How I Got My Feathers - WINNERS

 
Basil-Contest B

I never really thought about small things like feathers when I was a child, well I still might be considered a child but in reality i'm quite older than I look. At times I asked my parents this question 'Can I get my feathers now?' or 'Why can't I just get them early?'. I really did like the thought of something unique tied around my tail, or even on my ear and at times I used to tie the plant I was named after, or 'Basil' on my tail pretending to have feathers. In my true teen years, I could care less about feathers, but around the age 17 I had randomly stopped growing, PPS was rare to happen in teen years but, It was true that I would be stuck in this short immature age for the rest of my life. Of course, there were quite a few PPS Kiamara's that had gotten feathers but I wanted to act grown and mature before I got my own feathers, but I doubted that. I tied a basil left back to my tail and as soon as I was able to I left to start my own life, despite my very young appearance and mind.

Once and a while the thought of feathers came to mind, I normally ignored the though of them telling myself that they were simply things that others tied around themselves for fun, but I finally allowed myself to daydream about getting feathers, after all a little story in my mind wouldn't cause harm. 'Simply something that comes from a bird, nothing special about it' I reminded myself when the thought came to mind knowing that I would probably never grow to get feathers, and I wondered if there really was something special about feathers that almost every other Kia I knew had, but I didn't know, that brought even more curiosity, that I couldn't push away not with the still young mind that I had.

At a time I hid my sadness of being a PPS under a happy smile and seemed to not care deeply about anything really, at that time I had actually snatched a feather off of a Kia named Felyx but before I could find anything different about it he had felt a weight gone from his tail and he yelled at me, but I had gotten used to it and I apoligised before running off. No-One else would take such a desperate measure for something as simple as a feather, but I really truly wanted to know what it felt like to grow, or at least feel like it.

So here I am, still without feathers, the something I always wanted but would never get, like a child because of course, i'll always have to act like one, look like one, but in reality I should be old, much older than I'll ever look.
[469/500]

One Part Brave, three Parts Fool

--

The sun just barely peeked through the tree's yet the birds insisted upon singing their
morning songs no matter the time or weather, and I like that. They were like my dad,
in a way. They always did what they felt their job was no matter the circumstances or
how run down or beat or scared they were; instinct always won.

I on the other hand was more like...a deer, I suppose. I was okay with the birds yet
not very trusting of anyone or anything but myself and the forest around me. I loved the
peacefulness, happy with simply a cool day and a tree to rest under.

And Even though I was the eldest son, my brother Loki seemed to be favored among
my parents, my father mostly as mother was more open and friendly. So, as a result
I chose to spend the majority of my time alone in the forest away from out home, hunting
or just being alone with myself and the wilderness I loved.

One day I woke up just before the rooster crowed, and decided I wanted
to be independent. Like all teens I'm sure, but truth be told I didn't want to leave home.
I just wanted to be an adult, be a man. So I packed up a couple of my belongings,
grabbed my bow, and left before even my mother was cooking breakfast.

I walked for most the day, only stopping once to eat some bread and then drinking
some water from a stream. To be honest, I didn't eat a lot in the couple days I was
gone; I had my mind on my mission, not food.

The third day I was away, I was hunting for a small meal besides bread when I
came across a baby robin on the ground. Normally, you would't think of a small
deed like climbing the tree to put the poor thing back in it's nest as a manly thing
to do, but I did. A true man knows compassion, so in exchange for putting the baby
bird back into his nest with his own brothers, I took two of the red breast feathers
littering the branch around the nest.

The next day, I returned to my own "nest". 'Course, my mother ran to me like
I was still a child; hugging me and kissing me. My father stood in the house, glaring
at me with the cold stare of his; like a raven waiting for it's meal. Later that night,
my younger brother Loki congratulated me after I explained the story to my mother
and him. My father never really talked to me after that.

I still keep the feathers tied to my tail and ear, so the memory is always in my head
and the actions will always be behind me as part of my past. Someday, I hope my
own son will become a man in his own way; like I did.

--

(500 Words)



</3

--
Dear Diary;
it's been about a year since dad's been gone. Zano tries
telling me he's in a better place, but I don't really see how.
The dead can't be any better of than the living, besides
not having to deal with the world's crap.
Zach's been really quiet lately, more-so than usual. Not that I
blame him, being raised by your older sibling is hard on both
of us. I just want to grow up and be the mom i never had;
and i want my kids to have a father like mine was..
I....I just wanted to get my feathers from dad, I guess.

--

"Puma?" I heard my older brother - Zano -
call from the living room. sighing inwardly,
i put the plates I had just cleaned away and
dried my hands on my shirt as I peeked my head
into the next room. "Yeah?"

"Telli and I have something we...or I, need to
give you." He said. It wasn't my birthday, or
Christmas, so at the time i was quite confused.
I already had a cat, so it couldn't be that.

Walking over to the couch, I plopped
down and crossed my legs. "What is it?" I asked
Zano quietly; and in response he showed me a small,
wooden box with a feather carved into the top.

"I know how hard dad's death was on you and Zach,
and I know how much you wanted to get your feathers
from him. truth is, you can't and I'm sorry. But
that doesn't mean you have to stay a child forever."
Zano explained, handing me the box.

i sighed as it fell into my hands. i didn't like
talking about the fact dad was gone, but I opened it
anyways, Letting out a gasp; I covered my mouth.

inside were three feathers; two like a blue jay's, only
green.. The other...white the sides tipped with green
and orange. Dad's feather.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I took the white
one and tied it around my wrist - ignoring the other for
the moment. "Z-Zano I..." I choked out, covering my mouth
to hold back a sob that should've been released long ago.
"What about Zach's?"

"Don't worry, mom and dad had matching feathers. He'll get
his when he gets back from Bliv's house."

--

Dear Diary;
in the end, it turns out I got both mom and dad's feathers.
obviously I got dad's 'family feather' as we called it. The
two green ones were mom's, she left them with us when
she left because they had been a gift from dad and she
didn't want any memory of him when she was gone.

I keep dad's around my wrist, like he did, so I can always
hold his handhold his hand. The others are on my ear. The
others are on my ear, so mom will always be on n my mind,
and my tail, because she wasn't really part of of my past.
--
(499 Words)

Competition B for Casper:


Casper sat with his back to the post of the Boardwalk while his pet bat, Omen, squawked and fluttered about for food. Casper handed him a piece of dried mango to calm down his little friend, then turned his attention to the Kiamara’s that were taking in the sights and attractions of the pier. He often kia-watched during the day; living on the street with no family to speak of, he had nothing better to do. He loved watching all of them with their different personalities and quirks, but his favorite thing to look at was their feathers.
He loved seeing all of them. Different shapes, colors and patterns mesmerized him. He, having PPS, would never get feathers of his own. This bothered him deeply, right to his soul. He didn’t feel like a real Kiamara without having even one, single feather. He tried ridding this feeling by tying his old blanket around his tail and wearing a bat charm around his neck, but it just wasn’t the same.
He often fantasizes about how his feathers would look. He wonders that if he had a family, would they come from them? Or perhaps he would have feathers that looked like his coat in some way. However, the way he wishes to acquire them most is to use the ones he collects himself. He often walks along the beach beneath the docks, picking up feathers of various gulls and scavengers. He has even found more exotic feathers that have either washed ashore or molted from the numerous pet birds that a performer of the sideshow keeps.
Finding the feathers has become a hobby of his. He finds the ones in the best condition and keeps them pressed in an old book he found, marking all he knew about the feathers: the species, how they were shaped, what in particular he likes about them. On occasion, he would find an extremely special feather that he would take extra care of. He loves finding pure white ones and experimenting with dyes, paint, and any other pigment he can muster and experiments with various color palettes and designs. He would then hang them around makeshift room. At night as he falls asleep, he looks at all of the feathers he’s created and falls asleep, only dreaming of his heart’s wish to get a feather of his own.
Snapping away from his fantasy and memory, Casper stood up and placed Omen on his tail. He carefully slid down the post, landing on the soft, sandy beach below and started walking along the water’s edge. He watched the ebb and flow of the tide, waiting to find his next treasure.
[444/500]

F u r f u r

The night he receives his feathers is much the same as any other; he dreams of falling.
The sky was dark at the time - empty, starless - snow fell alongside him, though the flakes were large and seemed misshapen. It ended, as always, with a sharp rush of consciousness on the floor of a large forest in winter, surrounded by snow and with a sudden feeling of familiarity. Awakening on the floor of a snow-devoid forest, he quickly shook off the strange feeling it had left him.
It had been a long time since he had last let himself ponder the nature of the dream.
'He' is the one known as Furfur, a pale-furred teen, now nearly an adult, who wandered the forest alone. Those who had raised him had told tales of how a lone Kiamara found him as a child in the depths of these woods and brought him to them.
Perhaps it was the dream that had drawn him back here, or perhaps the formless rumours of the one fitting the description of that lone Kiamara from his childhood that had somehow, mysteriously, wormed their way into his circles. He couldn't really say, but from the way the older Kiamara seemed to have predicted his arrival and now stood before him, he was beginning to doubt either had been a coincidence; he hated being manipulated.
"You've come for them." Their voice was gruff and knowing, holding no trace of fear like many of those he made contact with. It was almost refreshing. What the other knew he had come for though, he did not, and the confusion must have shown clearly on his face, rather unusually, for they began to speak again.
"When I found you, you were camouflaged amongst the snow and almost hidden by your surroundings; these brilliantly white feathers. I thought them important, kept them for you since I thought you'd be back, but it is strange. I've stored many feathers over my lifetime, but these... There is something different in their nature. Over time they darkened, some even crumbled away to ash, and now... Well, you see." The Kiamara held out four matte black feathers, each tipped with white.
Carefully, perhaps even hesitantly since the other gestured for him to take them again, Furfur took the feathers offered him — and the feeling of familiarity from his dream resurfaced, causing him to stumble. A smirk began to play on his lips as he gazed almost reverently at the tainted feathers so dark against his white fur.
Something told him these were perfect.

{ COMPETITION A - 430 words }