05-06-2007, 02:15 PM
((Note, per Serous request we are helping him write his entry application, please take it with a grain of salt as we his raiding partners are not always the nicest of people. I will make sure that he goes through the static form as well. Please feel free to add any appropriate marks to his story to make for a truly unique application.))
The Life of Serous
Humble are a hero's beginnings. I am not sure about my lineage, for my first memories were a confusing haze. I spent my formative years in a fenced in locale near Lakeshire, amidst those I had always assumed were my family. The days seemed to pass slowly, the warm sun on my back, a mouthful of grass ever being gnawed upon. The occasional strange interruption would occur as the humans occasionaly came by and began the process of milking us. I would moo in frustration at them each time they attempted this, trying to convey in the simple language of my youth that I was not made for the process of dairy.
There came a day when I found I had to strike out on my own. After careful examination by the human whom I knew as "The Farmer" I had been placed into the Pen with another male of my tribe. Finnaly I had felt that I was where I had belonged. Then the horrible awakening came upon me. For I had learned some of their language in the time I had been amongst "The Farmer" and his compatriots. It was the moment that I heard the words "Breeding Stud" and was not being referenced towards me that I found it within myself to push up off my hands and begin running, my youthful voice a high pitched "MOOOOO" of terror as I lept over the wooden fence, bell clanging around my neck while I made my way into the wilds.
((thus ends part one))
The Life of Serous
Humble are a hero's beginnings. I am not sure about my lineage, for my first memories were a confusing haze. I spent my formative years in a fenced in locale near Lakeshire, amidst those I had always assumed were my family. The days seemed to pass slowly, the warm sun on my back, a mouthful of grass ever being gnawed upon. The occasional strange interruption would occur as the humans occasionaly came by and began the process of milking us. I would moo in frustration at them each time they attempted this, trying to convey in the simple language of my youth that I was not made for the process of dairy.
There came a day when I found I had to strike out on my own. After careful examination by the human whom I knew as "The Farmer" I had been placed into the Pen with another male of my tribe. Finnaly I had felt that I was where I had belonged. Then the horrible awakening came upon me. For I had learned some of their language in the time I had been amongst "The Farmer" and his compatriots. It was the moment that I heard the words "Breeding Stud" and was not being referenced towards me that I found it within myself to push up off my hands and begin running, my youthful voice a high pitched "MOOOOO" of terror as I lept over the wooden fence, bell clanging around my neck while I made my way into the wilds.
((thus ends part one))