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 Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 10:07 am
I'm a little butter- wait, what's that? Username: Kareswynn Pixie's Name: Tarantella, “But you can call me Tara.” Note: A Tarantella is a type of Italian folk dance, known for its fast, upbeat tempo and traditional tambourine accompaniment. The music reminded me a bit of a butterfly flitting about and I thought it matched the naïve and happy-go-lucky, but determined nature of the youngest herd leader. Personality: Optimistic Tara is well aware that she is the youngest of the herd leaders and some days, that thought absolutely terrifies her. Not that she would ever say so, unless it was to her closest of confidants. As is typical of her breed, she was once very flighty and a bit of a bubble-nugget; her head always in the clouds and her hooves never on the ground. Her happy world came crashing down around her in a nasty onslaught of reality, however, when her mother and older sister were killed in swift succession. Suddenly, all responsibility for the herd was on Tara’s tiny shoulders. Tara’s mother was the herd leader, a kind mare with infinite patience. She had a gift; a way about her that fostered patience and benevolence in those around her. Unlike many Pixies, she was not easily distracted by trivial things, although perhaps this was because of her experience. Tara’s sister had this same gift and was being groomed to be the next herd leader. Tara herself was never expected to bear the same responsibilities and due to lack of foresight was never taught the duties that are now needed of her. Although, as the daughter of the Pixie Queen, she knows the herd well and is liked and trusted by many. As a foal, it was always instilled into her by her father of all people, to never give up and always look for the bright side in any situation. This determination and optimism is perhaps her greatest asset as a leader. Since becoming leader, Tara has mellowed out greatly from the flighty filly she was before, but she has never lost her jaunty optimism and happy attitude. She will never be her mother or sister and she knows this. She just gives her all and hopes that her best is good enough for the herd that she loves with all of her being. Prompt Response:Quote: A small, brown hoof pawed nervously at the ground. Today was the day. Today, young Tarantella would be meeting with the leaders of the other Usdia clans. It was to be her first official act as the new leader of her herd, something of a presentation to the other leaders. Fear welled up inside her as the proverbial butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She knew a little about the other leaders, just enough to intimidate her and not nearly enough to reassure her. Rampant thoughts raced through the little mare’s mind; images of the Imp leader chasing her with sparkstones, trying to singe her wings, or the Minicorn leader poking at her with her horn, or the Quilin twins finishing each other’s sentences, each word a jab at Tara’s inadequacies. Worst of all, the Nymph mare, the oldest and perhaps wisest of all the leaders, declaring her unfit to lead her people. None of this was remotely true of course, and Tara knew this, but fear left unchecked fosters festering thoughts. The little mare was glad she was alone as tears pricked at her eyes; she wished her mother and sister were here. The memories of them, alive, living and laughing with her were still so fresh in her mind. So tangible were they, Tara thought that if she turned around, they might be there, waiting behind her, supporting her. If they were here, she wouldn’t have to do this. If they were here, she could do this. Her throat burned and a tiny, pitiful sob threatened to escape, but Tara swallowed it back and shook her head franticly; she couldn’t do this! A small sound stopped her thoughts cold. A little jingle. Tara looked down and spotted the golden bell hanging from her neck by a pink, gossamer scarf. It had been a gift from her sister. ”For me?” Tara’s blue eyes widened to the size of saucers as she looked at the gold bell in wonder; completely captivated by the shiny trinket.
Her big sister, Carola, nodded as she fastened the little ornament to her sister’s neck. “It reminds me of you. Tiny. Bright. Happy. In the sun, it shines more brightly than anything, but in the darkness, that’s when it is the most beautiful.”
The little brown filly wrinkled her nose in confusion.
Carola’s smile was bright, but gentle. “Even when you can’t see the shine, you can still hear the music and know that everything is going to be okay.”Tara hadn’t understood those words at the time, but now… now she knew what they meant. She lowered her head, ashamed that she’d nearly given in to fear, but as she looked down, she saw little purple flowers blooming all around her hooves. Forget-me-nots. This was the power of her people. Her people. Even with her mother and sister gone, Tara was surrounded by those who supported and loved her. Their optimism and patience was the reason she was here. Yes, she was afraid, but she also had faith and her people had faith and she wouldn’t let them down. Like a small flame, courage burned in her chest and she lifted her head. She was ready to meet the other leaders, as equals. And just like that, hope bloomed inside her.
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Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 2:09 pm
I'm a little butter- wait, what's that?
Username: vballlvr5
Pixie's Name: Freya: Goddess Of Love, Fertility And Beauty
Personality: Freya is spunky and spontaneous. A friendly and down to earth leader she always has time to speak with those that she leads. She is often welcome to advice but will not allow herself to be made a puppet because of her youth. After her mother's death she became more of leadership material but hasn't let go of her fun spirited side. She is the poster child of free spiritedness.
Prompt Response:
Tendrils of memory floated towards Freya's mind, which was so often full of rainbows and butterflies, stars and lullaby's, as she approached the leader's of the other mini's. The previous leader of the Pixies was Freya's mother who had retired abruptly, seemingly because of old age. Though, those near Amaya knew well and good that that wasn't the case. Freya chose to remain oblivious to her mother's condition and remained her usual peppy, carefree self. It seemed to many that Freya should become the new leader as she was the only child of Amaya, but many doubted Freya's ability to lead. She was considered too young, ungrounded and a bit petty, foolish, and vain. Not only did she not seem to have many qualities needed to be a leader she didn't seem overly concerned with who would take the position her mother recently vacated. The pixies were concerned she wouldn't make a fitting leader, so several more candidates were nominated to possibly lead. The five candidates were put to many tests and trials in various ways. During this time the ex-leader's advisor took charge and carried the burden of leading his people onto his shoulders. Despite the other well qualified pixies having as a great as chance as attaining the position of leader, Freya was unperturbed and carried on in her youthful and naive ways.
Freya stumbled as her hoof slid into a small hole in the ground that had been concealed by a dark green patch of moss. One of her fellow mini leaders called over to her to ask if she was alright. From where she stood it was impossible to tell which leader had called but the deep voice was distinctly male and had a ringing sound to it as it echoed in her small ears. She gave a quick glance towards the ringed leaders and smiled, embarrassed. Yes she was quite alright, at least right now. As she continued her way to the leaders her memories enveloped her thoughts once again.
It was dark and the earth rubbed gently against her soft face, unworn by the hardships of life. A sliver of moonlight fell into the large tent in which Freya laid. Her mother's advisor stood at the entrance of the tent as still as an ancient marble statue. The flap was blowing gently in the soft wind. The harsh light of the moon struck on the advisor's cheek hard as he turned his head to speak in hushed tones to Freya. Before he had finished speaking Freya had barreled out of her purple tent to her mother's much larger red one. Freya brushed the heavy flap back as if it were a cobweb and rushed to her feeble mother. Amaya smiled weakly at her young daughter. "Do me proud my dear Freya," Amaya murmured. "I will mother, I will," croaked Freya. The young mare stood vigilantly at her mother's side until the elder mare's last breath trickled out of her nostrils, gentle and still warm. The golden accents throughout the tent cast a glow onto Amaya's face which remained strong and regal even in death. Freya wept freely in private, mourning over her mother's death, she would have to be strong for her people at the funeral.
Despite the death of their beloved leader the candidates, now dwindled down to three, were continuously pelted with tests of all kinds. But now Freya was much harder and stringer and excelled in each task thrown at her. It had become obvious that Freya was truly the right leader for the Pixies, especially now during the mourning of her mother as she would surely would contain the most strength at this time. The usual spirited ceremony to celebrate a new leader was dampened by the cold breath of death, but Freya didn't mind, she wasn't up to such feasting and celebrating that the occasion usually called for which was much out of character.
The funeral for Amaya was long and full of weeping, but Freya did not shed a tear, just as she had promised herself. Freya was the last to leave the fresh grave of her mother and the sad ballad of a dove flowed down from a tall sycamore tree as if nature was paying its respects to the fair and just leader of the Pixies. The world would go on like the gurgling stream told Freya as she walked away from the grave, head held high and features impassable, and it did go on.
Freya's first weighty decision was to move her people and that is exactly what she was doing. Now standing beside leaders both older and wiser than she Freya felt as unsure about herself as ever but she would do her mother proud. A single salty tear rolled down Freya's soft brown cheek. She wasn't sure if the other leaders saw it or not but she didn't care. Perhaps it would show them the hardships she had endured and that was as fit to lead as they. Perhaps they would see her as easy to convince and control but there they would be mistaken. In no situation would she allow herself to become the puppet of another. She would do as she thought best to protect and help her people, they had seen how worthy she was and she would not have them think otherwise.
**this isn't the only leader contest I entered
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Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 3:22 pm
I'm a little butter- wait, what's that?Username: Bardess Ookami Pixie's Name: Monarch Personality: She may be an adult, but she is still insecure, trying to find herself. Now that they're settled, maybe she can. Prompt Response:
"Did you know did you know, have you heard the news?" two shadowy mares asked.
"EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT!" a young foal called as he raced past, too fast for Monarch to catch more then a glimpse of him.
"You know, the way I heard it..." an elder Pixie whispered.
"NO!" Monarch cried. There was more to her race then just the stereotype of gossip. there was more to HER!. "NO!"
She opened her eyes and looked around her. Had she cried out? No, her scream had been all internal. She got up and stretched, thinking over the snipit of dream that was already fogging itself away into the depths of her memory. There was really nothing wrong with gossip. Maybe it wasn't as reliable as scouting, maybe every once in a while the news they got was completely wrong, but often the gossips got the story of other herds long before any scouts could. Gossiping for information was a skill, and it was barter. How much did you have to give to get the information you needed? And there was skill to knowing which bits to believe, and there was an art to the crafting of a tale in just a few sentences to hold an audience. Gossip could also prevent a conflict. Not only could they know who to avoid by listening to local gossip, but by spreading the right tales with a whispered word here and a wink there, they could insure that they would not be harassed. There really was nothing wrong with gossip.
But it wasn't all she and her herd were. But she felt like she was looked down upon by the other herd leaders because she was a craftsman. She practiced the arts to keep herself sharp. But they didn't understand. They saw it as just so much whispering and foolishness. They didn't have to say it, she saw it in their eyes.
Monarch sighed and moved over to the group of Pixie's gathering for the show. One of their best wordsmiths was going to share his new poem. He had been working on it the whole journey, and it was inspired by his interactions with the other races they had traveled with and amongst. She was eager to hear it, as was everyone else in the herd. But she was also worried. Did he see what she saw? Or was she just being insecure and jumping at shadows?
When they had all assembled, and a few from the other herds had come as well, he stood and began. (Disclaimer - I did not write this poem. I believe the author is Ellen Wilcox Wheeler, but I am seeing multiple credits for it on Google.)Quote: "Have you heard of the terrible family They,
And the dreadful, venomous things They say?
Why, half the gossip under the sun,
If you trace it back, you will find begun
In that wretched House of They.
A numerous family, so I am told,
And its genealogical tree is old;
For ever since Adam and Eve began
To build up the curious race of man,
Has existed the House of They.
Gossip-mongers and spreaders of lies,
Horrid people whom all despise!
And yet the best of us now and then,
Repeat queer tales about women and men
And quote the House of They.
They live like lords, and never labor;
A They’s one task is to watch his neighbor,
And tell his business and private affairs
To the world at large; they are sowers of tares –
These folks in the House of They.
It is wholly useless to follow a They
With a whip or a gun, for he slips away
And into his house, where you cannot go;
It is locked and bolted and guarded so –
This horrible house of They.
Though you cannot get in, yet They got out,
And spread their villainous tales about;
Of all the rascals under the sun
Who have come to punishment, never one
Belonged to the House of They."
Monarch stood and stumbled back as the others cheered the newest work of art. No, the other leaders, the other Soqs did not think THAT about them. That much she was sure of. No. He was misunderstanding, or maybe hurting. She needed to talk to him, so she settled to wait for him to be alone so that she could talk to him. How had she missed his pain? How had she never heard even a whisper about his being so hurt as to write that? He was her responsibility.
She was Monarch. Her parents named her that before she even came out of her basket. If she had fathers oranges and red, or mothers browns and greens, if she was male or female, healthy or ill, she would be the leader of her people, so they had chosen a strong name to fit. One day... it would. One day she would emerge from the chrysalis of her insecurity and become the leader her people needed. At least... she hoped she would. Until then... she just had to do the best she could for them all. Take every lesson as a way to grow.
Finally Sohma, the bard, was done talking to his fans, all of whom seemed to have enjoyed the show a great deal. She approached him. "May I speak with you?" she asked. She was always sure to ask when approaching her Pixies. if they said no, she had the choice to leave it, or to turn a question into a statement, or even an order. But asking gave them the chance to graciously accept.
He gave her a small bow of his head. "I was honored that you attended," he said. As she always attended his performances when duties allowed, she assumed that was just politeness. "Did you like my newest creation?"
She considered how to approach this. There were times to be delicate to prance about, and if she didn't like his answer she would do that, asking around to get to the truth. But here, now, she would be straightforward. "I did not realize you were so hurt," she told him, "what happened to make you so bitter?"
He stared at her a very long moment, then spoke softly. "My lady. Monarch... my poem was meant to be a joke. Clearly." He seemed confused and somewhat concerned. "Why would I do a serious poem that implied that others hated us?" He laughed a bit. "Without us, who would make them all laugh, or keep them all connected? They may not always realize how much we do, no, but the House Of They... it's a joke. A caricature. You know... for fun."
"Fun," she said weakly.
"Yeah, fun," said another Pixie coming up behind her. "Remember, it's that thing you used to have. Before you started fretting over if we were 'good enough' for the others. You were a good leader before. Stop stressing it and be our Monarch again. C'mon Sohma, did you hear that Terran the Imp adopted himself a big brother....?"
Monarch watched them go. Had she become over sensitive about this? Maybe... maybe she had. Still, she was glad they were done traveling.
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Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 5:43 pm
I'm a little butter- wait, what's that?
Username: -[The Spoof]-
Pixie's Name: Theia
Personality: Determined
Theia is young, some say she is too young to lead her people. She is determined to prove to herself and everyone else she has what it takes to lead the Pixie race but more importantly to control the flow of gossip and rumors that is constantly streaming through her people.
Prompt Response:
Theia shifted from foot to foot nervously, alone as she was. It was rare she felt she could express herself so openly, as it felt like someone was always watching and judging her based on her age. If she did act her age there was always someone to 'spread the news' even if she didn't see them. If only she were ten years older, the question of her right to lead would never be brought up and she wouldn't have to be so careful. Compared to the others, she was a baby and she knew it. Theia suspected some of the others viewed her like that too, since her voice seemed to have the least weight in the council.
Theia had been excited upon the news brought back by the Putti, Imp, and Nixie leaders. Indeed, the land was rich with life and seemed safe. She hoped her people would prosper here. The word was that they loved it already, playing some sort of word game with the natives that had been a hit.
The bushes rustled a few feet from her and she drew her face into a controlled look she felt made her look older; wiser. The wind picked up and ruffled her hair a bit and she closed her eyes in appreciation, it was so beautiful here in these lands. A rabbit hopped out and she relaxed again with a sigh. If only her parents were still here. Then this wouldn't be her responsibility.
The previous leader, her mother, had fallen ill and passed on a few years ago. The race spent a couple years trying to decide who should lead in her place, as surely her young daughter was not old enough to take over yet. Theia had not wanted to lead, but knew her mother would be disappointed in her if she just accepted whoever decided to step up in her place. She'd raised her daughter to be the next leader and had always expected Theia to succeed her.
Since then, she had been fighting tooth and nail for respect and had come to appreciate her mother that much more. It wasn't easy being the leader of the Pixies, there was always rumors flying left and right. Theia spent much of her time subtly controlling the flow of gossip and rumor. Her mother had come into leadership young as well and Theia briefly wondered if there was some sort of curse on the position. She was surprised there wasn't whispers about it yet, perhaps she should start some.
She departed the clearing finally, it was time to see how her people were settling in. She couldn't dawdle anymore or else the gossip would start up again about how she was too young and incapable. Those were always troublesome to quell without anyone realizing it was her.
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Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 6:03 pm
I'm a little butter- wait, what's that?
Username: YourxStarlessxEyes
Pixie's Name: Qnassa
Personality: Bright
Qnassa is a bright, bubbly little thing. She is generally easygoing and happy, enjoying the small, simple, beautiful things in life, and sees the best in all. Qnassa prefers peaceful approaches to problems and would rather frolick in the fields than think about the difficulties in life. She is not naive, however, and should the situation call for it, will be serious. She is determined, and determined to be nice, at that! The little mare has a great affinity for foals, although she has none of her own, and their future and welfare are often her chief concerns. She is very nonjudgemental, although she sometimes only sees things in black and white, and is outraged by any injustice, however small.
Prompt Response: Qnassa was nervous the first time she met with the other leaders, although she tried her best to present a friendly, confident face. Some of them seemed quite nice, like the Putti and Nixie leaders. The Imp leader made her a little nervous, but Qnassa was sure he was a nice person once you got to know him. The other two females were quite polite and friendly, although the sheer experience of the Nymph leader was obvious and intimidated the Pixie a little bit. But her wise eyes also motivated Qnassa to do her absolute best for her own herd, and to someday achieve that wisdom in her own eyes.
As the meeting went on, it was clear to everyone that Qnassa was the most inexperienced. Although she held some initial trepidation about speaking her mind, and was rebuffed a bit harshly by the Imp leader at first, the Pixie persisted in speaking her opinions and views. She listened just as well, and was soon deeply engaged in the plans and debates. Her usual joy still carried through her conversation though, however childish and unprofessional it might have seemed. Qnassa noticed her ideals and conclusions might seem juvenile to the others, but they injected a wonderful counterpoint at times, and seemed to even make the others think or reconsider once or twice. By the time Qnassa returned to her herd, she realized she fit in amongst the other leaders, filling a role and viewpoint that had previously been lacking amongst them. She would be able to do this after all, and in her own way.
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Posted: Thu Jun 30, 2011 6:44 pm
Using my other entries in this.
I'm a little butter- wait, what's that?
Username: elfstar89
Pixie's Name: Parisa
Personality: Energetic, excitable, and affectionate, Parisa is an optimistic dreamer who wants the best for her kind. Around those she respects, she can be very shy. She can be easily distracted, like a butterfly, but she does her best to pay attention and not let her mind wander. She deeply respects the other leaders and, despite her inexperience (which makes her very shy and nervous around them), she wants more than anything else to be really, truly accepted by them, since they're her heroes.
Prompt Response:
Parisa looked around at the other leaders shyly, quiet in their presence. Panuka Huata of the nymphs had called them to discuss the kalonas and skinwalkers in the area, and as the oldest leader, she commanded their respect. Even rough and antisocial Samson Dysme of the imps was silent, though he still looked around warily. Meredydd was working on braiding some new feathers into his mane, but he was probably keeping the news of his nixies in the forefront of his mind. Melete was equally quiet and shy, which was why Parisa had gravitated toward her. The quilin siblings were standing together, whispering something quietly, and Tilion was glancing skyward, waiting for the stars to come out in the evening sky.
Her thoughts swirled with all the rumors she'd heard about the other leaders, such that she quickly lost track of the conversation. Some said Panuka Huata had lived among kalonas and feared almost nothing. Others said Samson Dysme had fallen for a kalona mare, until something had killed her. Still others said Tilion had taken over the puttis after his sister was killed. There were no real rumors she'd heard of Meredydd, Melete, or the quilin, but she didn't really know the quilin all that well.
"Parisa, please answer the question." Panuka Huata's voice broke through Parisa's reverie and she was jolted to see the other leaders staring at her.
Meredydd grinned warmly, Panuka Huata had a soft smile in her eyes, Samson Dysme and Tilion sighed, and Melete and the quilin looked away carefully as Parisa spluttered, embarrassed, "I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry, could you ask the question again, please?" It was doubly embarrassing to have gotten distracted in front of the leaders, so many of whom she respected deeply for their talents, experience and dedication. She hung her head a little and her bell jingled.
Panuka Huata nodded without surprise and repeated her question. "Given the presence of kalonas, who may not be a significant problem for us if we take care, and the skinwalkers, against which I can help teach everyone to avoid and fight as necessary, what do you choose, as the leader of the pixies, to do?"
Parisa paused to think about this. Judging from the others' expressions, they were staying and choosing to ride out any dangers. Parisa wanted to be brave and stay with the leaders she admired, but if she really wanted to be a part of them, shouldn't she put her people first?
If so...well...the lands they'd come from had gotten dreadfully hard on all the foals and families. No one had really been safe. The imps, puttis and nixies had come here first and were still safe, right? If they were safe, it boded well for everyone else. Besides, the land was good, and everyone loved it so far. Sooo...that meant the answer was....
"We'll stay," Parisa said shyly, working to get her voice above a high-pitched whisper.
The others nodded, and all but Samson Dysme, who would barely smile at his own most loved ones, gave her an encouraging smile.
"It's settled then," Panuka Huata said firmly. "We'll stay here and put everyone on the alert amongst the new arrivals. We'll stand firm together and the eight of us--yes, you, too, Parisa--will work together for the sake of our herds."
Parisa felt a brilliant glow in her heart as Panuka Huata included Parisa in the list.
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Posted: Sat Jul 16, 2011 3:17 pm
Thank you all for your patience!The judges have finally finished deliberating and would like to congratulate Faid Shadowlighton winning the Pixie Leader! Please post in this thread to get your new pet certed! Thank you to all the participants and we hope you enjoyed this event! Also please remember that these are not elders (except how the Nymph Leader is older than the rest) and should not be confused with Elder Soquili.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2011 3:05 am
Wow.. ok.. Wow...
There were so many great entries that I really didn't think I stood a chance.
So thank you very much to the judges, and Wow I wish the rest of the entrants the best of luck in other events and contests that they might choose to enter in the future!
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