded Terra of a cow. Huge and bulky, but sweet and cute.
Before the seventeen year old, a sketchbook was spread. A regular pencil was clutched loosely in her right hand, and the image on her paper reflected the scene before her. The dinosaur serenely chewing up half of the background, the ferns curling onto the page, the pale sky. Even her art bag was in the picture, set off to the side and hunched over beneath an arc of green.
She tried eating the ferns herself earlier, and found them tasting rather like lemon. She munched a tendril now, the long leaf sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Her pencil lightly danced across her paper as she tried to exactly copy the tiny eyes of the creature. Slowly, a small smile spread across her face. This was what she was born to do. The drawing calmed her. It felt like...
Home.
Mango
Age
One year
Breed
None
Appearance
Mango was named for her bright, yellow-orange eyes. Her mother and father were tall dogs, but Mango didn't seem to inherit their height. She stands a bit shorter that a golden retriever her age. She has short, gray-brown fur and a slender figure, better for speed than strength. Her nose is not black, but the same color as her fur. Her paws are large, indicating that might grow some more in the future.
Personality and History
When Mango was young, she was like all other puppies: curious, eager, and silly. She lived with her mother, father, and six den-mates, two of them being her brother and sister. As they grew older, her siblings followed her parents in becoming ambitious and, well, dog-like. Mango, however, never seemed to grow out of her puppy attitude. Playful and fun-loving, she would much rather engage a cat in a game of tag than try and eat it, as her brother would, or simply kill it, as her sister would. Worried about her development, her parents kicked her out of the pack a little earlier than they did her siblings.
If her parents hoped to make her more mature, they failed miserably. Mango remains silly and smart-mouthed, often getting into trouble for poking fun at "serious" situations. She never seems to learn that what she finds hilarious, others view as a big deal.
Mango is a very loyal dog. She doesn't like fighting at all, but if necessary she can hold her own. Though she is small and young, she is speedy and quick-minded. She tries to be kind and "help" others, though she generally does more harm than good. Over all, Mango still has a lot of growing to do.
Sample Post
It is difficult to tell exactly where it is that the jungle ends and the plains begin. At what could be considered the start of the edge, the trees begin to thin out, but slowly, and sometimes it's hard to tell because their trunks are so huge around they almost seem to be two trees. Their leaves are large, shading the forest floor, cutting through the sunlight and dappling the ground with shades of gold and green. Some of them span nearly six hands across, while others are barely the length of a finger nail. Some times translucent, it is difficult to tell what color they are on a bright day. They just look golden.
The plain is simply a flat collection of sand and grasses, dotted sometimes with bodies of water. The land spans farther than the eye can see, flat and gray-yellow-brown, sometimes dotted with green. There's is no place to hide in the flat, barren land. Bad for predators, good for prey. It is in this plane-like place that the two sides of the food chain come together in a truce. The predators usually do this reluctantly, and only because most of the prey is too large to tackle without the element of surprise. The natural enemies sometimes even play together, orientation on the greater scale forgotten when they disregard their ever-present hunger.
Between the endless plains and towering jungle, the the ferns have a region of their own. They don't begin to melt away into the plains until long after all the trees have disappeared. They grow thick and lush, fanning their parrot-green tendrils toward the sky. Their green is all consuming, drawing the eye with the vibrancy of the intense color. Even creatures that are bright red or orange can hide among the tall plants, for their plumage simply isn't as brilliant as that of the green. Near the jungle, the plants are thick; near the plains, they are thin. And in the middle they are someplace in between, perfect for eating, hiding, and watching.
Terra, at the moment, was doing all three.
The girl lay on her belly, legs folded behind her comfortably. Her feet were crossed in the air, swinging slowly back and forth in sleepy rhythm with her breath. Her round chin was balanced easily on her elbow, relaxed. The position was a restful one. Yet the curve of her shoulders suggested concentration, purpose.
Straight before her, barely a foot and a half away, an armored lizard stood sturdily on its four stubby legs. Terra was hidden, but she was sure the creature had glanced her way more than once. It didn't seem to mind her presence, however, and simply lazily chomped away at the ferns. It chewed slowly and deliberately, ignoring her completely as it concentrated on its task of devouring the entire jungle before. Terra could see why it was ignoring her. She posed no threat. The dinosaur's back was decorated with plates and spines of all colors between brown and gray. Though its belly was fleshy and vulnerable, it made up for the weakness with a tail topped with a killer club on the end. It was a strong formidable creature.
At the moment, though, it didn't look so threatening. Its tail club was lowered casually to the ground. It simply stood and munched, sometimes shuffling forward or sideways to reach other leaves. It rather reminded Terra of a cow. Huge and bulky, but sweet and cute.
Before the seventeen year old, a sketchbook was spread. A regular pencil was clutched loosely in her right hand, and the image on her paper reflected the scene before her. The dinosaur serenely chewing up half of the background, the ferns curling onto the page, the pale sky. Even her art bag was in the picture, set off to the side and hunched over beneath an arc of green.
She tried eating the ferns herself earlier, and found them tasting rather like lemon. She munched a tendril now, the long leaf sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Her pencil lightly danced across her paper as she tried to exactly copy the tiny eyes of the creature. Slowly, a small smile spread across her face. This was what she was born to do. The drawing calmed her. It felt like...
Home.