Hello Jammers! Ok, firstly my contest has ended and Kinyonga won! Well done! Here are the answers:
A group of foxes is called a skulk or a leash
The Glowers are the shamans of Liana Glow
Flies actually eat a little in proportion to their size
A March moon is called a Storm Moon or a Worm Moon
Mt. Elgon is between Kenya and Uganda
Yes they can, as they're both of the same species: fox. It's like e.g: Persian cats mating with Siamese ones
A September moon is called a Harvest moon because it gives farmers enough light to continue harvesting after sunset.
In Liana Glow there are nine different animal species.
You all got this right.
Little blue penguin is the smallest.
Ermines live further north than stoats and thus turn white in the winter.
A ferret is a tame polecat.
A brock is the old country name for a badger.
And secondly, as the contest ended with only one round, I'm having another one, a Story Contest! You have to right a story, at least two A4 pages long on Microsoft word or whatever writing facility you have on your computer, and copy and paste it into the comment box. You can write about one of these subjects:
Animal Jam shamans and/or spirits
Your own AJ animal
Animal
Animal-magic
Human-magic
Please put your username and age with it. (If your age is private info you can put your age group e.g. 5-7, 8-10, 11-13, up. I need your age so I can judge your story).It must be your own work, do not use someone else's story, that's just not fair. I will judge your story for most interesting, most fun to read, best grammar, punctuation and spelling - do not use text talk and so on, like....
Wen me woz lttl me lked mnts & ppl. Me did dis, me did dat. Idk wht me fav food is, ik me fav drink tho!
Ok, that took me a while to write! It's hard if you don't often do it. I hope you don't think this is too much like essay-writing. The prize is:
MYSTERY PRIZE!
I hope that doesn't get you all falsely excited, because it's nothing really more interesting than usual. Good luck it closes on the 17th of September!
Flies actually eat a little in proportion to their size
A March moon is called a Storm Moon or a Worm Moon
Mt. Elgon is between Kenya and Uganda
Yes they can, as they're both of the same species: fox. It's like e.g: Persian cats mating with Siamese ones
A September moon is called a Harvest moon because it gives farmers enough light to continue harvesting after sunset.
In Liana Glow there are nine different animal species.
You all got this right.
Little blue penguin is the smallest.
Ermines live further north than stoats and thus turn white in the winter.
A ferret is a tame polecat.
A brock is the old country name for a badger.
And secondly, as the contest ended with only one round, I'm having another one, a Story Contest! You have to right a story, at least two A4 pages long on Microsoft word or whatever writing facility you have on your computer, and copy and paste it into the comment box. You can write about one of these subjects:
Animal Jam shamans and/or spirits
Your own AJ animal
Animal
Animal-magic
Human-magic
Please put your username and age with it. (If your age is private info you can put your age group e.g. 5-7, 8-10, 11-13, up. I need your age so I can judge your story).It must be your own work, do not use someone else's story, that's just not fair. I will judge your story for most interesting, most fun to read, best grammar, punctuation and spelling - do not use text talk and so on, like....
Wen me woz lttl me lked mnts & ppl. Me did dis, me did dat. Idk wht me fav food is, ik me fav drink tho!
Ok, that took me a while to write! It's hard if you don't often do it. I hope you don't think this is too much like essay-writing. The prize is:
MYSTERY PRIZE!
I hope that doesn't get you all falsely excited, because it's nothing really more interesting than usual. Good luck it closes on the 17th of September!
Mes will enter! I've started a shaman story I'll just have to finish it :P (but not Amy or Marco)
ReplyDeleteOk great! :) But PLEEAASE don't call him Marco. It doesn't suit him at all. I wish AJ HQ had more imagination. You're the second entry (my sis has entered but not commented her story yet).
DeleteI'm really looking forward to reading your story ;)!
~StarryGem
I know i just forgo his other name! Meep. I thinks I'm going to write about Edmund/Twiga ^.^
DeleteOK cool! I'm looking forward to reading it!
DeleteMeep Starry!!!!! Here is my entry, and please, jammers, do not think she is biased in my favour, because she isn't.
ReplyDeleteDragons hey? Big, red, winged, fire-breathing, Chinese mythical creatures? Big, not always. Some dragons can be as big as my little finger. Red, definitely not always. Some dragons are green, blue, pink or yellow… In fact, they can be any colour at all. Winged, most of the time. Some however are more like dinosaurs with no wings. Fire-breathing, not always. For some it is just smoke, others ice or water. Chinese, nope. Ok, most of them come from Asia but they can live all over the world. And not just in this world, in others too. And mythical, absolutely not. Dragons are real. I know what you’re thinking – yeah, yeah, as if. Well, think what you like. But as this book is only for people who believe in dragons, you may as well put it down. Actually, don’t. Hopefully by the time you’ve read this you will have been converted. Anyway, this Saga begins when Star had just hatched. She was a rare kind of dragon, named Spark Dragons, for they didn’t exactly breath fire, they breathed sparks. Small sparks of different colours. Red, yellow and orange ones could create fire if wished, and blue, green and white ones ice or rain, and so on. Anyway, back to Star. She had just hatched out of a large green egg with blue flecks. She was the first of three hundred babies to hatch. Her mother who was watching her from next to the nest, and who seemed enormous to the dragonling, lowered her head and nuzzled her baby, sending forth several sparks. Star opened her small mouth and gave a yawn, displaying her teeny little teeth which were (like in all dragons) very sharp. The baby dragon was light green with small, dark blue spines on her tail and running up her back. Within an hour all the dragonlings had hatched.
‘Now then,’ murmured the mother dragon softly, while her massive bright red tail swept the clearing behind her. ‘Stay here, little ones, while I go and get food,’ she covered her nest with dry leaves and went in search of one of the two items of food which Spark Dragons ate: wild figs and wild boar. The dragonlings weren’t yet old enough to feed on wild boars, so the mother dragon (who’s name was Flame Flower) collected an enormous quantity of figs and took them back to her nest, where the dragonlings squabbled hungrily over the figs. She smiled and nudged an escaping dragonling back into the nest. A week or so past like this until the dragonlings started to want to explore. Star was the most adventurous of the lot. Soon she had thoroughly explored the clearing and her mother didn’t even notice for her light green colouring helped her blend in with her background. As soon as Star was one month old she was eating meat, mainly small rodents, reptiles and insects though. A week later all the dragonlings began to grow at an alarming rate and change to different colours, for green was just their baby colour. Star’s body now had a dark red hue, while her wings had just darkened a little. Star was fine with this, for she could blend in with the darkness of night, and the forest leaves and shadows. Flame Flower sighed for she knew her brood were almost ready to go off by themselves. Another week later she made sure all her dragonlings were in the nest (which was getting rather small for them by now) and said softly ‘Dragonlings, now is the time for you to go out and fend for yourselves.’
‘Yippee!’ squeaked Star, who was now three foot long and very beautiful.
Most of the others, however, looked rather nervous at the thought of having no one to protect them. For outside of the protection of their nest there were thousands of predators for a young dragon; eagles, large snakes, wolves, foxes… The list was endless. Star jumped out of the nest and flapped her small wings. They were not yet big enough for her to fly with, just to create a breeze strong enough to cause a few leaves to fly off the leafy forest floor. Star sighed but soon cheered up, she was that sort of dragon.
I WILL CONTINUE IN ANOTHER COMMENT
THE REST OF IT:
ReplyDeleteThen she said goodbye to her mother and walked off, headed to the mountain range viewable from the top of the first tree she’d climbed while still a dragonling. It was customary for each Spark dragonling to try and explore some unknown place before settling down and having their own eggs. Star thought these mountains looked very frightening, dangerous and cool, so that’s why she set off for them. None of her siblings were going that way, for their mother had warned them of the dangerous Mougihangakou – in other words the Abominable Snowman, Yeti or the Migou. Migou means yeti in Tibetan – the language spoken in guess where? You don’t need to have a PHD to figure that out; Tibet. Tibet is where the yeti is meant to live, although it often goes to other places too. Anyway, Star was beginning the treacherous journey into the Mougihangakou Mountains. Yeah, they were named after the yeti, surprise, surprise. As night began to fall, Star began to worry about where she would sleep. There were rocks and caves everywhere, but who knew what they may conceal. Tigers, snakes or Mougihangakous…
I hope you like it!!!!
~Kinyonga and my age group is I-can't-remember-the-groups but my age is 13, as you know! Lol! :P
hmm comment moderation or no? (test)
ReplyDeleteoh ic.
ReplyDeleteUsername: SkyFyre
ReplyDeleteAge: 9-12, close to 10 (not revealing, but giving a range)
Story (really really long, posted in 2 comments)In the Art Studio, upon a gridded canvas, rests a portrait of a strange rabbit, one you must’ve never seen. She’s wearing ear socks, white and purple, and light dances around in her mischievous purple eyes. Her name is Peck, and though you may not want to hear this story, sit tight and listen with open ears and eyes for a couple minutes.
It must’ve been a great many years ago when it happened- I was very young indeed. I imagined myself to be the great Infinity Arcticpaw, daredevil rabbit and the best artist Jamaa had seen in decades. Loud ‘n proud, one great bunny. Or so I thought.
But then, I met Peck.
“Cya later!” shouted Little as she ran towards her den, soaking wet. I shook water off my fur and ears as I emerged from the river After a while of shaking fur and flying water droplets, I bounded towards Jam-Mart Furniture to see if any updated furniture had been brought in.
Later on, slightly discouraged (for there was no new furniture) and still dripping some water from my fur, I hopped and twisted through the Sarepia Forest and ran towards Coral Canyons. As I did so, I wondered about how many kinds of paints I would need to paint both places. How much red I’d need, and the green, and the brown for the tree trunks and a blue sky….. They used to call me The Funny Bunny because of my habits. Wonder what they think now, years later.
Amid all those reds and oranges of Coral Canyons, as you know, there is a shabby little hut. A hand painted sign of a artist palette at the top suggests that inside is art related. Although it is not here anymore, there used to be a small hand painted sign Amid all those reds and oranges of Coral Canyons, as you know, there is a shabby little hut. A hand painted sign of a artist palette at the top suggests that inside is art related. Although it is not here anymore, there used to be a small hand painted sign at the doorway that read in faded letters: The Art Studio. No one knows how old the place is, but it had been in Coral Canyons long before any of us were born.
Username: SkyFyre
ReplyDelete(2nd comment, need to make ANOTHER)
The Art Studio was my favorite place in all of Jamaa. I hung out there, among all the dusty art supplies and the broken and unbroken canvases. I would take a sturdy looking canvas out of the pile of canvases and use it as my seat. I went there every day, and was never tired of the place. To me, the Art Studio felt like home, a beautiful place, just as beautiful as it was shabby.
That day I felt a great inspiration to create. Create something no one had ever done before, make a masterpiece. The feeling tickled and squirmed about inside of me, until I couldn’t resist it and reached my paw out to a standing canvas. I placed my paw on it, dipped it into a pot of paint and stroked it gently along the rough canvas. I felt a burst of inspiration, light as a feather, rising up within me, and began to paint.
Night approached, and the rays of the moon gently poked through the rooftop window, silver and shining, through a crystal clear pane of glass. My eyelids were slowly drooping, and I brushed my paw against the nearly finished painting, feeling sleepy.
The stars above were twinkling, twirling, twisting through the sky. Or was it only one? I rubbed my eyes, feeling the lids dropping like ten ton tree trunks. Yawning, I stretched on top of the canvas, and covered my eyes with my ears, not knowing what would happen next.
A sudden crashing noise alerted me, and I jolted awake. A dark storm had appeared in the Art Studio! I leaped to my paws and yelled. The windows of the studio were broken, and the door had been ripped off its hinges. A word that sent shivers down my spine and made my heart feel as cold as ice arose in my mind. Phantoms. I crouched down low, trying to stay out of sight, but I felt utterly helpless as the phantoms began to destroy the inside of the Art Studio. My mind shrieked with all its might at me, but my paws stood frozen, and my ears quivered with fear. It was all I could do to stop from being noticed, but I wished so badly that I could fight instead.
A brilliant beam of light seared through the air, white hot, but so beautiful compared to darkness. Bubbles of light burst as the beam slowly faded, and I peeked out from behind a potter’s wheel. The studio was a wreck. Paints were spilled, and jars were broken. My painting had been ripped off of the canvas, and shattered pottery lay on the floor. My tears dripped onto the cold floor, and I shook with suppressed sobs. Suddenly, I felt a paw patting me on the back gently.
Username: SkyFyre
ReplyDeleteTHIRD AND FINAL COMMENT
I looked up and saw a figure standing upright on two legs. Ribbons of black and dark purple encircled her wrists, and a black ribbon was tied at the base of her tail. And her eyes- the most magical of all, shone with the most beautiful light I would ever have seen.
I gaped, then quickly recovered and asked “Wh-Who are you?”
The standing rabbit merely smiled, and while she did, the light in her eyes danced and glimmered. “My name is Peck, the rabbit shaman.”
With shock, I realized. Peck was a shaman! Mira herself must’ve chosen her because she had some great power or talent! I bowed as low as I could, but Peck shook her head and helped me back up.
“No,” she said, “treat me like your own friends and family, for I am a rabbit, an animal just like them. Don’t you think that’s fair?”
“Y-Yeah” I stammered. I felt a bit embarrassed, after all Peck was a SHAMAN. But I felt tingly, sorta like taking a dive in the coldest lake water ever. I’d met a shaman! A shaman!
Peck placed a paw on my forehead, and I looked up. The light in her eyes was inspiring, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. It danced, twirled, and burned like the brightest flame of inspiration. I saw a faint smile on her face, and she pulled her paw back slowly and untied two ribbons from her wrists, purple and black satin. Ever so gently, she wrapped them around my wrists, tying them securely so they wouldn’t fall off. “Inspiration comes through memory and vision.” she said. I nodded, and quietly whispered a thanks.
Dawn was approaching, and the first golden beams of light struggled into view. Soon, more came to join them, and the horizon was filled with golden light that flooded across the sky. As I turned towards the open doorway to admire the colors, I didn’t notice Peck slowly fade away into nothing with a smile on her face.
Today, in the Art Studio, on an old canvas standing in the middle, is a portrait of a rabbit. Her name is Peck, the rabbit shaman, and with a smile and her artistry, she works back to back, with the other shamans to bring light to Jamaa. Her creativity, and her talent make her one of Jamaa’s oldest and best artists. We will follow in her footsteps in creating art, and someday, may we see her.
two A4 pages? what does that mean?
ReplyDeleteTwo A4 pages are...well..two A4 pages! What sort do you use at school?! It's like...hmmmmm... well, make it 3 full comments, or more!
Delete~StarryGem
Turns out actually Im not doing twiga's story. So i did a surprise topic. but i noticed something. Since i'm an author my comments will just be published, not gone to m,oderation. so..eep. P.S. sorry for my poor grammar, i';m using my computer and its so much different than when i comment on my iPod touch.
ReplyDeletei basically use page 1,2,3 etc so 3 full pages on microsoft word?
ReplyDeleteTwo is fine. The Microsoft word pages are A4.
Deletestarry when i try to submit my story it says: your HTML cannot be accepted: must be at most 4,096 characters
ReplyDeletetortiesrock
Hey Starry,
ReplyDeleteI emailed my finished story to Kin. Can you ask her to show it to you? thanks.
Tortiesrock
I've seen it! And thanks! Loved your story! Really hard deciding a winner...
DeleteOk awesome! good luck choosing a winner...
Deletetortiesrock