The Bull and the Dancers
Enter the Bull, swift, strong and cunning.
The King shakes his head, his deadly crown swinging,
His sleek black flanks shine in the hot midday sun.
A pause, a bellow, a challenge delivered. A glad shout responds, hailing the King.
Wheeling, he finds his foes: bright colors flash as the dancers all bow.
Dirtbound thunder, the bull engages. To tear, to trample, to bloody his crown.
Colors part like a curtain, running every direction: Spinning, sliding, dodging, rolling.
Turning to throw vaulters, hands planted, then spinning
Bright colored handprints bedeck the Bull's flanks.
Now he stops and snorts, considering strategy. Pacing to see what the dancers will do.
The dancers spread out, trailing bright ribbons.
Breaking the silence with coaxing and praise.
Charging one, then the other, the Bull dances among them.
They, sliding under, vaulting over, weaving ribbons between them.
King's crown now a rainbow that streams with each charge.
Haughty, He circles , starts and then stops, conserving his strength.
Dancers now gather to pay their last homage: garlands of flowers hang from their necks.
Now he charges at the center, but on either side leaps a dancer to catch hold of his crown.
Their feet braced on his shoulders, the kings' head is lowered.
He suffers the garlands and dancers' reverent touch.
As one they spring, leaping and dancing.
The Bull shakes his head, and looks for revenge.
One last dance to give him a chance to wreck vengence
They dodge and leap and beccon and spin
Then the dance done, they forfit the grounds finding refuge behind walls of stone.
Stands the Bull, heaving and pacing. His head high and proud.
Youths have been tested, bodies and souls.
Sweaty flanks painted in handprints of chalk.
Garlands and ribbons drape from his crown.
But still he is noble, the strength of our land.
The King shakes his head, his deadly crown swinging,
His sleek black flanks shine in the hot midday sun.
A pause, a bellow, a challenge delivered. A glad shout responds, hailing the King.
Wheeling, he finds his foes: bright colors flash as the dancers all bow.
Dirtbound thunder, the bull engages. To tear, to trample, to bloody his crown.
Colors part like a curtain, running every direction: Spinning, sliding, dodging, rolling.
Turning to throw vaulters, hands planted, then spinning
Bright colored handprints bedeck the Bull's flanks.
Now he stops and snorts, considering strategy. Pacing to see what the dancers will do.
The dancers spread out, trailing bright ribbons.
Breaking the silence with coaxing and praise.
Charging one, then the other, the Bull dances among them.
They, sliding under, vaulting over, weaving ribbons between them.
King's crown now a rainbow that streams with each charge.
Haughty, He circles , starts and then stops, conserving his strength.
Dancers now gather to pay their last homage: garlands of flowers hang from their necks.
Now he charges at the center, but on either side leaps a dancer to catch hold of his crown.
Their feet braced on his shoulders, the kings' head is lowered.
He suffers the garlands and dancers' reverent touch.
As one they spring, leaping and dancing.
The Bull shakes his head, and looks for revenge.
One last dance to give him a chance to wreck vengence
They dodge and leap and beccon and spin
Then the dance done, they forfit the grounds finding refuge behind walls of stone.
Stands the Bull, heaving and pacing. His head high and proud.
Youths have been tested, bodies and souls.
Sweaty flanks painted in handprints of chalk.
Garlands and ribbons drape from his crown.
But still he is noble, the strength of our land.
How to witness a Bull Dance
Sometimes the Dance is a stand-alone event, held as a act of devotion to the gods. Most often, however, it is part of a panikos, and is a team competition event. The Vantage Panikos
Conflict Type
Duel
Battlefield Type
Stadium
Belligerents
The Bull
The Dancers
Strength
A Makasing Auorch Bull stands around 180 cm at the shoulder, and weighs in at over 750 kg. He has no natural preditors, and no reason to fear people.
Five adult humans
Casualties
In almost every case, the bull leaves the arena without suffering any damage. There are records of one or two freak accidents, but these are rare and the documentation is questionable.
In ancient times, the bull would be sacrificed to the gods after the dance. However, today a bull that performas magnificently in the areana may expect a long life of ease and many wives.
It is not uncommon for a dancer to be injured by a bull's horns and/or hooves. For this reason Dancers are highly respected athletes.
During the reign of Fornradur, fallen dancers were claimed as tribute, and presumably consumed by the dragon.
In modern times, when an injury occurs, the dancers have the right to forfiet and leave the arena without shame.
Objectives
Quite simply, the bull wishes to gore and trample the annoying humans who are disturbing its peace.
The dancers strive to complete all three acts of the dance and then exit, without taking any touches. A secondary objective is to decorate the bull with colored chalk, ribbons, and flower garlands.
This is a most unique take on the prompt and I definitely approve, because it definitionally fits Summercamp. Bend the prompts to fit your world. I love the principle of this, and the way you wrote it to definitely feel quasi-religious and tie in the history, referencing the past when the bull would be sacrificed, or that fallen Dancers would be offered as a tribute to the Dragon. The style, this almost poetic writing choice is beautiful and evocative, and really paints a wonderful picture as well, and all in all makes a fine addition to your world. What I personally would love to see added, if not here but maybe as its own article of some kind, is a bit more context for that history you briefly reference. What are the origins of this ritual, this athletic conflict that was once a very real blood sport. What was the historic purpose, and to what diety or ideal was the offered sport for? Whom or what is 'The Dragon' referenced. Is that literal? If it is, what has changed so that this is no longer the case. Was the dragon defeated, does it merely slumber? Did it die of old age if such is possible in your setting? But all that is merely a question of wishing to know more, which is the only real constructive advice I could offer, because otherwise, this is a well written piece and I thoroughly enjoyed reading about it. Well done.
Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope to get a lot more connections added to the article after the competition.