Ranger's Roundhouse

[TheSongOfTheStars]

Okay, cool, it wasn't clear that you where talking about stars.

[Ranger of the North]

Okay, cool, it wasn't clear that you where talking about stars.

Whoops, sorry :p

[Ranger of the North]

xxxxx“Trial 02,” the old man began, peering over his glasses at the small girl at his feet.
xxxxx“Yetsir?” She tossed her head back to gaze up at him, dark ringlets — almost dark as her eyes — framing her round, pearly-toothed face.
xxxxxThe man frowned severely in response. “Yes, Sir,” he growled, stressing the clear pronunciation, and she nodded glumly, lowering her gaze.
xxxxx“Apologies, Sir.”
xxxxxHe made no response and sat comfortably back in his chair, fingering the thick book in his lap as he inhaled a cloud of fragrance from his pipe. The girl continued to watch him expectantly.
xxxxx“I suppose,” he began slowly, almost reluctantly, “I had better give you a faux name in case of... discovery.”
xxxxxHis thick brows joined in a disapproving line as the little girl’s expression remained blank. “What now?” he growled.
xxxxx“Name, Sir?” she queried, innocent voice subdued and a little apprehensive. “What’s that?”
xxxxx“Come now, Trial 02, surely you’re not so dull as that!” Removing his pipe, he jabbed it viciously in the direction of the book clasped between her chubby fingers. “What are you reading? What’s it about?”
xxxxx“Peter Pan, Sir; Peter Pan and Wendy and John and Michael and the Lost —”
xxxxx“Yes, yes, that’s quite enough,” he interrupted harshly, waving his pipe. “My point is, Wendy and Peter Pan and John and Michael are all names. And you need one.”
xxxxx“But I have one, Sir,” she said softly. “I thought I was Trial 02?”
xxxxx“Indeed,” he grunted, taking a breath of smoke once more, “and that’s all you’ll ever be to me, girl. But if I’m busted, and you still don’t have a name, the entire country will be outraged.”
xxxxxShe watched him, hugging her small legs comfortably to her chest, strange new thoughts and feelings swirling in her mind like a hurricane of bewilderment.
xxxxxWhat did busted mean? Who, or what, wanted to busted him anyway? And what did he mean by implying that ‘Trial 02’ might not be acceptable — after all, who else was there to hear it?
xxxxxIn her books there were other people in the world, but she had never seen any evidence to prove that that was accurate in real life.
xxxxxHe had often puzzled her over the three years she had been alive, but never as badly as this.
xxxxx“Mm. I have it,” the old man said finally, leaning comfortably back in his chair and nibbling his pipe approvingly. You’ll need all the strength you have. I think it fits. Kaia.”

[Silver Pandorica]

Ooh! Mark so I can read later, if that’s alright?

[TheSongOfTheStars]

O,O

[Ranger of the North]

Ooh! Mark so I can read later, if that’s alright?

Sure, that's fine, thanks!

O,O

*sniggers*

[Ranger of the North]

October twenty-sixth(?) 2017. Originally written for Py's October Writing Challenge! (Original post w/ prompts.)

xxxxxA brisk wind sang through the forest, tickling trees and carrying with it the promise of coming rain. Kaia danced to its airy melody, hair snapping around her face, and flung her arms high.
xxxxx“Veil!” she cried. “Spring!”
xxxxxFor so it was. New lives kissed the world with rosy lips, innocent as the smallest child. Delicate blossoms adorned the trees like fairy ball-gowns, and tender young shoots forked like curious fingers from wise old branches. The whole world seemed fresh and green and beautiful.
xxxxx“So ‘tis,” the falcon chirped agreeably, glancing up from his preening. “It happens every year, friend. What’s new?”
xxxxx“That’s my point! Everything!”
xxxxx“Oh.” Veil flexed his talons, avoiding her gaze. “I see. You haven’t —”
xxxxx“What’s your favourite part of Spring?” Kaia interrupted hurriedly, swaying like a drunkard. “I like leaves.”
xxxxx“Leaves?” The falcon whistled, fluffing his feathers and settling them once more. “Whatever for? Personally, I rather fancy the rising numbers of mice and young finches.” He couldn’t help casting his talons a proud glance, and Kaia tumbled dizzily to the ground.
xxxxx“You would!” she cackled, watching as the world spun crazily.
xxxxxGrass prickled softly at her hands as she propped her head up, suddenly serious, and a small sigh exhaled the effects of the spin.
xxxxx“Leaves seem small and helpless, but they’re actually really powerful,” she explained. “After the dreary, lifeless, cold of winter, they herald warmth and the coming of Summer. They know what they’re supposed to do, they know how to get there — and they know how life works —” She paused for a moment to steady herself; press a knuckle to her eyes. “And they’re not abandoned before they’re ready.”
xxxxxVeil crooned softly, then glided effortlessly through the air to perch nearer the girl.
xxxxx“I still prefer mice,” he whistled. “Life is harsh and unforgiving, but they have a wisdom far beyond their age — the wisdom to survive. There are no set paths for their lives. They live happily; freely. They are constrained by no one. And, when life catches them, they die doing what they wanted.”
xxxxxKaia cleared her throat fiercely, not trusting herself to speak.
xxxxx“You should be a bloody poet, Veil,” she mumbled eventually.
xxxxx“Thank you.” The bird bobbed his head, and Kaia couldn’t resist a broken chuckle.
xxxxxSudden clouds swamped the sun. The wind shifted, growling a quiet threat, and the old trees, forsaking their usual cheery nods, flung their limbs skyward and wailed with the tongues of a thousand miseries.
xxxxxKaia’s hair prickled uncomfortably. Shuddering, she took deep breath of the warm, moist air, and rose to her feet. “Is that...?”
xxxxx“’Tis,” Veil affirmed quietly, regarding the sky with sharp eyes. “Hel-lo, October!” He shrieked in disgust.
xxxxxShifting to balance her weight on one foot, Kaia eyed the groping trees anxiously. “We need to run.”
xxxxx“What for?” The falcon’s jagged beak gleamed dangerously in the dying light as he cocked his head. “You had better get a move-on — go!” His words cut off in a sharp screech as the first fat raindrops hissed downward. “Go! I’ll find cover!”
xxxxxKaia broke into an immediate sprint, and tore through the trees like her life depended on it.
xxxxxDancing leaves swirled wraith-like through the air, obscuring her vision. Heavy branches appeared seemingly from nowhere, swiping at her head with deadly force. A snarling, vicious wind clawed hungrily at her heels. Rain pounded her too-thin clothes like furious fists, and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.
xxxxxBut she ran.
xxxxxShe ran, refusing to pause lest bitter cold freeze her bones. She ran, lungs and heart and bones and muscles aching to the rhythm of her blood. She ran — alone.
xxxxxVeil shot like an arrow from the treetops, grazing her shoulder, and a shudder of relief rattled her core.
xxxxx“This way!” he screeched, veering left, and Kaia spun to follow, heedless of the dripping hair splattered against her face. “Here, here! Quickly! Get underneath!” With a final flap of his wings, the falcon spread his talons to land atop a fallen kauri, and Kaia skidded under the trunk without a thought. Leaves and sticks clung to her drenched clothes like glue.
xxxxxShivering, and curling around herself at the furthermost end of the log, Kaia hurriedly flashed a glance over her unfamiliar surroundings. The tree had been torn from its old resting-place long ago, and its roots lay frozen — gnarled fingers, clawing desperately at the air. Shattered branches screamed into the sobbing wind with the hatred to kill a world, and Kaia desperately smashed her hands to her ears.
xxxxxSomething brushed her arm; tapped yet again, and she glanced up in surprise. Nodding cheerfully, a cluster of good, living ferns swayed and danced with the wind; Kaia’s eyes widened as she understood what they were trying to suggest.
xxxxxWhispering her gratitude to the fronds, she huddled like a lost bird amongst the plants. They willingly bore the brunt of the wind’s icy fury, but all the same, she was bitterly cold.
xxxxxEmerging from the ferns with a wet rustle, Veil paused momentarily to regard his friend. “Are you alright?”
xxxxxKaia nodded, not trusting herself to speak coherently; her teeth chattered like sparrows in her head.
xxxxxThe falcon clucked quietly to himself, then broke through the plants and leapt up onto her lap, fluffing his feathers out comfortably for warmth.
xxxxx“You’re frozen,” he observed, nibbling at his chest-feathers, and Kaia nodded again. She curled tightly around the bird, like a toddler cuddling her much-loved, much-needed teddy.
xxxxx“You’re warm.”
xxxxxA tear or two may have soaked into his feathers — or maybe it was the rain. But it didn’t really matter.
xxxxxHuman and falcon sheltered together through that icy day, while the wind screamed its fury to the trees, and the trees howled obscenities back to the wind. They were all they had left.

[Ranger of the North]

Two different short-short-stories! May or may not be related, I didn't reserve enough spots. aaa c':

October thirty-first, 2017

xxxxxWhether it was dream, or memory, or thought, or wish, she could never tell. They were younger back then — or she was; he never seemed to change, and she guessed he was then as he is now. But there was a lilting sway, she could feel it; like a song, or being rocked to sleep. There was comfort. There was warmth and love and care and gentleness, and something rough but somehow soft against her face. There was home.
xxxxxShe knows it must have been a dream.
xxxxxBut she hopes.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

October thirty-first, 2017

‘What do you see?’
“Light. Blurred shapes and colours.”

‘What do you hear?’
“I hear... I hear a voice, and... and it comforts me?”

‘What do you smell?’
“I smell comfort. I smell safety. I smell familiarity.”

‘What do you taste?’
“Nothing.”

‘What do you touch?’
“A breeze over my face; security cradling my whole; a pressure, reassuring, against my stomach; skin against my cheeks.”

‘What do you feel?’

“Want.”

.

‘What can you see?’
“Nothing.”

‘What can you hear?’
“Me. You. Emptiness.”

‘What can you smell?’
“Danger.”

‘What can you taste?’
“Bile.”

‘What can you feel?’
“Restraints. Prison. Bondage. Danger!”

‘How do you feel?’

“Angry.

“Lonely.

“Desperate.

“Alone.

“Angry.”

[Ranger of the North]

Reserved for Richie (14/10/17)

[Ranger of the North]

This was written for school, and honestly? It's one of the only schoolwork-pieces I'm proud of XP I was given three pictures to write a story from (plus I have to add dressups to everything), which you can find here, here, and here! (In that order. Also, they're not my pictures.) Any title-suggestions would be very welcome X) also I googled some Arab lingo so please let me know if I used it wrong

Aziz

xxxxxAziz tore through the city-gates like a demon, robes billowing uncontrollably. Shouts of rage and scornful names followed in his wake, and a stab of pain pierced his heart. They hated him now, the people he had once called friends. They hated him because Murad, outraged at Aziz’s refusal to accept bribery, had accused him of treason against Lady Asma herself.
xxxxxNow he was running for his life — which really wasn’t fair.
xxxxxRasping grasses snatched grimly at his robes as he ran, as if determined to drag him back, and their sharp stalks jabbed viciously at his bare feet.
xxxxxSuddenly, a sharp command rang out, and Aziz’s heart dropped to his toes as he recognised the voice of the garrison commander. “Ready, men! Aim... and fire!”
xxxxxBehind him, following close on his heels, came the shrill whine of flying projectiles.
xxxxxA terrified shriek burst from Aziz’s throat, and he flung himself to the ground as if dead. The earthy flavour of dirt coated his tongue, but he could not allow himself to move. His lungs yearned to draw breath, but he could not breathe. The soldiers laughed amongst themselves at his supposed demise, seeming distracted for the moment, but he could — not — move.
xxxxx“I shall go’n make sure the dog really is dead.” A gruff voice grabbed his attention, and the cold ice of fear wound like frigid chains around his heart.
xxxxxThe eerie wail of a sword sliding easily from its scabbard rent the air, and Aziz leapt to his feet once more — and then he was running again, with furious shouts following once more — and he was pulling away! — and his flapping robe wound around his legs, unbalancing him and launching him over the edge of a hidden cliff before he could blink.

xxxxxSlowly Aziz came to himself, vaguely aware of a wide cave-mouth before him. He lay motionless for a moment or two, barely conscious; wondering why his body hurt — then, with a terrifying jolt, he remembered the soldiers. xxxxxTrembling, he painfully forced himself upright.
xxxxxHe didn’t know where he was — didn’t know where his pursuers were — couldn’t understand how he had survived — didn’t know how he would continue to survive. With a strangle groan, Aziz buried his face in his hands.
xxxxx‘What am I going to do?
xxxxx‘Alsayha!’ He leapt suddenly to his feet, ignoring the messages of aching pain his body sent him. ‘Maybe the cave can help!’
xxxxxHe cautiously advanced on the dark opening, straining his eyes to see... anything, really. The interior was dark as pitch, and a niggle of doubt squirmed in his gut. Should he? Could he dare?
xxxxx“Come, come! ‘E went over ‘ere, this way! ‘Urry!” the same rough voice that had tried to kill him rang out from above, and Aziz dared not hesitate longer — he dashed inside the cave’s forbidding maw.

xxxxxDarkness clouded his eyes, filled his nose with the dull stench of decay, and lay thick on his tongue like a layer of dust. Shuddering, Aziz sank helplessly to his knees. He couldn’t force himself forward — not yet. He was alone. Trapped in the dark. Afraid.
xxxxxSudden, urgent calls, too close for comfort, sent Aziz scrambling deeper into the enveloping darkness of the cave — and his breath caught like a stone in his throat as the wind’s ever-present melody suddenly ceased.
xxxxxAhead, a gleam of light broke the darkness. Frantically he stumbled forward, desperate for relief from the stifling dark, and stumbled into a stone pedestal. Atop it sat a golden lamp, glowing like a spark of hope in the dark. With a strangled sob of relief, Aziz snatched the ornament to his chest and clutched it close, breathing a prayer of thanks to the gods.
xxxxx‘I can see — I can see — I can see.’ He took a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself; tried to calm his leaping heart. ‘I can see, it’s all right — perhaps I can even sell this after I escape, and have a source of income. Because I will escape. It’s all right, it’s going to be all right — but oh, how I wish I could return home and convince them of the truth!’
xxxxxA brilliant light burst from the lamp-spout, and Aziz dropped it with a shriek of alarm. He stumbled backwards, crashing into a wall, and watched, panting with terror as golden smoke poured from the spout. The cave was filled with an eerie gold radiance, and Aziz blinked in alarm as shifting wraiths wound in the smog.
xxxxxHe saw himself exit the cave, lamp in hand. He saw the soldiers charging around the hill toward him, swords drawn; their weapons gleamed wickedly, and he knew that all were prepared to kill. He felt, more than heard, himself yelling, and immediately, golden smoke began pouring from the shining apparition. In it played yet another scene: Murad confronting him; Murad attempting to bribe him; Murad growing angry at Aziz’s refusal; Murad falsely accusing him of treason.
xxxxxWith a dull sucking sound, all smog hurtled back inside the bottle as if chased by a demon, and Aziz dropped to his knees. He blinked dazedly, trying to calm the shivers that racked his body. He knew what to do.
xxxxxStumbling to his feet, Aziz staggered from the cave and out into the open air. He didn’t let himself think.
xxxxx“Ahoy!” he screamed with all his might, waving the lamp above his head like a beacon. “OI! Over here! Aziz! I’m over here!!”
xxxxx“Get ‘im, boys,” a voice growled from atop the cliff, and Aziz sucked in a shuddery breath. He balanced precariously on one leg, then hopped to the other. If this didn’t work — if he could only activate the lamp once — if he was too slow — if —
xxxxxAs the first soldier came tearing toward him, Aziz raised the lamp high above his head and screamed, screamed at the top of his lungs — “I wish they knew the truth!”
xxxxxThe warriors ground to a sudden halt and watched, stunned, as smoke billowed forth from the lamp-spout. Golden radiance filled the air, and Aziz could just barely make out the vague shape of the nearest man. He stood, lamp held high, not daring to move, as his voice and Murad’s vibrated through the air.
xxxxxIt had worked! And the soldiers would believe it, too; it wasn’t in his people’s nature to disbelieve obvious magic. The truth would be revealed, and Murad would be imprisoned for his treachery.
xxxxxHe would be a normal citizen once more. He was free.
xxxxxAziz dropped to his knees, tears of fear, relief, pain, joy, anger, wonder, trickling down his face; he would remember this moment — the light as it freed him, protected him, dazzled him, infused every sense with amazement — forever.