Clumsy dove in the dark

Chia, an Oakfern doe that I try to bid on here
The Western Isles: Design Your Own Auction
April 2013 Auctions: Design Your Own
Auction is open. Note the group with bids, see the main page for deadline.
1) It is open to everyone, provided they have no yet reached their 3 starter limit.
2) This auction is run almost exactly the same as an art auction, the only difference is that YOU design the character and their genetics.
3) Gender, type, personality etc. are up to you
4) HERE'S THE CATCH: All characters must be used on the Western Isles, it MUST be a purebred Windborne or Oakfern and used in these herds.
5) Send all bids in a note to the group. Bids in comments will be IGNORED.
6) There are 10 winning slots up for grabs.
Tips on how to win
- Follow the above rules
- Include concise detail
- Don't try and do something completely different to any of the designs you've seen previously. Seriously, if its absent its probably absent for a reason.
- Read the Windborne and Oakfern herd journals
- Have a look at bids that have won other aucti

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Winter, Year 756 of the New Age
Rabbit River, Oakfern / Quite close to the Blackwood border, facing Red River

The creature crowhopped or walked as best as it could through the dark burrowlike cave, only stopping now and then to listen. Sure enough, there was a sound, almost silent but with a keen hearing the creature had no problem picking up the rhythmic beat of hooves coming closer. As he looked back, the glow from the cave walls reflecting in his large yellow eyes, he saw a glow similar to the fungus that was growing on the cave walls, but this was moving, one part bobbing, and it was swinging from side to side like it was searching or looking for something. It almost looked like a narrow face with thin eyes that stood out…and it was coming this way. If he had just learned to fly a little better by now he would have taken to his wings, but he was still young and had just recently learned to master flight so for now this less elegant way of moving had to do. If he had been able to get to his wings, he would have done so excellently with his splendid night vision. She called him a ‘clumsy dove’ sometimes but he certainly moved better than a dove! It wasn’t his fault things appeared out of nowhere…making him trip and fall, it was a good thing he had strong claws…otherwise he would have slipped off more branches than he had done so far…or tripped on other things…like her hooves… He had snapped his beak at her at that comment though. The nerve! At least when he was airborne he flew just fine, the actual take off and especially the landing part…well…that was more of a controlled crashlanding…most of the time.

Didn’t he come this way before? He panted a little with his beak open as he looked around, he had hitched a ride on her back before and it hadn’t felt like they had gone that far in, but it was longer than he had thought. The twist and turns all looked the same to him and it left him a bit confused. Besides the illuminating fungus there was no light to guide him the right way, there was no moon in here. He remembered some of the special markings on the cave walls, those that weren’t natural but clearly made by something else. He knew she had made them, mostly because he had seen her paint them. She did them by breaking off a tree root from the outside, as fresh as possibly and then she had stomped and bit on one end so the fibers became soft and separated. She had used the same glowing fungus smear she used to plaster on her own fur to ‘paint’ the walls, holding the rot in her mouth. Depending on the size of the root she used as brush the markings could be both thin and thick. There were pictures inside her head she said, like things she saw before her eyes as she closed them, things, markings, and she was claiming that someone told her about this, whispered these words to her when she slept on what she should paint. It was a kind voice so she wasn’t scared. The doe claimed someone named Gealech watched over her, kept her safe so this voice didn’t scare her. She didn’t even care she lived here alone. Or not really alone she had said with a smile, giving him a nudge and ruffled his feathers making him let out an annoyed hiss-book. Did she know how long it took to look this well-groomed?

She had painted her face markings with this glowing smear, as well as her legs, made by the thinnest root brush she had. One of her more priced brushes was a feather from a much bigger owl than himself. Another gasp came from him and he thought he heard the footsteps grew silent. As carefully as he could he hopped to a section of the cave where he hoped he could hide. She came closer and called out in a soft voice;

“Oh…Boo…where are you Boo…you know I will fiiiiiind you…you are lost…aren’t you…this is a dead end you know…”

He stood still, hoping his feather would look…well…feathers couldn’t look like bedrock or a boulder…but if he stood still enough she might not see him against the real ones. Suddenly the flat stone he had hopped up on flipped up since he stood on the edge of it – the wrong edge apparently. The stone wiggled, flipped over and something splattered up on him, something that, until he stepped on the wrong part of the stone, had been covered by a couple of big leaves. He let out a startled sound and flapped his wings to find his balance. It was sticky, a bit smelly and plastered his feathers and down together. Of course he fell on his back, despite his attempt to avoid it. Boo wasn’t sure if it was luck or not…given how he probably looked now, it was not something lucky since he had landed on another flat stone with something sticky. He shook his head repeatedly, trying to get the smear off him.

Laughter, filled with mirth, filled the cave, and echoed out through the different paths from this little hall, carved out for many, many years by dripping water. The small owl, normally a dark chocolate-brownish-red, and spotted with white markings on his plumage now sported a nice mixture of lightblue, green and purple fungus smear all over, some had even splattered up on his face, covering his beak and part of one eye forcing him to just squint as he gave her an stink eye. How dared she laugh at him? He was Boo, the mighty…the spook of the night…the greatest master hunter of them all…

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Name: Chia (Named after an South America female diety [link])
Age: 4 (born early summer in the year 752 of the New Age)
Gender: Doe
Height: 7hh
Body Type: Light
Herd: Oakfern
Magic Type(s): black magic/water
Color: Sable Cream Dun Fawn (Sealbrown + cream + champagne + dun)
Genetics: Ee/Ata/nCh/nCr/Dd/fwfw/RxRx
Proposed Position: Herdmember
Use: The Western Isles
Personality: Curious, artistic as well as one of the herd traits, resourceful. She knows the old stories of their plight, about the injustice put on their people, they are in her blood. Despite her curiosity she is a bit suspicious of strangers however and naturally so if they are larger than her own petite frame. She dont really see herself as bitter as her father about the Oakferns lot in life, about the land they got to live in. Sure its a challange, but challanges are meant to be overcome. She cant hold a grudge for that long, and this perhaps separates her a little from the others. She firmly believe that Gealach will find a way for you with his devine light, you just have be patient and observant enough to see it, to see beyond the dark caves. With her curious nature she often ventures out in the area close to her cave to investigate the world, bringing back things to her cave as her own little treasures. She likes to "paint" on the cavewalls, using a soft root that she have bitten and stomped on in one end creating a sort of brush, or use a sturdy owlfeather. What she paints is things she "see" when she closes her eyes, sometimes she is sure that its Gealach that whispers to her what to paint even if she dont know this for sure. (Her paintings are like the ochre cavepaintings in Kakadu (Aus) or the non-figurative/representational (abstract) paintings on Hook Island (Aus), of course not as pretty and precise as these since she have to "paint" with her mouth using a stick)

History: Chia is living away from where most of the Oakfern fawnlings live, in a small cavesystem near the Blackwood border, facing the Red River. She have grown up without that much contact from other Oakferns besides her parents. After a attack from a young Blackwood stag where her father got injured causing him to limp for the rest of his life, her eldery parents moved back to the Moonpool to live with one of their older daughters, after his father cursed the 'tall ones' as he called them for the last time. Chia, the lastborn of their five fawns remained behind in their old cave, feeling she couldnt leave since it was something with this cave that spoke to her. She is intruiged by the stories about the others fawnlings and would like to know more about them, despite what they done to her people in the past. Under one of these outings she found a trashed (Southern Boobook) owls nest where there was just one surviving chick. Who had done such a terrible deed she didnt know. The chick had already started to shed most of his down and had started to shed to his youth plumage. When no parents came back to feed him she suspected something had happend to them as well and brought him home to her cave and named him Boo after the sound he make.

Speed: 4 (max 7)
Stamina: 3
Strength: 2 (max 4)
Experience: 1
Breakdown:
+1 Speed (Light build)
+1 Stamina - stater bonus
+1 Strength - stater bonus
+1 Speed - starter bonus
Herb Lore Level: Basic [0]
Magic Level: medium Water magic [11]

A clear view of her colors/markings can be seen here:





Ref: [link] by *daftopia