ORIGINS: The characters in the original series have peacock tail feathers in their hair. And if you take a closer look, you will see that the promise of these animals was already there. All that was needed were one or two more brushstrokes to bring them to life.
I am a cross between a peacock tail feather and a hedgehog. I have everything I need to make my way. The beauty and the means to hurt those that get too close, threatening my happiness. I may leave a few droplets of blood in my wake, but that doesn’t make me heartless. On the contrary, it just goes to show how big my heart really is. Because my feathers say that beauty is green, that it is blue and brown. Like copper. Like blood, as soon as it dries up. So, you see, I am not without pity. I always leave a little bit of beauty with those I hurt.
You don’t have to tell me that it is easier to fall in love with the stars. With a dream. With far-away things. I already know that distance preserves beauty. I have the eyes of an owl, and a peacock tail feather for a heart. Beauty is what I live for, and I don’t want my blood to answer any other call. All I want is for my heartbeat to stop sounding like a hooting owl. I need to see beauty close to me. Within touching distance. Just once. At this point I don’t care if it breaks into a thousand pieces. I will take them. Each and every one of them. To stop this ugly loneliness, even if it is just for one heartbeat.
No, I am a peacock tail feather. The beauty of green grass and blue skies, that’s me. I guess you could call that prairie dog an unwelcome guest. Or maybe just a hungry, tick-tocking clock. Chew-chew. Chew-chew. Chew-chew. It won’t be long before the only color I have left is brown. Wrinkles in my skin instead of cracks in the ground. But I still haven’t broken into tears. I still have enough grass left to tickle my feet and lift the corners of my mouth. The sky is inviting me to fly, and there isn’t a single cloud of dust in sight. Not yet. So, I will smile. Louder than that clock. And I will make the most of my beauty.
I have lost count of how many times I have been pitied. Apparently, I have the beauty of a peacock tail feather, but it is wasted on me. Because I don’t have the venom of a snake, not even its charm. When I was young, someone tried to teach me. She tried to pass down all her skills, all her tricks to me. But I didn’t like the taste it left in my mouth. My dreams were too bright, I blame them for misleading me. For making me underestimate this life. But I made my choice. And now I have to live with its consequences.
I don’t mind being ugly inside and out. If it means that I can protect the beautiful thing that I love, I will gladly pull out all my quills and use them to build a barrier around my love, so that nothing and no one spoils its beautiful heart.
I have never hated anyone more than I hate this owl. I know that it can’t help being far-sighted, that it can’t see how ugly I am. But I feel uglier with each passing night. Because the owl keeps putting dreams in my eyes, and I know that I will never be able to fulfil them. Not in a way that would do justice to their beauty.
Beautiful? Why would I waste my time trying to be something that doesn’t come naturally to me? I already have a family that loves me. Have you ever heard of unconditional love? That just means that I can be as ugly as I want, because they will never recall their love.
You must have mistaken me for some other snake. My eyes aren’t green. I don’t hate beauty, with all the venom in my tongue, because I feel ugly and I want those peacock tail feathers for myself. If I was beautiful, all the venom in the world wouldn’t be enough. I would have learned, from a young age, to charm my way through life. And hate would be what I would feel, what would consume me, when a better charmer got in my way.