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Scene 40

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Sun May 17, 2015 2:18 am

    “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

    Words: 755
    Freeta, Lionel

    It had been a hasty, thoughtless action; one he already felt terribly guilty for.
    She'd be so angry, she'd try to convince him otherwise; but there wasn't any changing his mind now.
    Even if he did, he was in over his head.
    He ran a paw over his forehead; trying to rehearse his opening words; which would run along the lines of
    "Oh, Freeta, just so you know, I volunteered to go with the army as a cook, so you won't be seeing me for the next four to six months."
    Or
    "Free, I'm leaving in an hour, sorry for not mentioning it earlier."
    Or maybe he should just forget this whole thing and leave without telling her. '
    Not that it would help his morale, but it wouldn't give Freeta the chance to completely crush his fragile resolve.
    He paused in the dark hallway and closed his eyes; it was overwhelmingly tempting to simply leave, someone else would tell her.
    She'd be livid and he'd be nearly a hundred miles away.
    Tentatively decisive, he turned and softly stalked back the way he'd come.
    It was too late though.
    Light staccato patterings on the wood sounded out behind him first, then the angry yap sounded as her multicolored eyes burned into his back.
    He stumbled at the sound, but vainly tried to continue walking.
    "Lionel!" Freeta's voice rang out in an alarmingly angry tone, the staccato sounds doubled their pace.
    He froze mid-step, but his failing nerve denied him the strength to turn and face the doubtlessly upset fox.
    The steps passed him and the small dirty white fox whirled to glare up at him.
    He forced a grimace that could've passed as a distant relative to the smile, if it weren't for the contrast the rest of the features on his face set.
    Maybe she didn't know?
    "What are you thinking?!"
    She knew.
    "Free... listen, I-"
    but she wasn't listening; she was ranting.
    "Why didn't you tell me? How could you do this? What are you thinking...."
    Lionel enfolded his brown paws over her small white ones "Free, I'm going."
    "Not without me you're not," she snapped back, lightning fast.
    He locked his gaze with her's "Freeta, I'm leaving in an hour, how on earth are you going to manage to get leave to come?"
    She stared back at him with the intensity of the sun "I have no idea."
    "Freeta, you can't, there's no way now."
    "Which is exactly what you wanted!" she hissed, yanking her paws away from him "Why are you doing this?"
    "Free, I have to, Lily is..." he shook his head, unable to continue.
    "So that's why," Freeta breathed after a long moment, all traces of anger gone.
    "Why else?"
    "I don't know! I didn't stop to think it out... You didn't give me time to!"
    "Freeta, I really have to go," Lionel glanced nervously down the hall "Are you going to make me leave feeling terribly guilty?"
    She pressed her paws against her eyelids "You're the one feeling guilty?"
    A ghost of a smile touched his face "Freeta."
    "Oh, all right," she sighed "I'm going to be worried sick about you ."
    He chuckled dryly "Worry about the twins, they're the ones who're going to be fighting."
    "Yes, but they don't have anyone with a grudge against them out there," Freeta pressed her paw against Lionel's side, feeling the ridge that would scar him to the end of his days "And I won't be there to stitch you back together."
    "I'll be fine," he assured her again.
    "You'd better be, because if you die, I'll kill you."
    He shook his head "Goodbye Freeta."
    She grabbed his tunic, preventing him from turning "Wait."
    He did so gladly.
    She let go of him to pull out a long dagger, it was of perfect make of a strange blue metl, and handed the polished stone hilt to him.
    "Freeta, I can't take that, you've always had it," he protested.
    She rolled her multicolored eyes in frustration "Therefore, it must have served me well. Now take it, or take me."
    He twisted his lips into a smile and reached out to accept the plain, deadly weapon "Well, in that case, it would be handy to have something besides a sling and stones."
    "Good," her tone and expression where controlled, severe even; which meant as soon as he walked out of hearing she would probably burst into tears; as would he.
    It was only the first time in their relationship that they would be facing life without each other.
    He sighed back the tears "Pray."
    "I already am."



Last edited by TheSongOfTheStars on Fri Nov 06, 2015 1:12 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Scene 41

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Wed May 20, 2015 10:23 am

“Just leave me!”

    Words: 762
    Freeta Shift

    Nausea churned her stomach wildly, forcing her nearly double with the sick pain.
    Every breath stabbed at her sore throat; bringing up the unbearable urge to cough.

    After a few minutes of the horrible hacking, she felt something sweet, wet, and sticky cloying at her lips. Automatically she clamped a paw to her mouth; it came away red with thick blood.
    With a groan, she slumped to the ground; one arm hugging her tossing stomach, the other pressed against the flow of blood.
    Panic began to slowly curl through her aching bones; there had never been blood before. Was she dying?
    No, that couldn't happen, not yet.

    "Shift? Are you alright?"

    "Leave me alone!" the hoarse shout ripped at her throat; bringing a flood that nearly choked her as it filled her mouth and nose.
    They ignored her, and she felt a cool paw pressed against her forehead "What happened?"
    She tried to yell again, but the words disappeared at the back of her throat in a gurgle.
    A sharp gasp emanated from above her; then a strong fist grasped the fur on the back of her neck, and forced her into a sitting position.

    It was pure agony for a few endless minutes, but eventually the coughing eased off, the blood returned to where it belonged, and her stomach slowly ceased its whirling.
    It was then she dared to look up; when she did, it was as though she was going to be sick all over again.
    "Go away Freeta."

    "Not on your life," The fox barked "What's wrong!?"
    "I-its nothing, I'm fine."
    Freeta glared at the stubborn raccoon with a fierce intensity "Coughing up blood is not fine. Are you sick? Has this happened before?"
    Shift groaned and shook her head "I don't have to tell you anything."

    "Fine, go ahead if drowning in your own blood is how you want to go. But let me tell you this; one more week of this, and you can forget about the rebellion, forget about much anything really."

    That pulled Shift short "What... do you mean by that?"
    "Means your going to end up dead, really, and soon," Freeta was playing her, as well as telling her the absolute truth.
    Uncertainty sparkled in the raccoon's eyes as a jumble of confused thoughts poured from her mouth in broken sentences "How do I... but what if... how come... how did...."
    Freeta patiently waited for the flow to run itself out and when it finally did, said "I can help."

    Shift scowled darkly at her "How?"

    Freeta shrugged "I'll tell you if you promise not to immediately reject my solution."
    "Fine," Shift snarled.
    "You won't like it."
    "Obviously. What is it?"

    "Medicine."

    "Oh, I'm stunned," Shift growled "Any other world shattering news?"
    "You'd have to take it twice a week."
    "Not happening."
    "Either that, or you can basically drown from the fluid that accumulates in your lungs."

    Shift shot her a disgusted look bordering on panic "You're kidding."
    Freeta raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't answer.
    "You're not kidding."
    The fox shook her head briefly.
    "Did I ever mention how much I dislike you?"
    "Twice. But hey, at least you don't hate me."
    "You're getting close to that level."
    "Of course. But if you kill me, then you'll never get the medicine."

    "You're rising from dislike to severe aversion."
    "Which brings it down to the question "How badly do you value your life and the rebellion?"

    Shift struggled inwardly with pride and the ever present thought of the rebellion, self-preservence played a smaller role than to be expected in the rusty furred raccoon's mind.
    On one side, taking the medicine would mean being extremely dependent on the fox whom she now had an extreme aversion to, plus in the palm of her paw.
    On the other, if the medicine did what Freeta said it did, then the nausea, the throwing up, the coughing... the blood, could all be gone; if she took the medicine twice a week."

    Freeta could see the raccoon's indecision as it played openly on her face: The burning anger, the blunt pride, the wild resentment, the locked up kindness, and shadowy anger, it was all there.
    She couldn't help but wonder about the strangely mixed up emotions, where and what they stemmed from.
    But she wasn't able to wonder long, for Shift finally came to a sullen decision.

    "Fine. Where's the medicine?"

    "I have to make it first."

    Shift began to sigh, but the noise quickly became a sob of pain.
    "Are you-" Freeta began.
    "Just go!"




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42

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Thu May 21, 2015 5:18 pm

“It’s okay. I promise. I’m here.”
Words: 773
Jocktan, Rebeka

The tunnel was dark; the air was stifling with hopelessness.
Every forced step Jocktan took, carried him unwillingly deeper into the bowels of the foul place.
But the Icean Elf's face remained as it always did, impassive.
It was not a façade, his expression was in tune with his feelings; unconcerned by fear of death nor threat of torture.

An crude shout and the spears around him demanded that he stopped moving; one of the coal-skinned giants moved around him to open a stone door cut out of the same mineral as the granite walls.
The opening revealed a pit of black shadows; a pit Jocktan was shoved headfirst into.

He landed hard on his already cut and bruised hands, the pain sent a small shockwave up his arms.
Ignoring the sting, he scrambled quickly to his feet, only to see the light disappear in a wall of darkness.
Jocktan didn't move as he could see nothing.

But oddly, in a few minutes, he realized he could make out his surroundings quite well.
Well enough to realize the form hunkered close to the floor not five feet away from him.
For a moment, he thought something had died, frozen in that odd position.
But when the form sighed ever-so-slightly, Jocktan was relieved to be wrong.

He stepped closer to the form; something was wrong about it... it wasn't much bigger than a child!
Kneeling to look closer Jocktan felt shock creep into his bones

"Rebeka?"

At the sound of his voice vacant blue eyes turned towards him, followed by an empty smile "Jocktan?"
Her voice sent an involuntary shudder through the Icean Elf; it had a hollow quality in it, there was no trace of the sunshine that usually infused it.
A sick sensation swirled tightly in his stomach, and for a moment he thought he would be ill, but as the feeling stayed firmly rooted in his stomach, he realized it was concern.

"I'm here, Rebeka," he managed softly after a few seconds.

She shook her filthy blond hair "They said you where dead. All of you."
"No, Rebeka, we're fine, all of us."
The hollow monotone never wavered "No, they said."
"They who, Rebeka? Who are they?"

"The voices, the ones they put in me. I have to believe them."
"No, Rebeka, listen to me-" Jocktan paused as he realized he didn't know what to say, a feeling rose in his throat, it took him a moment to identify it as panic.
If only it had been Lebin or Ruth here in the cell; if only neither of them had been captured, if only.... if only.
Breathing deep and swallowing hard, Jocktan resolved himself quickly, he would do what he could.
"Rebeka? Can you see me?" He asked softly.

Her empty eyes remained locked on the wall in front of her "No, I can't."
"Rebeka, look at me," he commanded.

She didn't answer.

He slowly moved until he was directly in front of the Light elf's face "Rebeka?"
For the first time, her staring eyes blinked swiftly, momentarily regained some of their brightness, then, as quickly as they had shone out, the eyes faded back to their glazed over, empty look. "You're dead. They all are."

Jocktan stared back her, wondering what they had done to cause Rebeka to withdraw so deep within herself.
It must've been awful, torture beyond words.
And now she seemed to have literally disappeared; her soul, mind, and heart tucked into some nameless corner of her being, far from the outwards world.

He wondered if it was best to leave her that way; who knew what these demon-like people might do next; maybe he'd end up in the same distant land Rebeka was in.
Then shook his head, this wasn't right in any way, and it wouldn't be right to not at least try and help her.

Reaching out a hand to grip her shoulder, Jocktan peered back into the distant unblinking eyes "Beck! I know you can hear me."

Her body shook under his touch "N-No! You- You're not here! None of you are. Dead! All of you dead! I don't care!"
"You don't care about Lebin, or Ira, or Ruth?" He inquired gently.
She shook harder and Jocktan thought he saw her eyes filling in wetness "My brother..."

"Yes, Lebin, your brother, he's not dead. None of us are."

Tears poured down her dirty cheeks as her eyes began to blink rapidly; she heaved a huge shudder and recognition brightened her pale face when she looked at the Icean elf "Jocktan?"
He gripped her shoulder tighter "I'm here."
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43

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Fri May 29, 2015 1:39 am

“As much as I'd enjoy that”
Kelly, Haldon
Words 757

Kelly steadied herself with a silent breath; and prayed that Haldon was in.
She slipped her hand back under her trailing shirt and checked yet again that the gun was loose in its holster.
Nearly yanking it out when the elevator dinged her floor.

She quickly recomposed herself as she stepped out into the vacant hotel hallway.
With the easy grace of a girl out to visit her boyfriend, she traipsed down the carpet until she reached door five twenty-eight.
She knocked three times, in the same way she had done the hundreds of times before.

"Come in!" Haldon called in his deep, cracked voice.

Heart beating as fast as a runaway race horse she twisted the handle and stepped in.
Haldon was sitting on the couch, reading, but he glanced back at her briefly "Oh, hello Amanda. Krill's out, I don't know when he'll be back, but you can stay if you wish."

"No,I think not" Kelly growled soflty, her hand reaching for the handle of her pistol.

Haldon looked up from his book "Is everything alright with you and Krill? I'd hate to see you two break up."
"Oh, would you?" Kelly couldn't resist the snide remark, English breeding forgotten "Do you know what I hate?"
Haldon stared at her, shocked at the sudden transformation between brother's gushing girl friend to snarling woman.

She yanked the gun out and cocked it "I hate you. You and your brother."

The book fell with a swish of pages as Haldon went pale with shock "W-what?"
"What am I talking about? I'm talking about the time an old man was thrown off a train. Murdered brutally. Remember him, Haldon? He was my uncle. My only living family."

A swear dropped from the man's lips as he started to rise.
Kelly dissuaded him from the action with a meaningful click "Sit down."

Haldon sat "My brother-"
"Your brother is sleeping like a baby with his blood full of drugs and his hands cuffed together."

Haldon swore again "Witch."

"Please kindly shut up or I may be forced to take drastic measures."

Haldon snorted with sarcastic laughter "Kelly, I do believe that is your name, you've already got all the drastic measure you could need, so, are you just going to load a few slugs into my chest and leave it at that?"
"Hardly. You are going to face whatever punishment the judge decides."
"Oh, yes, a proper Englishperson aren't you? Can't just have your revenge in blood and body can you?"

"As much I was would fully enjoy that, no, I am not like you Americans."

Haldon rolled his eyes "So what are you doing here? Revenge? Anger? Grief?"
"Justice."
"How noble. When do the cops get here?"
"That is information I do not care to impart."

"I don't suppose you'd care to impart how you knew it was my brother and I who killed your uncle."

"The Mists of Avalon is nowhere nearly as secure as you'd like to think, information leaks like water and tracking you was easy."
"And tell me one more thing. What made you think of using my brother against himself and me?"
Kelly gave a tiny shake of her auburn hair "That is information I do not care to impart."

He stared unblinking at her for an uncomfortably long minute, a poisoned smile slow growing across his face "You fell in love with him."
Kelly met his gaze "I did not, I knew who and what he was from the very beginning."

Haldon's eyes suddenly went very cold "If you knew who we are, you wouldn't have even tried to outwit us."
"But I did try, and now look where you are."
"Huh, you should be worried about where you're going to be in a couple of months. You don't mess with the Mists of Avalon and come through alive, as your uncle well knows."

Kelly's grip tightened on the handle of the gun "Be quiet."

"Or what? You already said you wouldn't shoot me," Haldon eased himself backwards, slowly using his left hand to reach for the tiny pistol concealed between the couch cushions.

Kelly saw the move, but gave no sign that she did "I said I won't kill you."
"Shoot, kill, not that much a difference," his fingers found the cold steel and his arm began to yank upwards, but the explosion of pain in his should stopped him and catapulted him into darkness.

"Actually, I think there is a large difference.'
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44

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Thu Jun 04, 2015 12:35 am

“I'm...okay.”

Farrarim and Raymond
Words: 799

I couldn't sleep.
It wasn't as if I wasn't tired. I was in fact, exhausted. War will do that to you.
Tomorrow would probably be another bloody battle, I needed rest.

But every time I closed my eyes, I couldn't stem the memories and emotions that finding my brother had stirred.
Trying to sleep would be as futile as trying to light a fire using rain-soaked wood.

Since sleeping was useless, I had allowed myself to drift silently out of the silent war camp. I didn't bother making my presence known to the alert sentries, to their piercing eyes, I simply was another cloudshadow scudding across the moonlight ground.
I had no real destination in mind, no place I cared to go to try and ease my restlessness. It didn't matter as I was unfamiliar with the area anyway.

I reached the line of a cluster of trees and drifted into their shadows for a ways, stopping when I could hardly see the ground in front of me.
I rested my back against the rough bark of the nearest tree and stared into the darkness.
I didn't try to think or not to think, too much work either way.

Quiet, meaningless wonderings floated through my mind purposelessly; not quite there and not quite nonexistent.
Phantom feelings traced my scales with cold fingers. Guilt, grief, pain. Old feelings, but not faded in any way despite the twelve years that separated me from the tragic events.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso, not as though it would guard against my thoughts which bothered me much more than the clinging cold.
I stood that way for quite sometime, watching the lifeless shadows as the wind gave them steps to an eerie dance, and an unseen player began to whistle through the dead branches, resulting in a mournful wail.

Not the most cheerful place to be in the dead of night, by yourself.

But I wasn't in the best of moods either.
Every clacking stick became a voice of condemnation in my mind, every breath of wind a scalding accusation, the shadows that played on the ground became an executioner coming for my blood.

With a shudder, I wrenched myself into reality, pushing away the dark fantasies that threatened on the edge of sight.

"Farrarim?" the voice wasn't much louder than the heaviest beat of a moth's wings but it seemed to scatter the shadows that clung to the tree around me.
"Farrarim? I know you're here," called again the unmistakable voice of my brother.

"I'm here," I called softly,

Raymond materialized out of the deceptive light a few paces away from me, still searching with his eyes for me "Where?"
I stepped away from the concealment of the tree and into my brother's view "I'm here," I repeated.

He stepped to my side, a claw lifted to grasp my shoulder, but I shrugged him off.
He sighed "What are you doing out here?"

"Just getting a breath of air," I tried to keep the hesitation from my voice, but lying to my brother had always been a burden to me.

He sighed again "Are you alright Rim?"

"I'm....ok," I lied again, trying to hide myself beneath the solid composure that had shielded me for the last twelve years.

Raymond's mouth and brown curved down in a frown while his eyes melted in a tired sadness "Rim, it has been twelve years, but I am still your brother and I know you still."

I allowed my head to droop forwards so my eyes couldn't meet with his, it relived some of the pressure building in my chest "I couldn't sleep."

"So you came all the way out here?" he asked, a slightly incredulous note tempering his voice."

I shrugged "Pretty much... What are you doing out here?" I added with as much curiosity I could muster under the circumstances.

"Old habit. Making sure you don't get into trouble."

I let out a soft laugh; old habit indeed! It seemed like it had been the passing of an age since I'd last seen Raymond... but it was good to know he still cared. I lifted my head again, and, still not meeting his eyes, said "You couldn't have known I had left unless you where awake."

I glanced sideways without turning my head; I was close enough to see the rueful smile that played across his face "Guilty... But we should probably go back before anything happens."

The stillness of the air was fresh from the recent wind, the quietude of the nightsounds, the entire night seemed to defy my brother's words that anything foul could lurk here. Quite a change from my perspective of only a few minutes ago.
But Raymond was right we needed to go back to the camp.
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45

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Tue Jun 09, 2015 1:29 am

“It was you who was standing there.”

Words: 769
Kane, Snowfire, The Minstrel

The young centaur trotted closer to the weathered ring of rocks and reached out a lightly tanned hand to touch the smooth grey bark of the ancient tree that leaned precariously over the old stones.

A soft snorted sounded behind him before his fingers had actually brushed against the tree "I wouldn't do that if I where you."

The centaur twisted his human half back to glare at the snow white Pegasus "I'm just going to touch the tree Snowfire. Unlike you and the Minstrel, I don't believe in earth eaters."

The Pegasus shook his mane angrily and spread his wings in a gesture that revealed the cardanale red feathers that his name was hence derived "Kane, whether the earth eaters exist or not, it would be foolish to tamper with the tree."

Kane rolled his eyes in derision "Why? It's not going to do anything."

Snowfire blew out a sigh of frustration through his nose "It still isn't a good idea to even be out here."

The young centaur shrugged and stretched out his arm again. Snowfire's ice colored eyes widened. Their breaths came in short unanimous gasps.

The centaur boy's fingers lightly touched the withered tree with trembling uncertainty. For one ageless moment the pair waited, expecting lighting to strike down from the blue heavens, perhaps the earth to split beneath their very hooves, or the ocean to rise to swallow them for their crimes.

Three minutes, nothing happened. Kane began to laugh "Nothing! I told you so Snow!"

The winged horse shook his cascading mane irritably "Have you proved your point now?"

Before Kane could reply, the sharp sound of hooves striking against the hard stone at a rapid gait attested their hearing. Horse and half-horse whirled, expecting a messenger of doom to sweep over the hill with a host of shadows to announce their consequence of tampering with the tree.

Instead, a familiar blue figure with a curving, twisted horn galloped over the rise. Foam flew from his blueberry flanks as he heaved to a stop. His dark eyes wide with horror as he took in the scene that confronting him.

"Minstrel!" Snowfire gasped "We- I mean I. It was-"
But before the Pegasus could compose words to explain, the trio felt the earth shudder beneath them.

Kane stumbled back as the tree went through a series of tortured convulsion that cracked and snapped its dry branches and twisted its withered trunk.
With a sound that sickeningly resembled a human scream the tree's roots rose to where the branches had been as the bulk of the tree smashed through the remaining stones, obliterating the ring.

Another tremor shook the earth, splintering the stone beneath their hooves, causing the shock that had cemented them to the ground to loosen its grip.
Then they where flying away from the terrible scene: Kane and the Minstrel as fast as their fear pumped hearts could bear, Snowfire literally flying, his red and white wings flashing in alternating colors high above his companions.

The air was still beneath his fluttering wings and the initial shock quickly wore off him, unlike his companions who where racing away frantically from the sinking ground.
An insane urge filled his hollow bones to whirl round and fly back to the broken ring and fallen tree.
Without even giving it a thought, he did so, the crisp breeze aiding his mad gesture.

Soon he had returned to the sight, his wings nearly failing him with the fear that soaked his wings. There was no longer a hill or a ring or tree. Just a black gaping hole.
But fear wasn't so great to keep him from dipping lower in the air to see the ragged edges of the gaping pit close up. A move he regretted quickly and for a long time afterwards.

His hooves grazed the tip of a jagged stone that jutted upwards into the air a few feet.

The result was instantaneous.

The stone split open and a root-like tendril curled with great speed and undeniable strength around the Pegasus's leg.

Snowfire let out a panicked whinny of fear as he felt himself being pulled downwards despite his desperately thrashing wings.
The crack in the stone gaped open, like a monster ready to devour him, the tendril pulled him in irresistibly.
His body was nearly completely swallowed by the crack, as an act of last hope, Snowfire hooked his leg over a small rock.

For a moment he thought it would hold, but the tendril would its way further up his body, then yanked downwards.
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46

Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Thu Jun 11, 2015 4:57 am

“I don’t know who you are.”
Words: 863
Kobren Freeta

when you've been searching fruitlessly for someone for well nigh twenty years, you begin to doubt yourself around the eighth or ninth year, loose hope in the fifteenth, and fall into complete despair on the nineteenth.
Despite this, Kobren still was looking.
He didn't know why, maybe it was because there was no real home for him to return to, or anyway for him to return at all.

Or maybe it was because he was still somehow in love with her.

Someone brushed rudely against him, in too much of a hurry to care about politeness. He felt the slippery traction under his paw give way as he flew backwards into the mud.
He groaned as he checked himself over for injuries; nothing hurt very much.
Except for his heart, but the only way the fall had affected him, was to bruise the broken.
Still, standing didn't sound like the easiest course of action. Maybe he'd just lie there until a cart ran over him or something else that was big, heavy, and didn't watch where it was going.

"Are you going to get up?"

He slowly opened his eyes and stared upwards, his vision fuzzy and uncertain, "Probably not."

The speaker snorted "Get up. Save me the trouble of stitching you together after you get run over by something."

He wished this annoying female would go away.
But she didn't.
Instead she dragged him to his hind paws with an annoying amount of strength.

He groaned as the blood rushed to his head, temporarily blinding him and causing him to sway on his paws. He felt himself being to slip again in the treacherous mud. But then something firm grabbed his should tightly and pulled him onto a dryer surface that allowed him to regain his sense of balance and his sight.

He quickly fixed his eyes on the ground, he had found it helped with his anger; what it didn't help with was creating an honest first impression, but soothing his temper usually kept him or the other person alive long enough to convince them of his character.
Or, at least, whatever it was he had created to satisfy the curiosity of society.

"Where you really going to lie there ?"

"Yes. I was actually," he gritted through his teeth "Until you yanked my arm out of my shoulder."

"As painful as that may be for you, it would be even more inconvenient for the performers."

"Performers?" his gaze was still fixed on the ground, but his anger had begun to ebb, replaced by curiosity.

"Yes, performers. For the Festival of Stars? That is the reason you're here isn't it?" the voice held a strand of its own curiosity.

"Oh, of course. It must be because of that fall I took. Its messing with my head," He lied blandly, trusting to the fact that most Animal Folk would either not care one whit, or be polite enough to leave him.
But, apparently, this Folk wasn't like most others.

In fact, she replied in the same bland manner he had lied to her, only, she was speaking in an oddly truthful way "You're lying."

Startled by her blunt reply Kobren tore his gaze from the ground and looked straight into the face he had been searching for twenty years. Oh, she had changed in a hundred ways. But her eyes: one poison green the other sky blue, and her white fur dirtied by grey flecks; where unmistakable.
"Geldeth!" her tribal name soared from his mouth unbidden.

She stepped back at his exclamation, her multicolored eyes flashing in confusion "Pardon?"

He locked eyes with her, as he forced himself to realized that she remembered nothing of him and that it had been twenty years since the fox he had known caught the plague.
"I'm sorry," he apologized hastily "You look remarkably like someone I... used to know."

"Oh," she hesitated, whether from lack of words, or from surprise, or some other reason, he didn't know.

He took advantage of her pause to study her more closely. She was thinner, but was definitely stronger, as she had proved by dragging him out of the road; she still had her daggers and belt, no surprise since when she'd disappeared, they had too. Her face was different, it didn't hold the insane death-lust that had been a permanent piece or so he had thought. But the face was still the same, it was strange how much and how little had changed about her.
There was an addition to her attire, she had a small satchel slung around one should so that it crossed her chest; he couldn't help but wonder what was in it.

"Well," she squirmed visibly under his scrutiny "I-I sh-should-" she stopped as he took another step closer.

His gaze locked with hers, locking her senses up and setting his on fire. Then he saw the expression in her eyes: fear, uncertainty.
He shook himself. This wasn't fair to her.
"Well," he echoed her sentiment "I should be going."

Even though he had turned and walked away from her, he could still see her perfectly in his mind.
Last edited by TheSongOfTheStars on Mon Jun 15, 2015 1:44 am, edited 9 times in total.
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Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Thu Jun 11, 2015 12:22 pm

“Who’s laughing now?”
Words: 760
Klijan, Trisk, WaterBeast

Trisk soared under Klijan, tipping his wings in a way that he thought was most stylish, then straightened them as the playful curl of air sent him rocketing above his brother.

"Hey!" Klijan hooted as his brother disappeared above him "No fair!"

Trisk laughed and folded his wings, a wonderful sense of weightlessness envolped him as he defied the updraft and let the strangeness of gravity do its work.

So the two young owls played in the greyness of twilight, not too far out over the open ocean, but not too close to watchful parents' eyes that track the two figures carefully from the rising stone spire that spiked from the grey waves like a stalagmite leftover from some ancient cavern that had long disintegrated an left a rising peak in the center of the sea.

Once, on a particularly showy dive, Klijan went father out than the young owl was allowed to and came within inches of the wetly muttering waves.

Trisk felt a jolt of alarm jar his hollow bones "Klijan! Pull up! Get away from the water!"

Klijan laughed and shook his head "Why? You're not afraid of a little ocean are you?"

"Please! You could get hurt!"

"How? Is a big fishy going to come and bit my wings off?"

Trisk angled himself a little closer to his brother, just enough to see the dark waters beneath him "Y-You never know Klijan!"

Klijan rolled his yellow sun eyes "You've been listening to too many stories little brother, those tales with addle your brain if you're not careful."

Trisk shrugged his black wings "Maybe. But that's not an excuse for you to be so close to the water. We're both too young to be out here by ourselves."

Klijan groaned and purposely dangled his talons in the foam "Come on you sound like an old nestmaid. Live a little! Have fun!"

"Disobeying Father and Mother is fun?" Trisk asked coldly. "No thanks. And if you don't get away from down there and come closer to the Sprie, I am going to tell."

Klijan sighed and pumped his wings upwards "Tattle-tale. What's the fun of sticking by a big old rock for you're whole life?"

Trisk didn't answer, his turquoise blue eyes had fixed on the water directly beneath his brother.

"Now what?" Klijan muttered as he twisted his head around on his shoulders in the way that all owls could "What is that?!?"

The patch of water that only seconds ago Klijan had been hovering over, had turned in a caldron of frothing water and huge bubbles, even as the avian siblings watched in dumb fascination, the patch grew wider and wider until it was churning a huge part of the waters beneath Klijan and Trisk.

"Get back to the Sprie!" Trisk screeched, whirling himself and flying as fast as his juvenile wings could pump.

Klijan ignored him, curiosity overwhelming his sense of danger. He even purposely drifted closer to the riled waves, trying to see their cause.
But the foam and the bubbles where too thick for him to see anything.
He dropped closer.
But still nothing.
He hovered within an inch of the roiling ocean, his sharp eyes beginning to detect something huge beneath the waters.

The young owl slowly began to feel a cold hard sense of dread in his stomach as he realized he was in the very wrong place at the worst time.

The waters began to slide apart from each other, like a hole was being torn in the world beneath as something evil slithered up from the underworld.

The dark head was huge.
The nostril that rose past Klijan was three times bigger than him.
And the huge water sleek body that climbed out of the water seemed to have no end.

Then as Klijan dared to look up, he was frozen by a look from the pair of tiny hate-filled eyes. He didn't know what this beast was, but he knew it was going to kill him.

Somehow, that thought unlocked the muscles in his wings and he found himself flying faster than he ever had without the help of a driving wind.
He flew towards the Sprie, trying to shout for help, but the only sound that came from his beak was a long continuing scream so loud and terrified that he thought that the beast behind him was roaring.
He was nearly to the stone peak. He thought he'd be safe.

"Klijan!" His Father rushed past him "Get out of here! Get everyone out!"
Last edited by TheSongOfTheStars on Tue Jun 16, 2015 1:52 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Sun Jun 14, 2015 1:32 am

“Don’t let go, okay?”
Words:750
Ruth Whirl-Whip

The sun beat down on her back like a hammer, but the half-elf barely felt it. She was straining her eyes downwards, trying to see what her wyvern teammate saw.
It was impossible though, the dragon's eyes where many times larger and stronger than hers, Whirl-whip could see for over five miles in any direction.
But Ruth still knew what they where looking for, a gralth: an exceedingly ugly beast, but huge enough to feed an army.
Which was what they where doing.

Ruth felt Whirl-whip tense beneath her, no words needed, the gralth was in the dragon's sights.

The wyvern pumped her wings like a farmer pumping water for his cattle.
Within a few seconds they where even higher above the ground, where the air was fresh, cold, and stabbed through Ruth's thin apparel

Now came the best part.
Ruth could feel the shift of weight as Whirl-whip's long raptor talons swung forwards, as though the dragon was made of pure metal and the earth was a huge magnet pulling her in.
The wyvern hung motionless in the air another second, then with the perfection of an action performed since the first days of life, the dragon collapsed her wings along her back and dropped.

There was always that odd sensation that twisted her stomach whenever the wyvern dove, but Ruth had long come to actually enjoy the feeling as just another amazing new thing that she experienced since meeting Whirl-whip.
It was like falling from the tallest tree in the forest without any fear of hitting the ground or jumping from a seacliff and never feeling the bone-breaking concussions from the surface of the water.
Along with that sensation was the wind sting in her eyes that caused her to squint and brought tears that obscured her vision, forcing her to loosen the grip of one of her hands to dash from her cheeks.
But she could've cared less.

It had but been the space of a trio of heart beats and they where much closer to that solid mass called earth; Ruth could just make out a cluster of gargantuan forms grazing slowly on the grass, unconcerned that a huge predator was about to strike down one of their members from his place in their vratch.

Ruth was intimately accustomed to her dragon's speeds, how long it would take to get from here to there at a certain speed. Right now, they had about ten seconds before they struck the vratch.
Ruth took five of those ten seconds to scan the surrounding skies. There was nothing more fierce or alert than a hunting wyvern, but even the magnificent beast couldn't pull of a kill dive in time to save herself from a side attack or a surprise directly from below.

But fortunately the skies where empty exept for a few wispy clouds high up and far off. Too small to hide a griffon in and too far away to matter.

Ruth returned her attention to the fast approaching ground, the sharp eyed half-elf could easily make out the curves and wrinkles of the lumpy gralths.
She could also sense, by Whirl-whip's angling, which of the ugly animals the wyvern was attacking.
Tense, she prepared herself for the bone jarring, teeth crunching impact that would take place within the immediate seconds.

Time refracted, its speed changed, neither going so fast that Ruth couldn't understand what was happening, or that it was so slow that she could figure out completely what had happened.
The sequence of events changed: First she saw the gralth lying dead by Whirl-whips bloody talons. Time rewound and she felt the impact as the diving wyvern stopped her fall with the body of her prey. Then she could here the fearful cries of the other Gralth as their huge bodies moved at a ponderous pace away from them.

All in all. It was confusing, but not the first time.

Finally the shock wore off from Ruth's limbs and mind, slowly time jointed itself back together, presenting something of a half-finished jig-saw puzzle. But it didn't bother Ruth overly-much.

She sat up, wondering how'd she gotten on the ground.

Looking around, she saw her dragon teammate about a hundred paces off, ensuring that the gralth was dead.
With a rush of heat, she realized that she had fallen off when Whirl-whip had struck. Something that had only happened once, the first time she'd ever hunted with Whirl-whip. But never again since then.
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Postby TheSongOfTheStars » Sat Jun 20, 2015 1:33 am

“Hah! - oh, wait, you’re serious?”
Raymond, The Count
Words: 766

"Magnificent!" the Count crowed as he hefted the repaired blade "Its as though nothing happened to it at all."
It was true. There was no crack, or seam to betray the repair work, only the slightest change of shades in the metal.

Raymond couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride; despite the many years that had passed since the last time he had worked with metal, but he had managed to resurrect his skill wonderfully.
Besides that, the sword had been easy to mend, the blade had snapped off past the middle, and all he had to do was reattach them.

The Count gingerly returned the sword back to its place in the scabbard and faced Raymond "About payment."

Raymond shook his head but before he could protest, the Count cut him off.

"I refuse to let your efforts to go unrewarded. Now name what you would have and I shall give it!"

Raymond allowed himself a small smile, but quickly extinguished it, he hadn't convinced the Count yet "Sir, you are certain you will not accept my work as a gift?"

The Count shook his head vigorously "I will not!"

"Well," Raymond hesitated "There is, perhaps, one thing I could ask of you."

"Name it and if I can, it is yours."

"I would have Nickia train in sword fighting."

For a second, the Count's only response was to stare at Raymond with bulging eyes, then he doubled over with loud guffaws.
He whooped with laughter for nearly five minutes before he could contain himself long enough to snicker out a reply to Raymond "Pardon me, I thought I heard you just ask for Nickia to be trained in- in- in sword fighting!"

"I did," Raymond replied coldly.

The Count stared at Raymond with shock "But Nickia is-is a girl!"

Raymond nodded "That she is."

"But girls are not trained to fight!" The Count yelped as if stung "Its simply preposterous!!"

"If you do not like my choice, then I shall go without reward," Raymond informed him flatly.

"But, you see, Raymond," the Count adopted a patronizing tone "Females are much weaker and-"

"I know why females are not trained in the sword," Raymond cut him off. "Believe me, I have my own reason for Nickia to be trained. But if it is... beyond your ability to give me what I have asked for, I understand."

"No it is not that-" The Count paused, his face flushed as he tried to detangled himself from his awkward position.

Raymond quickly snatched at the Count's faltering "So, you could have Nickia be taught, you just simply refuse me."

"Well... you see..." The Count trailed off, the color of his skin turning to the shade of an overly ripe tomato. So bright was his countenance and so dark was the frown that contrasted against the cherry redness that Raymond wondered if he had pushed the man too far.
People everywhere clung desperately to traditions; maybe that was why neither dragons or elves or people had won this terrible war, neither side could think of something new to fling at their enemy. But tradition also gave life some kind of steady feel, even if those same traditions where odd or bizarre, such as soaking shoes in the blood of a freshly slain cow.

"You drive a hard argument," The Count sighed at last "and hold a man hard to foolishly spoken words. As you subtly pointed out, it is not outside of my abilities to have the girl train in sword fighting. But why? Surely you are not going to send her to battle dragons!"

"Of course not. But I do have my reason for her to be trained, however obscure they may be," Raymond paused. "So do we have a deal?"

The Count nodded "Aye. Have her here directly after breaking her morning fast. And Raymond, I hope you know what your doing can, and most likely will, set the girl even farther apart for respectable society than she already is. The plague and such."

"I've taken that into careful consideration. She will be here in the morning." Raymond turned to leave, but the Count stopped him with one last inquiry.

"Is this her wish or yours?"

"I told you I have my reasons." Raymond replied quietly, and quickly left before the Count changed his mind, or asked more questions.
He honestly required the long walk before he returned home. For, truth be told, he had no idea how he was going to convince Nickia to agree to go along with this.
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