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 Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 4:59 am
A story a story! Let me tell you a story: The moon was full, casting a eerily illuminating glow over the swamp and the uncovered expanse in which he stood. Break You Down regarded his captive audience thoughtfully, then began his tale without further ado. "You are very aware," he said, "of the intense rivalry - no, not the right term - the bitter feud between birds and snakes, between catching claws and vicious fangs. One always seeks to defeat the other in the violent ways of the animal kingdom: sometimes, the snake wins, preying on a fowl it wraps itself and its unhinged jaw around. Sometimes the bird triumphs, digging its talons into a serpent's angular head and pecking out its vital organs. Always, it is a good show. But to examine this relationship, we must focus on a specific case. Let us speak of a snake. The snake in question was a highly ambitious creature - its venom and the degree to which its mouth could stretch was rather impressive, and so it took its reckless chances in the swamp. It had - as you could expect from my introduction - a great taste for bird. And so it devoured everything, from the helpless babes to their screeching parents, from the sweetest songbirds to birds of prey. Its successes made it cocky, self-important. It had no fear, no caution. It seemed the snake was sure, that once its gaping maw swallowed its victims, feathers and all, the deed was done. Most of the time, it would be correct in this assumption. Unfortunately, its latest prey - larger by half and full of fight - was highly problematic. It had annoyingly and stubbornly refused to give, its claws marking a bloody pattern in the scaled skin. It lashed with its wings, the snake struck, fangs sinking into a leg - still it flew, and dealt a vicious peck. The furious reptile engaged in its final move: flinging itself at the fowl, it slithered into a deadly embrace and wrapped the creature up into a lovely, smooth package; down it went, feet first, into the cavernous throat many of its cousins had gone before. In one swift motion, the bird was fully contained within its gullet, ready for digestion." Break cast a significant look at his audience. "Or so the snake thought. A last desperate blow: the bird flared its magnificent wings. The force of vengeance stretched the snake's throat, and the wings beat ever harder against its fleshy prison - again and again, it swept its wings open, its pinions stiff and straight. Open, close, open, close until the walls started to thin and give; the snake choked, it reared up, helpless in its internal struggle, until the bird's motions forced the scales to part, its prison to bend - the quills tore through sinews and finally the wings burst through the sides of the ill-fated serpent. It bled. It shuddered. The bird flexed its wings in newfound freedom. After all, there was nothing to fear now that the snake could not continue to live. Its wings settled, contentedly closing around its new pelt." And acting like a very wise Kimeti, Break turned in his steps, and shook his head. "You may think now then, the body should, like any respectable corpse, rot and slough off. Not so! After all, this is a piece about strength's triumph over greed and egotism, and Motherfather works in her own strange ways. The bird-snake shed its old coat, grew its own tail feathers and continued to thrive and grow - indeed, the first occurrence of the feathered 'serpent'. As long as gluttony, narcissism, and that age-old feud exists, there will certainly be more of its winged compatriots to illustrate the ills of such sins." His tale now finished, Break peered at his audience, the creatures in front of him: the carcasses of a bird and a snake, crudely hollowed and awkwardly mashed together in an unnatural union. "Lengthy artist descriptions are never feasible," he concluded, smiling wryly and picking the pieces apart. "Besides, this isn't art, this is rubbish." (And if Break ever encounters an actual feathered serpent, it'll be a "Well, what do you know..." moment.) Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Break You Down
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 7:08 am
 A story a story! Let me tell you a story:
Streams of Silver smiled as she leaned forward, to the little crowd of foals and colts and fillies before her. "Come closer, all of you. There is safety in numbers. Strange creatures have started to enter the swamp, unlike any but for those told in legend." She smiled. "First, it was the Kiokote, and their cats. Then, the Acha, and their sand dogs. They are benevolent, goodly creatures-" She paused as she heard chatting among her small, assembled crowd. "What is it?" she asked, irritated.
The foals shifted, and one spoke up. "What is benevolent?"
Silver smiled. "It means good, or kind. The Acha and the Kiokote are friends, and their companions are faithful and loyal. They are good. But we all know, there isn't just good in the world-"
"There's bad, too!" another small voice interjected. Silver paused a moment, then nodded.
"Exactly. Terrible things, with long snouts and forward-facing eyes, the better to hunt you with. Large maws of terrible teeth, to gnash and tear and snap up little ones whole." Her fiery eyes practically glowed as she regarded the little crowd, her expression almost fiercely alien as she padded around them. "There are beasts in the swamp. Great, gigantic snakes - longer than the biggest buck from nose to tail tip - with the wings of hawks and the crests of eaglehounds." She watched the wide, staring eyes with a feeling of satisfaction. "Some stories say they come from another swamp, on the other side of the sea, where kin not unlike us do constant battle with one another. Others say they come from the mountains, in search of food, only to return to stony lairs up as close to the sky as they can get." She leaned in, voice lowering to a near-whisper. "But one legend in particular..." she paused, expecting the chatter. "It means, 'more than all the others'." She smiled. "One legend, more than all the others, sounds like it's true."
Wide eyes stared at her. "This is the story of the Feathered Serpents, little ones. Listen, and listen well." She smiled as she sat back, settling as they crowded even closer.
"There was a time when the Motherfather gave many of the kin gifts of great magic, that many had the ability to weave spells and charms to better the lives of each and every one of us. The stags and mares of legend walked among us, then, much like they do now. But not everyone used these powers for good. One such witch was named Ravens Circle, and she used her magic for personal gain. She was known to make a deal with desperate kin, to offer them the stuff of their wildest dreams. And then, she would make them promise something. Sometimes it was a lock of hair, sometimes it was a pet or a rare flower or even a moon of their lifespan. Things to help her further her spells. One time, it's even said she took and transformed a kimeti who asked her for the power to live forever, and turned it into a watersnake, and charmed it so every scale on it's skin would give them another day to live, and in doing so, allowed them to live forever. For the snake shed it's skin every few moons, and by doing so, allowed them to live a few moons longer. She had lived a dreadfully long time, and every day that she lived and made her deals, she grew more and more bitter. Every happy kin she saw made her anger at her own unhappiness, and the angrier she got, the less happy she was with her life. And that... that was when she made the deals hurt. She came to enjoy inflicting pain on others, making them give her something that they would later come to regret. Or making them promise something, not saying what, just some undetailed thing that she would come to collect at a later time. She would stalk them, and wait to see what in their lives was most precious to them, then claim that. Their voice. their sight. Their ability to ever see their beloved ever again. It was something, and for a while, it appeased her. But eventually, the kin stopped coming to her.
"Who would want to suffer at the hands of a terrible old witch when you could go to another, someone who could get you similar results for far less pain? And even if they wouldn't help you, wouldn't the cost only outstrip the value of what you wanted? There came to be a time where almost no one would come to her, when only the most desperate came to her for her help, or her counsel. So the doe made a plan.
"She would wait for the perfect time, the time to claim a life, or two, to turn into birds, enchanted like her precious snake. And she would charm them, so their cries would strike fear into the kin's hearts, so that their songs would send the vulnerable into a trance-like slumber, and so the strong would lose all will to continue on. But most of all, she would train them to weave a curse, upon whosoever she set them upon. But the best part of her plan, is that she wouldn't let anyone know the birds were hers. They would become hated, and her prices, her deals, would be demanded by all. She would see the whole swamp miserable, cursed, or scared, and she would claim whatever she wished, whenever she wished it, to cure or fix or help with their ailments, their mates, their children. All she would need is a willing kimeti. So, she would wait.
"One day, she was approached by a pair of twins. They were very much in love with each other, and had deigned to never love any other as truly as they loved eachother. But as every kin knows, the Motherfather would never bless such a union. Year after year, winter after autumn after summer after spring after winter again, they tried to have a clutch of their own, and were denied their deepest desire. None of the goodly witches, nor those neither here nor there, would ever help them in their endeavor. And most of those who would try what they wished, were too weak to manage it. Ravens Circle, however, was very old, and very strong, knowing how to tap into the magic that the Motherfather had left in certain places of the swamp... her own cave was dug into one of those sites by many seasons' labor from countless kin. When they came to her, she agreed to help them, so long as they promised to give her whatever she wanted, as soon as the sacs had been laid. They agreed to her price, and she wove her magic, giving them the power to create their own life, without the blessing of the Motherfather.
"The twins left, overjoyed with the fact that she had given them what they had most desired. Soon came the day that the doe expected to lay her clutch, and Ravens Circle showed up to witness it. Seven sacs, all perfect, unmarred. More than the Motherfather gave most of the kin - the new parents were elated. But when she fixed a milky eye on the eggs, and walked over to nose at each and every one of them, they became nervous.
"It was the buck that spoke first," Silver said, her voice almost a whisper. "'What do you want us to give you?' he asked the witch, his voice not quite as steady and strong as it usually was.
"She smiled, her lips stretching over her teeth like an old, dry hide over empty bones. She opened her toothless mouth, a red tongue flicking out from a black abyss, carefully pronouncing every last bit of word with careful, terrible focus. "I want them all," she stated. Her voice was raspy and rough, like the skin of a crocodile, and as she grinned, openmouthed, one could almost imagine a maw full of sharp, sharp teeth.
"The doe cried out, the buck looked on in horror. They had come so close to it, having their own children to raise, but no. There was nothing they could do. The witch's words spelled it out in every terrible scrape of tongue and flap of lips. She had caught them in her plan, and there was no escaping it.
"They left, and she took the eggs back to her cave, turning them into seven tiny songbird eggs. It was they, that would be her pets, to cause misery among all of the kin, and to bring despair to all four corners of the swamp. She was delighted!
"But then, something happened one day, when she was bathing in a clear pond not far from her lake. Her beloved snake, who she pampered and fed all sorts of delicacy, decided that it wanted to try to eat eggs. One by one, the snake wrapped it's little mouth around the eggs, and swallowed them whole. By the time the witch came back, though, all that was left of the eggs were seven round lumps on her snake's belly. Ravens Circle screamed, she raged, and she kicked out at the air at her lost birds, but she didn't harm a single scale on the snake. She coudln't hurt the very thing that made her immortal.
"And she was very glad, a few days later, when she saw what had happened with the snake. It had laid seven eggs, eggs that looked to be strangely like the birds' eggs that her snake had laid, but they felt leathery. She watched the snake mother them, keep them warm, move them. She watched them when they hatched.
"She was delighted when the first feathery head poked it's way out of the shell, confused when she saw the scales. But then her mouth twisted, the corners coming up into another crocodilian smile. This was it! Even better than songbirds, these feathered serpents that her magic had made would be hers to raise and command! Birds were hardly a threat, but a strange new monster? Oh, she could terrorize the entire swamp with them! She could get anything she could possibly dream!"
Silver's glance swept across the expanse of big, wide eyes before her. "So, the witch took the tiny creatures, and raised them in the deepest depth of her caves, teaching them to be loyal to her, and showing her a love like a mother bear gives to her cubs. She fed them everything she could get her hooves on, meat to make them strong and big and fierce, and watched them grow big enough to devour a foal, should they so choose. They grew to love her, and no other, not even the snake that had seen them hatch. She had fed them many others like it, and they saw it only as food.
"And one day, when she wasn't watching her snake as she should have, they ate it, tearing the thing apart in a tug-of-war and greedily snapping up the scraps.
"Ravens Circle, who was making a deal with a pregnant doe, screamed as she felt her life nearing it's end, writhed on the ground as the scales that gave her her unnatural life were eaten up and turned to nothing.
"And then she died, fading into nothing but a curl of black smoke that smeared the sky. Her children, the Feathered Serpents, felt it as their mother died. It filled them with a rage, made them escape the cave that they had lived in for so many seasons. Filled with naught but lessons of destruction and pain, they tore through the swamp, attacking everything and anything that crossed their paths. They were terrifying and beautiful, and all the kin gathered in hidden places to try and keep from being killed by the vengeful monsters that were tearing up the swamp.
"It so happened that a group of kin came up with a plan, with their greatest hunters and trap-setters loosening rocks above many a cave in hopes of trapping or killing the great beasts. All they needed was bait. Brave kin who were willing to risk their lives to lure the terrible beasts into place. The twins had heard of the great monsters, and had no hope, no reason in life to keep on going without their children, not knowing that the witch had turned them into terrible beasts.
"This new purpose, however dangerous, might just let them die feeling a little better, knowing that wherever their children were, that they would be safe for the monsters.
"So out they went, away from the protection of large groups, the only things that seemed to keep the monsters at bay. They ran around, searching for the monsters.
"When they found them, they despaired, recognizing the serpents as they were, their very own sons and daughters, warped by strange and unnatural magic. They would have to lead them to one of the caves, where rocks would fall, and trap them forever... or kill them. Though they didn't want to do it, they had to. They made the snakes chase them, guiding them along down to a far corner of the swamp, where a cave held a small maze, that the twins had played with as foals. There was one loop, that would probably give one of them time enough to get in and out, without the snakes following them. They hoped, as they raced towards the mouth of the tunnels.
"The buck and the doe both charged into the cave, pursued by the relentless monsters. they turned into one tunnel, taking the three bends before the serpents knew where to follow them. They turned, leaving their monstrous children in the cave, then ran for the entrance of the cave.
"The kin had been waiting at this cave, and many others like it, and heard the roars of the monsters inside. They didn't wait for the kin to emerge, didn't want to risk any more lives by letting any of the monsters escape. With a crash of hooves, they sent the rocks to fall over the mouth of the cave, burying the creatures, and the kin, inside. No one knows if the buck and the doe were crushed to death. The buck that told this story likes to tell me that the parents were reunited with their children, and lived long and happy lives before eventually passing away due to old age, and that the great beasts fell into a magical slumber after that time. No one is quite sure.
"But time has since revealed the cave, the boulders having shifted in the many years. One day, a kimeti, who by chance happened to be also named Feathered Serpent, happened across these great beasts, and somehow managed to tame them. I like to think that years of loneliness has tempered their rage. It would make sense, right?" The foals nodded, visibly shaken, a couple of them looked rather shaken, and some seemed to be about to cry.
The Silver doe smiled, turning around to start walking away.
She turned her head over her shoulder to add one last thing, for the benefit of the petrified semicircle of faces. "Just make sure to behave around them, colts and fillies... you don't know what might make them angry."
She almost felt guilty when she heard the first scared wails.
Almost.Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Streams of Silver, though she may end up giving the serpent in question to Echo, if that's okay?
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 11:29 am
A story a story! Let me tell you a story:Lashout wasn't the nicest doe in the swamp by any stretch, prone to attacking any creature that step near her nest without a shred of hesitation. This fact held true for everything that so much as moved in the swamp except for snakes. It was hard to believe that Lashout would have a heart, let alone have room in her heart for anything else but she indeed had a soft spot in her heart for the snakes. She collected several of them and had already collected three of them. They were her only friends and today she had a special surprise for them. Quick Attack came first, followed by The Look and then finally Deadly Strike made an appearance. The doe waited for the three of them to settle down but when they didn't she stomped her foot onto the ground and forced them to settle down manually. They stopped, and then the doe grinned. "Dat's wut I wike to swee," she said in a very firm voice. "Mai sworee egens a wong thyme ago so yoo bettah pai attenshin..." Lashout's voice seemed to tune out and as she spoke the words seemed to fill the air around them, images building until her words were a story and the story was their new reality. The story starts off in this very spot, with this very tree. Back then this tree was but a sapling fighting to survive the harsh climate of the swamp so that it could someday grow to be tall as the very heavens. It was a hard battle and there wasn't a day that the tree didn't worry about whether the sun would be too hot and dry up its food or whether it would be too rainy in the season and it would become part of the roots that trailed through the depths of the swamp.
It loved the swamp but it didn't want to be hidden under the water. It wanted to grow tall and free and feel the wind in its leaves. At the moment it wasn't very tall and didn't have much for leaves but year after year it grew bit by bit. Eventually it was no longer a sapling and soon it offered shade to many of the swamp creatures and a place to rest for many birds in their travels. The tree was finally happy and no longer had to worry about becoming consumed by the swamp. However, other creatures did and this tree sympathized heavily with them. It too knew how it felt and wanted to help those who felt its own pain.
In particular there was a small group of snakes that found refuge in the tree's hearth and every night it could their whispers. They wished they grow beyond their own expectancy, to reach the skies just like this very tree. It was so large and tall despite the lack of any trees around it. It had surpassed what had been expected of it and reached the sky. The snakes felt like they would never be able to accomplish this though so every night they went to sleep with sorrow.
One day before the snakes went off to find food the tree spoke to them and left them with words of wisdom. It inspired them to do as it did and not give up. If they wanted to reach the skies then they too could reach the sky if they worked hard enough, if they dreamed each night. It might take time but eventually their wish would come true.
The snakes were starstruck and that night they didn't return to the tree. Day after day, and night after night the tree waited for them but they never returned. Years passed and still the snakes never returned. It wasn't until a day just like the one that they had left when the sky was bright blue without a cloud in the sky did the snakes return. The tree didn't see them coming along the ground but he could hear their voices and felt their lifted spirits.
The tree's words had spoken to them and now they returned with their wish granted. The snakes were no longer the snakes they had been when they left and instead they were imbued with will of the heavens. They were granted wings and had grown to gargantuan sizes. The tree did not see the snakes it had taken care of but it seen their hearts and no longer were they heavy with sorrow but they were light, almost as if filled with air.
"Welcome home," the tree whispered happily.
Now each night would be filled with the soft whispers of friends once more.Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Lashout
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 1:18 pm
[ Red Ring of Death, Come Running, Summer Fades, The Sun Also Rises, and My Very Best used with permission from Maxx D ]
A story a story! Let me tell you a story:
The pampered clutch-in-residence at Rise & Co.'s Preserved and Exotic Foods, located at the edge of the salt marshes with Swamp-wide delivery available look for a runner near you, were no longer colts and fillies, blushed enough by adulthood to have the long locks all had inherited from their mother tumble well past their shoulders - but nevertheless remained young and spoilt enough to retain that inquisitive disdain and hyperactive desire for stimulation that characterised children of a certain age. Thus it was that, confronted by the incongruous concept of a winged serpent, the dreaded question soon arose: "But, why?" (Followed by declarations along the lines of 'That's so stupid.' 'Snakes don't even have legs, much less wings.' 'How does it keep its tail up when it flies, does it just dangle?'')
Their doting 'uncle' Sky Fell In, no relation by blood but bound by ridiculous-schmoopy-adoration for initially their father, then the princesses and princelings themselves, into nanny-service from their infancy, was indubitably the first to reply. "Nothing in the Swamp is incidental, you know," never even pausing in his pickling duty, he reeled off in the slight sing-songy voice of one long used to spinning up a yarn on the fly from ceaseless little requests for 'just one more story please', "The Motherfather herself left her mark on this amazing animal, so mind your calls of 'stupid', please thank you. Birds lay eggs, snakes lay eggs - it isn't very difficult to see how a perfectly innocent snake egg could have gotten mixed up with a bird's, kept cozy under some mother bird's belly till it hatched with its rather more downy siblings. The little snake had no idea how different it was from the chicks around it of course, until their wings started to grow in, and the flying lessons began. Flying lessons did not go so well for the little snake, and when he twisted his head around to see why his wings weren't working - he realised he had none. 'Mother,' he asked, most plaintively, 'where are my wings?' Birds aren't always known for being the smartest of creatures, so the kindly mother bird merely scrunched her eyes up in puzzlement at her differently-shaped child and opined, 'they'll grow out when you're bigger, darling.' The little snake took this to heart, and focused all his efforts on getting bigger. Whatever his mother could bring him, he ate. When he along with his feathered brothers left the nest, they flying, he slithering, he ate his way down the tree. Everything that could be eaten, he ate - and indeed he got bigger, but still, no wings. So he ate some more. Days passed and he ate: he got bigger still, but yet, no wings. He looked up at the stars and sighed, longing to flutter among them like his brothers did. 'Oh, Swampmother,' he appealed, as all creatures did in their times of despair, 'how much bigger must I get for my wings to grow?' There was no answer, but the leaves rustled and he felt warmth, so he set his jaw with determination and resolved, 'yes, Swampmother, I shall work hard for my wings. I will become the biggest snake there has ever been, and then, I know, you will bless me with them.' Months passed and he ate, full of resolution, years passed…nothing escaped his maw, all swallowed whole: grubs, fruits, foxbuns, then owlcats, then lynxes, oh anything. Naturally, he got bigger - very, very, much bigger, till he was quite big enough to swallow the likes of your baby selves whole, too, I'd think. And that was when, by the light of the stars, he could feel something happening with him - and it did. Wings, glorious wings, burst from his scaly back, a magnificent plume from his tail, and, even, his smooth, serpentine head. A feathered serpent! What an awe-inspiring figure he cut, the biggest snake in the Swamp, with huge, full, beautiful wings! He beat them once, he beat them twice, and he took off into the skies. And the Swampmother smiled upon him and what she had finally given him, for he had worked as hard as any creature could, and never lost faith, a lesson you could stand to learn. By her grace, he lived to flutter amongst the stars to this very day. Well, to this specific day, at any rate."
The silence in which the young Kimeti contemplated this was skeptical, to say the least, but it was their older 'cousin', Red Ring of Death, who erupted with scorn. "What a ridiculous story! So the Swampmother rewards him for all that hard work eating?! You told an entire story about a flying snake just to stuff in that stupid moral?!" Fell froze in his tracks and returned a chilly stare. With all the dignity and reprove he could muster, he replied with such hurt that only a co-founder of a food store could feel at the belittling of that sacred activity, "Not everything it swallowed, dear Death, was as delicious as the delights a Kin could sample at Rise & Co's. Some were very hard going, indeed." "It wouldn't have tasted a thing if it swallowed them all whole, would it? And look at those teeth - that's a lot of them and normal snakes don't have teeth that come out this far. I'll tell you what this guy was made for," and his green eyes had become dark and sly, glittering smugly at the young ones and entirely disregarding Fell's existence, "what could be worse, wouldn't you hare-brained little cowards say, than a snake - the biggest damned snake ever, with rows and rows of tearing teeth? That's right, nothing." Whether or not the hare-brained little cowards would indeed say that was irrelevant, nobody wanted to interrupt 'cousin' Death, whose skill with brutality was almost matched only by his temper and thus might in fact be worse than the biggest damned snake ever with rows and rows of tearing teeth. "It could chose," Death continued, unchallenged, with the most horrible flash of his own fangs, "whether to squeeze the life out of you with its massive coils, then rend the flesh from your bones, or rend the flesh from your bones before squeezing what little's left of your life out of you with its massive coils, or both at the same time. But a snake, however big, is still a worm that crawls, exceedingly easy to outrun." In his defense, he knew very little of outrunning snakes, even as a foal he'd simply crushed the heads of most he'd tripped across. "So the Swampmother thought, 'what a waste to have made this colossal thing to cull the hare-brained coward population with and have it so easily outrun. What would be the best thing to stick on it so it could chase those little buggers down and destroy them? I know, wings.' Big wings, able to take this gigantic creature from stationary to cheetah-speed in one beat, you'd never be able to escape that. The only question that remains is which way it'll catch you - that'd determine how you'd go. Maybe its jaws'll splinter your…hm, left ankle to bits first, then slowly start that way up as you scream and scream and whimper and try to crawl away - hah, who's the worm now? - as it strips the flesh from your leg, then your thigh. It could take hours, maybe days." The poor delivery of the tale was compensated for by his arbitrary demonstration on a random one of their number, the others could only lean subtly away from the hapless victim as wicked teeth that were rather sharp in their own right travelled sinister up a flank. "And the moral? What's your moral of the story then?" Fell demanded sharply, still smarting from having his perfectly serviceable homily derided. "Moral?" Taking advantage of Death's momentary confusion, the hapless victim slipped away to rejoin the herd. "These weaklings're doomed, so there's not much use sticking a moral in that, is there?"
A discreet cough defused the impending escalation. "Both Fell and Death's expositions were admirably…colourful," Cry More rarely chose to speak in front of the store brats, and much less so to contradict his louder, cockier, and unfortunately beloved bother, but the outlandish explanations for such a solid matter rather offended his scientific sensibilities, and an intervention was considered necessarily before these young minds were corrupted forever, "but the truth, I'm afraid, is likely more mundane. Reptiles and avians share a similar ancestry, it is rather possible that many years ago winged serpents were a common sight, along with other feathered lizards and extensively scaled birds. The topic in question is rather its emergence in the swamp at this given moment in time. There isn't enough data on this sighting for a definitive conclusion, of course, but considering the sensitivity of reptilian creatures to temperature, I can hazard a few hypotheses based on the assumption that the overall atmospheric temperature is changing, which I would argue for on the basis of unusual migration patterns and an increase in natural happenings such as the Great Flood. Being in a relatively temperate region, we are unable to accurately gauge the trend in climate fluctuation, but there are two opposite scenarios to be derived. If the overall atmospheric temperature is dropping, I would project a location much farther from the Swamp, likely beyond the Kiokote plains, that once boasted a relatively high level of heat retention - in other words, the natural habitat of a winged reptile. With a drop in temperature, such creatures would be forced from their homeland to seek warmer climes, our humid Swamp naturally a potential destination. If, however, temperatures are actually rising, I would propose a more intriguing, if unorthodox, possibility: reptiles may enter brumation for exceedingly long periods of time, and some animals are incredibly long-lived. It may well be that feathered serpents have been with us in the swamp for hundreds of years - but rendered dormant by some earlier climate change. If temperatures have been slowly rising, however, these living fossils may simply have finally shaken off their dormancy to resume their former glory as predator supreme -" Needless to say, most young eyes had long glazed over; when tender voices cry 'why?', so rarely do they actually seek 'because'. Come Running, the eldest of the clutch, seized upon the last phrase in desperate escape from the circumlocution, "If this is a 'predator supreme', what could've killed it?"
As one, they looked down upon the carcass of the magnificent beast. Their reverie was interrupted by Summer Fades, making her way back to the pickling dam with another hunk of hacked out flesh. "Ek-schush mi, coming thru." Not too far away, they could hear the eponymous The Sun Also Rises of Rise & Co.'s exclaiming with no little fervour, "I wonder if salted giant-winged-serpent tastes anything like our pickled salamanders!"
After a suitably reflective pause, Death said with some reluctance, "Well, I hate to admit it, but it wasn't us. It was already dead when we got there. Cry and I just dragged it back to the shop, that's all." "There were, however," Cry added the implications delicately, "two sets of slither-tracks, and many scuffmarks that matched the width of this specimen's feathers." "It couldn't be," Only the Ashes Remain, the youngest of the princelings this time, said, in hushed tones of dread and awe, "another feathered serpent? But…why would they fight?" "A territorial dispute, perhaps," Cry supplied solemnly, "or a mating disagreement. Or perhaps…it is in their habit to cannibalise." Another young buck sprang to his hooves in a panicked blur of flame and grey, "FOR FOOD?! And you brought the corpse back HERE?!? WHAT IF IT FOLLOWED YOU BACK LOOKING FOR IT?! WHAT IF IT EATS US ALL?!!?!?" As the general assembly dissolved into neigh-saying and alarm, Fell stepped sternly in front of his young charges to quell the hysteria. "Children - children, there is no other winged serpent, alright? This poor fellow is an aberration. There is no other winged serpent that killed it - no matter what your cousins may say," voice raised in clear warning, a reproachful glare shot at the miscreants, "there is nothing that will come into our home and eat you. Alright? I promise it. You are all perfectly safe. There is nothing that - where're you going? Why are you all huddled over there like that? …Who's making that weird sound?"
In a blink, his entire audience had back-pedalled a considerable distance - save for the middle child, Love Becomes You, who had, as far as her siblings were concerned, moved in exactly the wrong direction. "Uncle Fell," she said, her low, cool voice, usually the texture of a whispering frond, tinkling with excitement for once, "don't look behind you now, but -"
Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Love Becomes You
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 1:20 pm
A story a story! Let me tell you a story: As he tossed and turned, beads of sweat trickled down his brow, he was running, running... but no matter how fast he ran, he just couldn't escape. The beating of wings grew louder and louder, closer, closer. Jaws opened wide. And soon, all was black.
He gave a shout as he jolted awake, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. The movement had woken up Earthbound, and the young watersnake only looked up at him, flickering his tongue curiously. Grasswhistle sighed and pushed himself up, albeit shakily. He bent down to allow Earthbound to climb up onto his head, and headed towards the river, intending to take a drink to clear his mind.
Upon his arrival though, he stopped dead in his tracks and stiffened slightly. Before him, lay the body of a crane, still and lifeless. Blood tainted its feathers, and as he stepped closer to it, he noticed teeth marks puncturing its neck. The victim of another caiman attack. It was evident it had gotten away, but the wounds eventually ended up killing it. It was a wonder how it got away at all, considering how it should of died instantly once the caiman bit down on its neck.
Letting out a shaky breath, Grasswhistle stepped back slightly and began to paw at the earth. If anything, it deserved a proper burial. That, and if he didn't hide the scent of blood, it would undoubtedly attract more caimans. Something he'd like to avoid. As he began to dig, his mind drifted, and heard a voice, his own voice, exclaiming with terror and wonder at what he had seen.
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"It's true! I saw it with my own eyes! It was huuuuuuuuuuuuge, and it had these GIANT wings, and big big teeth..."
The little foal waved his forelegs ecstatically as he tried to emphasize the vastness of it all, but the other foals only laughed at him.
"You're such a liar, Grasswhistle! There's no such thing as giant winged snakes, stupid!"
"Yah! Such a dummy, Grasswhistle!"
The foal pouted and lowered his forelegs, ears drooping as the others didn't believe his tail. "B-but, i-it's true..."
The sound of a throat clearing caught the foals attention, and they all turned their heads toward the mare who stood before them.
"Now now, young ones..." She gave a stern look at the ones who ridiculed Grasswhistle. "Who are you to say he is lying? For all you know, he could be telling the truth." The twinkle in her eye made all their ears perk up, as they knew this meant a story was coming.
"Why, when I was as young as you little ones, my grandfather told me stories. Wonderful stories, of mythical magical creatures we'd only dream of seeing. One of these was about a great winged beast, with magnificent feathers and shining scales. Many would admire such a beautiful creation by the motherfather, and they would build shrines to honour their presence in the swamp.
Eventually, the pride of these creatures got the best of them, and their ego began to grow. They demanded payment for just a glimpse, and when they weren't able to pay, they would devour their first-born. Because of this, no one visited these beasts anymore. Angered by this, the feathered serpents lashed out angrily at kimeti and familiar alike, and taking to the skies, would swoop down and attack any who dared to run away, killing many. The motherfather saw this, and mourned the loss of her childen, not knowing how such a beautiful creature could become such a wretched beast.
To punish the winged serpents, she took away their wings and shortened their bodies. To some she gave feet, albeit small, and restricted them to the waters, so they couldn't terrorize those on land. To others, she greatly reduced their size, but allowed them to travel the land and waters. They were barely large enough to harm a foal, but grown kimeti could crush them beneath their hooves should they be attacked. These, respectively, are now known as the caiman and watersnake, and though they no longer have their wings, they still remember when they once did. Because of this, they often lash out angrily at those who have feathers, a bitter reminder of what they once had but lost. BUT, rumour has it that some were able to escape the motherfather's grasp. Even to this day, there could be feathered serpents hiding, lurking... waiting for the right time to come out again. So be careful, little ones..."
She winked and let out a little laugh as she watched the foals all stare with their jaws wide open.
"Be careful..."
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By now, Grasswhistle had finished digging the little grave, and lowering his head, he nudged the crane into the hole, and began covering it up again.
"Feathered serpents..." he whispered, and shuddered. Was such a thing possible?
With the last pat, he stepped away and lowered his head once more, paying respect for the deceased crane. "The motherfather giveth and taketh away..." A soft rustling sound caught his attention, and he turned his head to look at Earthbound, who was on the ground wrestling with a feather. He must of plucked it from the crane when he wasn't looking.
He chuckled nervously. Earthbound really did seem to have a fascination with feathers lately... But, that was just a myth... right?Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Graswhistle
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 3:47 pm
A story a story! Let me tell you a story: Return sighed. It wasn’t a heavy sigh, but it was deep- like he had exhaled from his very bones. “I have a story,” he said. Nearby Kin raised their ears in surprise; Return was a listener at these gatherings, never a speaker. Not a few thought he knew no stories at all (beyond those told here), and that he lacked the imagination to conjure one out of his own mind. “It… is not right to say it is mine. I heard it once, when I was a foal,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I could make little enough sense of it then, and not much more now. But those of you who have felt the stirrings of love or passion may better understand it.” “Ugh. You mean it’s a love story?” one colt asked in disgust. Return nodded. “It is,” he said, and his tone was without irritation or apology. “Once, when much of the world was water, and the Motherfather had yet to make the Kimeti (I cannot speak for the Kiokote or the Acha; such knowledge of their birth is beyond me), there was a water snake and a song bird. “I always imagined that there were more than one of each, but this was not something the original teller touched on.” He paused for a moment, considering this puzzle. “Never mind,” he said at last, “It does not matter. In any case, there were the two I spoke of. And they were deeply in love.” There was a giggle-snort from a filly in the audience, “A snake and a bird in love? With each other?” A few of her friends also laughed. “And what is so funny about that?” Return asked, completely serious, “It is quite tragic, from what I have heard, to be denied the one you love. And as I said, most of the world was water: there were trees, and there were great lakes. Very little solid ground where two ill-fated lovers could make a tryst. “Nonetheless, they tried- so deep was their passion. She, the bird, would perch on emerging roots, and he, the snake, would try desperately to climb onto what few boulders were not completely submerged. This went on for many years, until the Motherfather was moved to pity for her unlucky children. “One day, Matope came to them, and told them plainly but gently that they could not be together in this world. Not as they were. There was one other option…” Here, the audience was silent and attentive, excepting those that were asleep or particularly inclined to rudeness. Return went on, “A secret mud-hole used exclusively by Matope for the purposes of creation. In it, the Motherfather explained, they could join with one another. But joined they would be ever after: never again two beings with the freedom of separate flesh, but one with two souls in union. “The bird and the snake looked at each other for the last time, and found the answer in the gaze. They would be as one inseparable, rather than two forever sundered. And so, though two creatures went to bathe in the mud-hole, only one emerged. Bigger than both, with the body of the snake and the wings of the bird- a thing of two worlds.” “That’s awful!” one foal cried in dismay. “Why?” Return asked, “So far as I know, the snake-bird never came to regret its choice. And besides, the twinned souls shared their body in bliss until the end of its days.” “So...” a buck started, “There was only the one, then?” Again, Return shrugged. “So it would appear. Have you heard differently?” Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Return
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 4:02 pm
A story a story! Let me tell you a story:
Wings Sleep looked at the small group of kin around her. It surprised her that most were adults, but some fillies and colts made there way sneaking past parents to stay up late to hear another story. The doe turned to the night sky and asked, "What would you like to hear?"
"How the MotherFather came to be!" was a chorus from most of the kimeti.
"The feathered serpents," a small voice said. The voice belonged to the Acha, Above Heartache.
Nodding, "Good choices, but let us go with the feathered serpents." The story was familiar to her, but Wings wasn't going to put it past herself to give a good story. Settling back on her haunches, "Long ago, before we went our ways, there was a buck with a love of trying to mix things together. He wasn't trying to be evil, it was just plain curiosity that made him this way, or the fact that he was dropped one to many times as a foal. Not being one of the most beautifulest of the kin around, the buck wanted to impress one of the does. She never looked at him or even knew he was alive.
"One day the buck was following her, watching everything that she smiled at. Soon he noticed that her favorite of the animals were the snakes and birds." Wings took a breath, listening to the silence of the group. Some of them seemed to remember hearing about a buck like this before. "Now remember he liked to try and mix things together. So he disappeared for years once he saw what the doe favored. He found a cave and began experimenting with animals. At first nothing came of it but a lot of blood loss on his part, until one day... One day he mixed plants together first. Making a potion of sorts that would attract different species to each other. At the time he had some snakes and birds in the cave. He didn't know what he had made, until he watched their ritual. Not long after, a bird laid some eggs and a snake laid hers. Oh the cave was filled with eggs and he had to be careful where he stepped, wondering if he found a way..."
"After hunting he came back to the cave, to find birds with scales and snakes with wings. The birds didn't survive as long as would be expected, for they couldn't adapt to the scales as easily. After a few more attempts, the buck had serpents so large with wings they could lift themselves, not very high, but high enough to seem like they floated. Still he continued to make more, but by that time, he was an old buck so he brought them back to the tribe he had left."
"When he arrived, the doe was now a mare, and more beautiful than he remembered. Upon seeing the serpents, the doe shook her head in disgust, 'Get those things away from me! They don't belong in the swamp, where the MotherFather lives with us.' Before he could stop the serpents or the kin, a fight broke out between them. Many were killed, but the serpents where the ones destroyed, or maybe not."
"Nobody could tell you otherwise, since the cave the buck was working in has never been found. Some say he left eggs there, but with so many years passing by without sight of them, it is hard to tell."
Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for: Wings Sleep
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 4:08 pm
A story a story! Let me tell you a story:
This was all sorts of what the ********. First she was volunteered in leading the group expedition to Rise and Co. (all for the glory of salted duck), forced to share her beauty regimen alone time with Phlox, Crocus, Clematis, Persimmon and Chockecherry (it was a sight to see, all six in mud masks surrounded by floating flower petals), but now "Auntie Doom" was in charge of bedtime stories for this specific night. Laying astride, she scratched her head against a log thoughtfully. Usually these stories had a point. A lesson. A.. moral. Ha! A foreign concept, indeed. This responsibility stuff was odd. Gloom, Look-See and Doom were a tight knit group who grew up on their own. They were their own storytellers. And so she pulled from the furthest recess of her nimble mind, between the cobwebs of dreams and surrealism, a tale on things she knew best: destruction and rebellion. But for her nieces and nephews, a more age appropriate one of course.
It was a lengthy list of creation for MotherFather. The giant Crane had finished ushering forth landmasses amid an ocean, small animals and finally laid her large eggs in the largest pocket of marshy waters. Her favorite of the small creatures were the watersnake. Land and water they could navigate, making them the perfect enforcers and guards for her precious eggs. Their svelte bodies slid seamlessly between crevices of the pile of eggs, rotating them in position for the sun's warmth. She doted on them and they knew it. And like any dutiful child growing up, they tested her patience and boundaries, pushing to see how far they could go. With their bodies, a giant nest of them carved the lanscape, dividing the it into different regions. They barreled through forming canyons, rivers and mountains, altering the landmass forever. Seasons appeared. Snow happened. They sent half of the eggs down those rivers thinking MotherFather wouldn't notice them missing. The eggs landed in all sorts of terrain, with the watersnakes surfing the eggs to ensure they landed safely. All for adventure! They looked to MotherFather. She did not not object, nor did she say much. She had grown noticeably tired after laying her final creation, the eggs. She slept more, each time waking up for shorter periods.
Rebellious, the watersnakes strived to incense her ire once more. They started stealing her feathers. It started out as a game. See who could steal one before she noticed. "Don't wake MotherFather!" was the name of the game. Soon a pile amassed. And honey flowed, and because watersnakes are watersnakes, they slid in the thick amber liquid and found delight when the feathers stuck. They would arch up and dance, proud of their inventions and try to wake the giant Crane. "Look! We have wings, too!" they would joyously yell to the sleeping form. Anything for MotherFather's attention. Of course they couldn't fly, but those were carefree days.
A very bald Crane woke later to the revelry. Like any proud parent, she could not fault them for their growth. While she neglected them, they had made their own paths in life and contributed to what she had created. Life bloomed under their chaotic destruction. She tried hard to hide to her smile. Finally giving up, she arched her head back and forced her body to rise. Looking down at her beloved small creatures, she rewarded their rebellion. Now they could wander about on land, water and air. Her eggs will always be looked after.
And between the this moment and next, it had grown time for MotherFather to sleep for a long while. The eggs had hatched successfuly. MotherFather invited the feathered serpents to slumber with her and so they did. They had their fun. But some stayed behind, always watching over MotherFather and their handiwork, waiting for when she would wake once more.
Entering to win a Feathered Serpent for:Doom
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 7:58 pm
Closed for reading and judging <3 ty for all the entries!
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 9:55 am
Xerianthe – Grand Prize! Semi Custom Feathered Serpent! However! there were so many good entries I got the ok to hand out more prizes! Additional winners! – to receive normal snakes for amazing entries! – 1st - 4th place winners may send a preference list of snakes to me and I'll send back your uncert according to who chooses what. Additional Winners please send me a cert or an uncert of the Kin you just used for your entry and I'll make a custom normal snake for you in thanks for your hard work! SO many amazing entries thank you SO MUCH for entering!
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