*is veerrrry tempted....* Must see if I have time this month.
*Was tempted* *Gave into temptation*
Unexpected entry-age! Spur-of-the-moment entry-age!
The griffin/gryphon/however you wish to spell it, I originally coloured blue... but being unhappy with the blend of blue tones, I turned it green. Yes. Go green!
And as you can probably tell, the background was a very rushed affair. ^_^" Eh well. T'was fun!
P.G (A.k.a Pierce Guinn -but nobody could be bothered to actually call him that... least of all himself) hadn't exactly had the easiest life. Born and raised at the Opaque Cliffs above the boiling sea, on a stormy night (or so he said. Really, it was during a lovely sunset on a calm Autumn day), things had been against him from day one. Not only had his family not been the most supportive bunch of people (leaving him at age seven with only a "you're old enough to survive on your own" for a goodbye wasn't the typical actions of a nuturing family), but after watching his wings sprout into tiny buds, then slowly lengthen and grow, he found himself in a horrible predicament.
He could not fly.
Not that he'd realised it at first. So it was a good thing that he had the deep sea below him, instead of painfully solid ground, as he futilely attempted to prove wrong everyone who told him that it was impossible to fly with such stubby, deformed wings.
It wasn't that they were useless -just absolutely inadaquate for flying. When swimming, they were great; when falling from great heights... not so great.
Leaving the cliffs, as every other fully-fledged Opaque Cliff youth had done before him (but on foot, not in the usual fashion of going by air), he'd set out to find his place in the world. Or rather, just set out to do something other than fishing and whiling away the days sitting on a cliffy outcrop, or flinging himself off in another attempt at flight. He was bored, and needed a change of scene.
That was when he found the answer. Gryphons! As soon as he set eyes on the beautiful, air-free creatures, he knew he had to have one. It took him every ounce of his wit, strength, and rescources, along with a massive dose of annoying pleading and hassling, to find his way to getting a mount. But he suceeded; and at that moment, the friendship between P.G and the parakeet gryphon Budge began.
Soaring over mountain and sea, and poking fun at the much slower winged people travelling solo, they voyaged across the continent; delivering mail as one of the many skilled postmen teams of the Air Mail business.
But this wasn't how P.G planned to spend the rest of his life. Each day of flight and building the bond between him and his mount, he viewed as another day of training.
He knew that one day they'd be strong enough to enter the races. And then, in front of all the world, he'd prove for once and for all that Pierce Guinn could fly.
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