Link to Sign in post: Here!
Color Group Choice: The Blues
RP/Story:
Hemlock was practically vibrating with nerves throughout the Joining Ceremony - but especially on the day he was to approach the Founders. It was all just so exciting - and terrifying. His fear was silly - his siblings had only told him this a thousand times and, logically, he knew it was - but the idea that he wouldn't be accepted into the Arbor lurked in the back of his mind nonetheless.
It was the only home he had ever really known, after all. His memories of most of the time before visiting The Arbor had become hazy with time, but he couldn't imagine it being somehow better. His family was here - not just his mother and siblings, but the kind rabbits who taught him how to mix berries and dyes to get just the right color for a painting, the does who fussed over him and his siblings while his mom was away, the cheerful actors with their seemingly infinite knowledge of the world, and the guards that ensured their safety. Though he was a rather introverted kit, preferring to stick by his family and dabble in dyes than scramble about looking for trouble, he had found time to talk to at least one rabbit from each post during his time there.
It wouldn't surprise anyone to learn that he had been most drawn to The Blues - the rabbits of the warren who worked in arts and crafts. His mom had instilled in him a great love of art practically since his birth, no matter the medium and no matter the style. He silently hoped the Founders hadn't heard about the time he snuck into the dye stores, coated himself nose to tail in every color he could find, and ran through his mother's burrow like a crazed loon, splattering paint on every available surface - including his mother. And his siblings, now that he thought of it. He had still been disappointed in himself for missing the art lesson his siblings had attended and wanted to be sure his mother knew he was still interested in art even if he had slept through the first big lesson.
Art had helped him come out of his shell a great deal since joining as well. It was the perfect excuse to strike up a conversation with members of the warren - What berries did they use for that piece? How did they paint that on the ceiling? How did they make those bracelets? - and the perfect way to express himself. Even if that was through occasionally becoming a tiny paint tornado. His odd tendency to occasionally speak in rhyme was even appreciated - especially by those from the Yellow troupe, who seemed rather keen to court him to their side after learning this.
But art was his calling. He felt it in his tiny bones.
He hopped forward, in full view of the Council, and took a deep breath.
"Hello! I'm, um, Hemlock - you probably know me, or at least my mom, or my siblings. Pumpkin, and Freckled Apple, and Silent Fog, and Nightshade..." Another deep breath - he looked up, doing his best to put on a brave face and look each founder in the eye, "I-I'm almost an adult, and... Even though I haven't really ever left the warren, I don't want to! I want to stay here. Forever and ever. And... And I want to learn how to be an amazing artist like my mom! And Smudge!"
wc: 575
