@PuffyRuffy I love this so much, I sent you a message to express my gratitude! :) Thank you for taking your time and talent to write this, I could not be happier with the results!
Creative Corner
Share your own art and stories, or ask for critique.
TOPIC | Free Writing for your Dragons~
@PuffyRuffy I love this so much, I sent you a message to express my gratitude! :) Thank you for taking your time and talent to write this, I could not be happier with the results!
@PuffyRuffy
i've stumbled on this thread way too late
but your writings are really good you should consider opening a shop
i've stumbled on this thread way too late
but your writings are really good you should consider opening a shop
@PuffyRuffy
i've stumbled on this thread way too late
but your writings are really good you should consider opening a shop
i've stumbled on this thread way too late
but your writings are really good you should consider opening a shop
@PuffyRuffy Since it's not yet 23:59 FR time, hopefully you'd still be willing to write something for Demon ^^
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=24980035]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/249801/24980035_350.png[/img]
[/url]
[b]Basic personality of this dragon [/b]: He has some lore in his profile, but he's basically a warrior who is feared by others but is actually peaceful. Very misunderstood, and tends to keep to himself, though feels lonely at times.
[b]What sorta writing ya want[/b]: A backstory would be nice~ Preferably something dark haha.
[b]Other characters you want in the writing[/b]: N/A
[b]Scenario[/b]: Up to you!
Thank you!~
@PuffyRuffy Since it's not yet 23:59 FR time, hopefully you'd still be willing to write something for Demon ^^
Basic personality of this dragon : He has some lore in his profile, but he's basically a warrior who is feared by others but is actually peaceful. Very misunderstood, and tends to keep to himself, though feels lonely at times.
What sorta writing ya want: A backstory would be nice~ Preferably something dark haha.
Other characters you want in the writing: N/A
Scenario: Up to you!
Thank you!~
Basic personality of this dragon : He has some lore in his profile, but he's basically a warrior who is feared by others but is actually peaceful. Very misunderstood, and tends to keep to himself, though feels lonely at times.
What sorta writing ya want: A backstory would be nice~ Preferably something dark haha.
Other characters you want in the writing: N/A
Scenario: Up to you!
Thank you!~
@Johan
Thank you for the compliment~
You can still request a story until 23:59 today! Just note that you will probably be the final piece I make for this thread (since I'm completing from top to bottom). Also, I am considering making a little shop once I have some time to rest my brain~
Thank you for the compliment~
You can still request a story until 23:59 today! Just note that you will probably be the final piece I make for this thread (since I'm completing from top to bottom). Also, I am considering making a little shop once I have some time to rest my brain~
@Johan
Thank you for the compliment~
You can still request a story until 23:59 today! Just note that you will probably be the final piece I make for this thread (since I'm completing from top to bottom). Also, I am considering making a little shop once I have some time to rest my brain~
Thank you for the compliment~
You can still request a story until 23:59 today! Just note that you will probably be the final piece I make for this thread (since I'm completing from top to bottom). Also, I am considering making a little shop once I have some time to rest my brain~
For @DarkCoatl
Birds chirped, sang, tweeted, and hopped from branch to branch, twig to twig. Vixen's eyes watched as a robin flit through the air and disappear into the foliage. Her wings warmed under the morning sun, the green silks that hung off of them shivering in their shadow. The smell of honeydew floated around the mystical forest like butterflies fluttering on a rose bush. Water droplets clung to her claws as they slowly passed through the cool grass, giving her otherwise dull hands a soft sheen. Towering trees hid the wildlife and plants from the Skydancer, squirrels and rabbits popping up for only a second before disappearing yet again. Vixen smiled whenever she saw a bird curiously peeping at her from the protection of the trees. It was adorable to her. The dove that rested upon her back hid itself under Vixen's verdant shawl.
"Not here either... Vixen? We need to carry on, the flower isn't here," an Imperial told Vixen, daydreaming. The long dragon was crouching beside a patch of orange and crimson flowers, hands shifting them to the side while carefully not snapping their delicate stems. A cricket buzzed. It was an ugly sound among the sweetly pitched birds, blasting like a trumpet. It was, fortunately, interrupted when Esmeralda's tail tuft brushed its podium. Her hunter's cap gave her an adventurous look. Vixen wondered how similar her friend was to the popular Robin Hood as Esmeralda was crawling across the floor, intensely inspecting the footprints Vixen didn't know of.
"These're the tracks of a badger. Badgers always go to weird, hidden spots. Perhaps we'll find the Fire Blossom there, so... we better follow the trail," Esmeralda began slithering across the ground as her nose was almost pressed against the badger's path. Vixen simply nodded at the Imperial and followed her. Carefully treading over the saplings that grew near the torn up earth, she kept a watchful eye out for any plants that were either red, orange, or brown. Her mystical garden needed a touch of colour in just one spot of it. Vixen needed the Fire Blossom. She would only return to her house once the flower was in her grasp, even if it meant searching all day.
The forest had become denser when Esmeralda froze in front of a thicket, head still down like a hound. Vixen, confused, hopped over a dandelion before she froze too. Laying in front of them was a caterpillar. A massive one. It was almost as big as Esmeralda's forearm. A chewed up leaf was clamped in its jaws, quickly being worked away into nothingness. The caterpillar was a burning yellow with chestnut spots dotting its sides, making it stand out in the emerald grass. Both Vixen and Esmeralda knew that it was impossible for the bug to survive this long in this current environment, so there had to be a place nearby. Their eyes met and Esmeralda's face broke into a grin.
"I can feel the heat coming from this way," Esmeralda was excited. Walking back a couple metres, she ran towards the spiky bushes before gracefully clearing it, wings acting like little gliders. A laughter could be heard from the other side and the sound of rustling. Vixen, not wanting to be left behind, pattered from left to right. She didn't want to jump over the bush, she couldn't, but she didn't know how else she could get over it. There wasn't enough space around her for her to be able to fly upwards. Her wings would have just bumped into the tree trunks.
"Vixen! Come on! I don't want to be the only one seeing this!" Esmeralda sounded ecstatic. Gathering courage within herself, the shy Skydancer began walking backwards, mindful of where she was stepping. The monstrous caterpillar crawled away. Gulping in a deep breath of fresh air, Vixen copied Esmeralda. Traces of mud flicked up into the air when her feet left the floor. Tensing her muscles, Vixen leaped up, up, and over. The thorns tickled her feet as she went over. Twigs grazed her face, she closed her eyes, and her paws scrabbled at the threatening air in front. Soft ground met her.
Fearfully, Vixen opened her eyes. At first the only colour she could see was orange: a burning orange. As she looked around the only thing she felt was astonishment. How had they not found this place before? Gnarled maple trees grew in a circle, forming a formidable wall against intruders that had bad intentions. There was an almost purposefully made path towards the centre of it all; towards a sea of Fire Blossoms. Despite being the same colour as the grass, trees, and even animals around them, they stood out like a cuckoo in a bird's nest. Each petal had a unique pattern of golden swirls entangling the orange. Vixen pinched her skin to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
A rough hand grabbed Vixen's and dragged her towards the dreamy scene, snapping her out of her hypnotised state. Esmeralda giggled as Vixen squeaked. The grown Imperial acted like a schoolgirl as she skipped across the carpet of grass. Vixen stumbled across the tall grass that had been undisturbed by dragons for decades. Esmeralda forgot about her friend when she finally stepped in front of all the flowers, clearly about to burst with happiness. Vixen knelt, the smell of strong nectar refreshing her. Miniature versions of the caterpillar from before wriggled over the flowers, not eating them, but eating the weeds that threatened the existence of them.
"Vixen, Vixen! Look up! Vixen!" Vixen had to tear her eyes from the gorgeous scene in front of her to see what Esmeralda could be blabbering about. It had better be worth her time if Esmeralda wanted her to look up so badly. Vixen looked up.
She didn't regret it.
Pazam! Sorry that you waited for so long to get your piece, I've been pretty busy this week. I was doing this in my spare time whenever I could (which wasn't often). I hope you like this piece, I loved describing the forest around Vixen and Esmeralda~
Birds chirped, sang, tweeted, and hopped from branch to branch, twig to twig. Vixen's eyes watched as a robin flit through the air and disappear into the foliage. Her wings warmed under the morning sun, the green silks that hung off of them shivering in their shadow. The smell of honeydew floated around the mystical forest like butterflies fluttering on a rose bush. Water droplets clung to her claws as they slowly passed through the cool grass, giving her otherwise dull hands a soft sheen. Towering trees hid the wildlife and plants from the Skydancer, squirrels and rabbits popping up for only a second before disappearing yet again. Vixen smiled whenever she saw a bird curiously peeping at her from the protection of the trees. It was adorable to her. The dove that rested upon her back hid itself under Vixen's verdant shawl.
"Not here either... Vixen? We need to carry on, the flower isn't here," an Imperial told Vixen, daydreaming. The long dragon was crouching beside a patch of orange and crimson flowers, hands shifting them to the side while carefully not snapping their delicate stems. A cricket buzzed. It was an ugly sound among the sweetly pitched birds, blasting like a trumpet. It was, fortunately, interrupted when Esmeralda's tail tuft brushed its podium. Her hunter's cap gave her an adventurous look. Vixen wondered how similar her friend was to the popular Robin Hood as Esmeralda was crawling across the floor, intensely inspecting the footprints Vixen didn't know of.
"These're the tracks of a badger. Badgers always go to weird, hidden spots. Perhaps we'll find the Fire Blossom there, so... we better follow the trail," Esmeralda began slithering across the ground as her nose was almost pressed against the badger's path. Vixen simply nodded at the Imperial and followed her. Carefully treading over the saplings that grew near the torn up earth, she kept a watchful eye out for any plants that were either red, orange, or brown. Her mystical garden needed a touch of colour in just one spot of it. Vixen needed the Fire Blossom. She would only return to her house once the flower was in her grasp, even if it meant searching all day.
The forest had become denser when Esmeralda froze in front of a thicket, head still down like a hound. Vixen, confused, hopped over a dandelion before she froze too. Laying in front of them was a caterpillar. A massive one. It was almost as big as Esmeralda's forearm. A chewed up leaf was clamped in its jaws, quickly being worked away into nothingness. The caterpillar was a burning yellow with chestnut spots dotting its sides, making it stand out in the emerald grass. Both Vixen and Esmeralda knew that it was impossible for the bug to survive this long in this current environment, so there had to be a place nearby. Their eyes met and Esmeralda's face broke into a grin.
"I can feel the heat coming from this way," Esmeralda was excited. Walking back a couple metres, she ran towards the spiky bushes before gracefully clearing it, wings acting like little gliders. A laughter could be heard from the other side and the sound of rustling. Vixen, not wanting to be left behind, pattered from left to right. She didn't want to jump over the bush, she couldn't, but she didn't know how else she could get over it. There wasn't enough space around her for her to be able to fly upwards. Her wings would have just bumped into the tree trunks.
"Vixen! Come on! I don't want to be the only one seeing this!" Esmeralda sounded ecstatic. Gathering courage within herself, the shy Skydancer began walking backwards, mindful of where she was stepping. The monstrous caterpillar crawled away. Gulping in a deep breath of fresh air, Vixen copied Esmeralda. Traces of mud flicked up into the air when her feet left the floor. Tensing her muscles, Vixen leaped up, up, and over. The thorns tickled her feet as she went over. Twigs grazed her face, she closed her eyes, and her paws scrabbled at the threatening air in front. Soft ground met her.
Fearfully, Vixen opened her eyes. At first the only colour she could see was orange: a burning orange. As she looked around the only thing she felt was astonishment. How had they not found this place before? Gnarled maple trees grew in a circle, forming a formidable wall against intruders that had bad intentions. There was an almost purposefully made path towards the centre of it all; towards a sea of Fire Blossoms. Despite being the same colour as the grass, trees, and even animals around them, they stood out like a cuckoo in a bird's nest. Each petal had a unique pattern of golden swirls entangling the orange. Vixen pinched her skin to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
A rough hand grabbed Vixen's and dragged her towards the dreamy scene, snapping her out of her hypnotised state. Esmeralda giggled as Vixen squeaked. The grown Imperial acted like a schoolgirl as she skipped across the carpet of grass. Vixen stumbled across the tall grass that had been undisturbed by dragons for decades. Esmeralda forgot about her friend when she finally stepped in front of all the flowers, clearly about to burst with happiness. Vixen knelt, the smell of strong nectar refreshing her. Miniature versions of the caterpillar from before wriggled over the flowers, not eating them, but eating the weeds that threatened the existence of them.
"Vixen, Vixen! Look up! Vixen!" Vixen had to tear her eyes from the gorgeous scene in front of her to see what Esmeralda could be blabbering about. It had better be worth her time if Esmeralda wanted her to look up so badly. Vixen looked up.
She didn't regret it.
Pazam! Sorry that you waited for so long to get your piece, I've been pretty busy this week. I was doing this in my spare time whenever I could (which wasn't often). I hope you like this piece, I loved describing the forest around Vixen and Esmeralda~
For @DarkCoatl
Birds chirped, sang, tweeted, and hopped from branch to branch, twig to twig. Vixen's eyes watched as a robin flit through the air and disappear into the foliage. Her wings warmed under the morning sun, the green silks that hung off of them shivering in their shadow. The smell of honeydew floated around the mystical forest like butterflies fluttering on a rose bush. Water droplets clung to her claws as they slowly passed through the cool grass, giving her otherwise dull hands a soft sheen. Towering trees hid the wildlife and plants from the Skydancer, squirrels and rabbits popping up for only a second before disappearing yet again. Vixen smiled whenever she saw a bird curiously peeping at her from the protection of the trees. It was adorable to her. The dove that rested upon her back hid itself under Vixen's verdant shawl.
"Not here either... Vixen? We need to carry on, the flower isn't here," an Imperial told Vixen, daydreaming. The long dragon was crouching beside a patch of orange and crimson flowers, hands shifting them to the side while carefully not snapping their delicate stems. A cricket buzzed. It was an ugly sound among the sweetly pitched birds, blasting like a trumpet. It was, fortunately, interrupted when Esmeralda's tail tuft brushed its podium. Her hunter's cap gave her an adventurous look. Vixen wondered how similar her friend was to the popular Robin Hood as Esmeralda was crawling across the floor, intensely inspecting the footprints Vixen didn't know of.
"These're the tracks of a badger. Badgers always go to weird, hidden spots. Perhaps we'll find the Fire Blossom there, so... we better follow the trail," Esmeralda began slithering across the ground as her nose was almost pressed against the badger's path. Vixen simply nodded at the Imperial and followed her. Carefully treading over the saplings that grew near the torn up earth, she kept a watchful eye out for any plants that were either red, orange, or brown. Her mystical garden needed a touch of colour in just one spot of it. Vixen needed the Fire Blossom. She would only return to her house once the flower was in her grasp, even if it meant searching all day.
The forest had become denser when Esmeralda froze in front of a thicket, head still down like a hound. Vixen, confused, hopped over a dandelion before she froze too. Laying in front of them was a caterpillar. A massive one. It was almost as big as Esmeralda's forearm. A chewed up leaf was clamped in its jaws, quickly being worked away into nothingness. The caterpillar was a burning yellow with chestnut spots dotting its sides, making it stand out in the emerald grass. Both Vixen and Esmeralda knew that it was impossible for the bug to survive this long in this current environment, so there had to be a place nearby. Their eyes met and Esmeralda's face broke into a grin.
"I can feel the heat coming from this way," Esmeralda was excited. Walking back a couple metres, she ran towards the spiky bushes before gracefully clearing it, wings acting like little gliders. A laughter could be heard from the other side and the sound of rustling. Vixen, not wanting to be left behind, pattered from left to right. She didn't want to jump over the bush, she couldn't, but she didn't know how else she could get over it. There wasn't enough space around her for her to be able to fly upwards. Her wings would have just bumped into the tree trunks.
"Vixen! Come on! I don't want to be the only one seeing this!" Esmeralda sounded ecstatic. Gathering courage within herself, the shy Skydancer began walking backwards, mindful of where she was stepping. The monstrous caterpillar crawled away. Gulping in a deep breath of fresh air, Vixen copied Esmeralda. Traces of mud flicked up into the air when her feet left the floor. Tensing her muscles, Vixen leaped up, up, and over. The thorns tickled her feet as she went over. Twigs grazed her face, she closed her eyes, and her paws scrabbled at the threatening air in front. Soft ground met her.
Fearfully, Vixen opened her eyes. At first the only colour she could see was orange: a burning orange. As she looked around the only thing she felt was astonishment. How had they not found this place before? Gnarled maple trees grew in a circle, forming a formidable wall against intruders that had bad intentions. There was an almost purposefully made path towards the centre of it all; towards a sea of Fire Blossoms. Despite being the same colour as the grass, trees, and even animals around them, they stood out like a cuckoo in a bird's nest. Each petal had a unique pattern of golden swirls entangling the orange. Vixen pinched her skin to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
A rough hand grabbed Vixen's and dragged her towards the dreamy scene, snapping her out of her hypnotised state. Esmeralda giggled as Vixen squeaked. The grown Imperial acted like a schoolgirl as she skipped across the carpet of grass. Vixen stumbled across the tall grass that had been undisturbed by dragons for decades. Esmeralda forgot about her friend when she finally stepped in front of all the flowers, clearly about to burst with happiness. Vixen knelt, the smell of strong nectar refreshing her. Miniature versions of the caterpillar from before wriggled over the flowers, not eating them, but eating the weeds that threatened the existence of them.
"Vixen, Vixen! Look up! Vixen!" Vixen had to tear her eyes from the gorgeous scene in front of her to see what Esmeralda could be blabbering about. It had better be worth her time if Esmeralda wanted her to look up so badly. Vixen looked up.
She didn't regret it.
Pazam! Sorry that you waited for so long to get your piece, I've been pretty busy this week. I was doing this in my spare time whenever I could (which wasn't often). I hope you like this piece, I loved describing the forest around Vixen and Esmeralda~
Birds chirped, sang, tweeted, and hopped from branch to branch, twig to twig. Vixen's eyes watched as a robin flit through the air and disappear into the foliage. Her wings warmed under the morning sun, the green silks that hung off of them shivering in their shadow. The smell of honeydew floated around the mystical forest like butterflies fluttering on a rose bush. Water droplets clung to her claws as they slowly passed through the cool grass, giving her otherwise dull hands a soft sheen. Towering trees hid the wildlife and plants from the Skydancer, squirrels and rabbits popping up for only a second before disappearing yet again. Vixen smiled whenever she saw a bird curiously peeping at her from the protection of the trees. It was adorable to her. The dove that rested upon her back hid itself under Vixen's verdant shawl.
"Not here either... Vixen? We need to carry on, the flower isn't here," an Imperial told Vixen, daydreaming. The long dragon was crouching beside a patch of orange and crimson flowers, hands shifting them to the side while carefully not snapping their delicate stems. A cricket buzzed. It was an ugly sound among the sweetly pitched birds, blasting like a trumpet. It was, fortunately, interrupted when Esmeralda's tail tuft brushed its podium. Her hunter's cap gave her an adventurous look. Vixen wondered how similar her friend was to the popular Robin Hood as Esmeralda was crawling across the floor, intensely inspecting the footprints Vixen didn't know of.
"These're the tracks of a badger. Badgers always go to weird, hidden spots. Perhaps we'll find the Fire Blossom there, so... we better follow the trail," Esmeralda began slithering across the ground as her nose was almost pressed against the badger's path. Vixen simply nodded at the Imperial and followed her. Carefully treading over the saplings that grew near the torn up earth, she kept a watchful eye out for any plants that were either red, orange, or brown. Her mystical garden needed a touch of colour in just one spot of it. Vixen needed the Fire Blossom. She would only return to her house once the flower was in her grasp, even if it meant searching all day.
The forest had become denser when Esmeralda froze in front of a thicket, head still down like a hound. Vixen, confused, hopped over a dandelion before she froze too. Laying in front of them was a caterpillar. A massive one. It was almost as big as Esmeralda's forearm. A chewed up leaf was clamped in its jaws, quickly being worked away into nothingness. The caterpillar was a burning yellow with chestnut spots dotting its sides, making it stand out in the emerald grass. Both Vixen and Esmeralda knew that it was impossible for the bug to survive this long in this current environment, so there had to be a place nearby. Their eyes met and Esmeralda's face broke into a grin.
"I can feel the heat coming from this way," Esmeralda was excited. Walking back a couple metres, she ran towards the spiky bushes before gracefully clearing it, wings acting like little gliders. A laughter could be heard from the other side and the sound of rustling. Vixen, not wanting to be left behind, pattered from left to right. She didn't want to jump over the bush, she couldn't, but she didn't know how else she could get over it. There wasn't enough space around her for her to be able to fly upwards. Her wings would have just bumped into the tree trunks.
"Vixen! Come on! I don't want to be the only one seeing this!" Esmeralda sounded ecstatic. Gathering courage within herself, the shy Skydancer began walking backwards, mindful of where she was stepping. The monstrous caterpillar crawled away. Gulping in a deep breath of fresh air, Vixen copied Esmeralda. Traces of mud flicked up into the air when her feet left the floor. Tensing her muscles, Vixen leaped up, up, and over. The thorns tickled her feet as she went over. Twigs grazed her face, she closed her eyes, and her paws scrabbled at the threatening air in front. Soft ground met her.
Fearfully, Vixen opened her eyes. At first the only colour she could see was orange: a burning orange. As she looked around the only thing she felt was astonishment. How had they not found this place before? Gnarled maple trees grew in a circle, forming a formidable wall against intruders that had bad intentions. There was an almost purposefully made path towards the centre of it all; towards a sea of Fire Blossoms. Despite being the same colour as the grass, trees, and even animals around them, they stood out like a cuckoo in a bird's nest. Each petal had a unique pattern of golden swirls entangling the orange. Vixen pinched her skin to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
A rough hand grabbed Vixen's and dragged her towards the dreamy scene, snapping her out of her hypnotised state. Esmeralda giggled as Vixen squeaked. The grown Imperial acted like a schoolgirl as she skipped across the carpet of grass. Vixen stumbled across the tall grass that had been undisturbed by dragons for decades. Esmeralda forgot about her friend when she finally stepped in front of all the flowers, clearly about to burst with happiness. Vixen knelt, the smell of strong nectar refreshing her. Miniature versions of the caterpillar from before wriggled over the flowers, not eating them, but eating the weeds that threatened the existence of them.
"Vixen, Vixen! Look up! Vixen!" Vixen had to tear her eyes from the gorgeous scene in front of her to see what Esmeralda could be blabbering about. It had better be worth her time if Esmeralda wanted her to look up so badly. Vixen looked up.
She didn't regret it.
Pazam! Sorry that you waited for so long to get your piece, I've been pretty busy this week. I was doing this in my spare time whenever I could (which wasn't often). I hope you like this piece, I loved describing the forest around Vixen and Esmeralda~
For @hollowheart7211
The jagged tree base sat in the shadows of lanky pines as mushrooms giggled around its gnarled roots, covering patches of ash bark with a soft glow of blue. On those mushrooms were bulging pockets that held millions of spores which swam in a milky liquid, giving the translucent walls of the mushroom a spiraling pattern that constantly danced in loops and twists and turns. Violet pine needles were scattered across the quivering grass. Hoots and booming laughter could be heard bouncing around in the illuminated forest, giving either an uneasy feel to those new to the Shadow lands, or a gleeful grin as one remembers the tricks and pranks so many love to play on each other.
However, in the tree trunk was not a party, nor was there nothing at all. Inside of it was a cloud of rough wool, some needles that had fallen in, patches of moss, and one or two random chess pieces that had somehow gotten in there. In the centre of the mess were two eggs. They rested like rocks in the tree, sinking further and further into the soft pile of fluff as days and nights strolled by. They emitted a glow very similar to the mushrooms lining the outside, but only lighting up their own grey shells.
A slithering sound slowly approached the shimmering shells, leaving a single line in its journey across the playful forest. It crushed any plants and fungi under its body, showing no remorse while it clicked to find the path to the lonely nest. The mushrooms that celebrated the new night dimmed as the thorns, tangling the wings that dared to carry the creature, scratched and clawed at them with no sense of morality. Bandages wrapped its neck, tail and wings. A pure white hood hid its head from those who want to know more about what it looked like. Finally, it loomed over the nest.
It was Blossom. She daintily lowered her head into her tree trunk, listening carefully to the clicks she made. As Blossom was, unfortunately, blind she had to use other methods to navigate the area around her, such as echolocation and sense of smell. The silks that dangled down from her neck, tail and wings fluttered in the slight breeze that picked up. Pristine roses interlaced between her feathers, letting out a wonderfully sweet smell that attracted both bees and butterflies.
Tap. Tap. Blossom tilted her head. A faint noise came from a glowing egg. Ever so carefully, the delicate dragon nudged it, showing her motherly love for the hatchlings inside before they had even seen daylight. It rocked backwards before returning to its original position, the tapping sound from within suddenly a tiny bit louder. Blossom's ivory eyes lit up and intensely listened for the sound. The sound that she had heard many times before, but it was a sound that would never fail to make her heart beat and show her colours.
Then it happened. A crack popped up, both in Blossom's ears and on the shell, and the Imperial kindly smiled. Another crack. And then another. Then, after at least a five minute waiting and the mushrooms slowly beginning to sway to the music of the forest once more, the shell broke. A soggy blue Imperial's head stuck out, eyes closed and a baby tooth on the tip of its mouth - how it broke out. Blossom could not see her newest hatchling, but she could listen. Listen to the sudden silence of the shell. Listen to the wet sounds of the hatchling moving. Listen to the first sound it had ever made.
Then the other egg began to crack. The sound of its sibling breaking free fortified its childish strength, allowing it to begin snapping the shell into pieces without the need of weakening it first. Crack. It did not take long at all for the grey Pearlcatcher to emerge into the world that awaited for it. A tiny squeak burst out of the hatchling, celebrating the relief of breathing in the outside world.
Blossom listened to it all.
This one was interesting to write. I wanted to try tricking the reader into thinking that something bad was going to happen to the eggs, but then nope! I hope that you understand what I'm saying, haha. I made sure to make it a bit shorter than usual since you requested something short, but it ended up being a bit longer than I intended it to be. My bad.
Hope you enjoy it either way~
The jagged tree base sat in the shadows of lanky pines as mushrooms giggled around its gnarled roots, covering patches of ash bark with a soft glow of blue. On those mushrooms were bulging pockets that held millions of spores which swam in a milky liquid, giving the translucent walls of the mushroom a spiraling pattern that constantly danced in loops and twists and turns. Violet pine needles were scattered across the quivering grass. Hoots and booming laughter could be heard bouncing around in the illuminated forest, giving either an uneasy feel to those new to the Shadow lands, or a gleeful grin as one remembers the tricks and pranks so many love to play on each other.
However, in the tree trunk was not a party, nor was there nothing at all. Inside of it was a cloud of rough wool, some needles that had fallen in, patches of moss, and one or two random chess pieces that had somehow gotten in there. In the centre of the mess were two eggs. They rested like rocks in the tree, sinking further and further into the soft pile of fluff as days and nights strolled by. They emitted a glow very similar to the mushrooms lining the outside, but only lighting up their own grey shells.
A slithering sound slowly approached the shimmering shells, leaving a single line in its journey across the playful forest. It crushed any plants and fungi under its body, showing no remorse while it clicked to find the path to the lonely nest. The mushrooms that celebrated the new night dimmed as the thorns, tangling the wings that dared to carry the creature, scratched and clawed at them with no sense of morality. Bandages wrapped its neck, tail and wings. A pure white hood hid its head from those who want to know more about what it looked like. Finally, it loomed over the nest.
It was Blossom. She daintily lowered her head into her tree trunk, listening carefully to the clicks she made. As Blossom was, unfortunately, blind she had to use other methods to navigate the area around her, such as echolocation and sense of smell. The silks that dangled down from her neck, tail and wings fluttered in the slight breeze that picked up. Pristine roses interlaced between her feathers, letting out a wonderfully sweet smell that attracted both bees and butterflies.
Tap. Tap. Blossom tilted her head. A faint noise came from a glowing egg. Ever so carefully, the delicate dragon nudged it, showing her motherly love for the hatchlings inside before they had even seen daylight. It rocked backwards before returning to its original position, the tapping sound from within suddenly a tiny bit louder. Blossom's ivory eyes lit up and intensely listened for the sound. The sound that she had heard many times before, but it was a sound that would never fail to make her heart beat and show her colours.
Then it happened. A crack popped up, both in Blossom's ears and on the shell, and the Imperial kindly smiled. Another crack. And then another. Then, after at least a five minute waiting and the mushrooms slowly beginning to sway to the music of the forest once more, the shell broke. A soggy blue Imperial's head stuck out, eyes closed and a baby tooth on the tip of its mouth - how it broke out. Blossom could not see her newest hatchling, but she could listen. Listen to the sudden silence of the shell. Listen to the wet sounds of the hatchling moving. Listen to the first sound it had ever made.
Then the other egg began to crack. The sound of its sibling breaking free fortified its childish strength, allowing it to begin snapping the shell into pieces without the need of weakening it first. Crack. It did not take long at all for the grey Pearlcatcher to emerge into the world that awaited for it. A tiny squeak burst out of the hatchling, celebrating the relief of breathing in the outside world.
Blossom listened to it all.
This one was interesting to write. I wanted to try tricking the reader into thinking that something bad was going to happen to the eggs, but then nope! I hope that you understand what I'm saying, haha. I made sure to make it a bit shorter than usual since you requested something short, but it ended up being a bit longer than I intended it to be. My bad.
Hope you enjoy it either way~
For @hollowheart7211
The jagged tree base sat in the shadows of lanky pines as mushrooms giggled around its gnarled roots, covering patches of ash bark with a soft glow of blue. On those mushrooms were bulging pockets that held millions of spores which swam in a milky liquid, giving the translucent walls of the mushroom a spiraling pattern that constantly danced in loops and twists and turns. Violet pine needles were scattered across the quivering grass. Hoots and booming laughter could be heard bouncing around in the illuminated forest, giving either an uneasy feel to those new to the Shadow lands, or a gleeful grin as one remembers the tricks and pranks so many love to play on each other.
However, in the tree trunk was not a party, nor was there nothing at all. Inside of it was a cloud of rough wool, some needles that had fallen in, patches of moss, and one or two random chess pieces that had somehow gotten in there. In the centre of the mess were two eggs. They rested like rocks in the tree, sinking further and further into the soft pile of fluff as days and nights strolled by. They emitted a glow very similar to the mushrooms lining the outside, but only lighting up their own grey shells.
A slithering sound slowly approached the shimmering shells, leaving a single line in its journey across the playful forest. It crushed any plants and fungi under its body, showing no remorse while it clicked to find the path to the lonely nest. The mushrooms that celebrated the new night dimmed as the thorns, tangling the wings that dared to carry the creature, scratched and clawed at them with no sense of morality. Bandages wrapped its neck, tail and wings. A pure white hood hid its head from those who want to know more about what it looked like. Finally, it loomed over the nest.
It was Blossom. She daintily lowered her head into her tree trunk, listening carefully to the clicks she made. As Blossom was, unfortunately, blind she had to use other methods to navigate the area around her, such as echolocation and sense of smell. The silks that dangled down from her neck, tail and wings fluttered in the slight breeze that picked up. Pristine roses interlaced between her feathers, letting out a wonderfully sweet smell that attracted both bees and butterflies.
Tap. Tap. Blossom tilted her head. A faint noise came from a glowing egg. Ever so carefully, the delicate dragon nudged it, showing her motherly love for the hatchlings inside before they had even seen daylight. It rocked backwards before returning to its original position, the tapping sound from within suddenly a tiny bit louder. Blossom's ivory eyes lit up and intensely listened for the sound. The sound that she had heard many times before, but it was a sound that would never fail to make her heart beat and show her colours.
Then it happened. A crack popped up, both in Blossom's ears and on the shell, and the Imperial kindly smiled. Another crack. And then another. Then, after at least a five minute waiting and the mushrooms slowly beginning to sway to the music of the forest once more, the shell broke. A soggy blue Imperial's head stuck out, eyes closed and a baby tooth on the tip of its mouth - how it broke out. Blossom could not see her newest hatchling, but she could listen. Listen to the sudden silence of the shell. Listen to the wet sounds of the hatchling moving. Listen to the first sound it had ever made.
Then the other egg began to crack. The sound of its sibling breaking free fortified its childish strength, allowing it to begin snapping the shell into pieces without the need of weakening it first. Crack. It did not take long at all for the grey Pearlcatcher to emerge into the world that awaited for it. A tiny squeak burst out of the hatchling, celebrating the relief of breathing in the outside world.
Blossom listened to it all.
This one was interesting to write. I wanted to try tricking the reader into thinking that something bad was going to happen to the eggs, but then nope! I hope that you understand what I'm saying, haha. I made sure to make it a bit shorter than usual since you requested something short, but it ended up being a bit longer than I intended it to be. My bad.
Hope you enjoy it either way~
The jagged tree base sat in the shadows of lanky pines as mushrooms giggled around its gnarled roots, covering patches of ash bark with a soft glow of blue. On those mushrooms were bulging pockets that held millions of spores which swam in a milky liquid, giving the translucent walls of the mushroom a spiraling pattern that constantly danced in loops and twists and turns. Violet pine needles were scattered across the quivering grass. Hoots and booming laughter could be heard bouncing around in the illuminated forest, giving either an uneasy feel to those new to the Shadow lands, or a gleeful grin as one remembers the tricks and pranks so many love to play on each other.
However, in the tree trunk was not a party, nor was there nothing at all. Inside of it was a cloud of rough wool, some needles that had fallen in, patches of moss, and one or two random chess pieces that had somehow gotten in there. In the centre of the mess were two eggs. They rested like rocks in the tree, sinking further and further into the soft pile of fluff as days and nights strolled by. They emitted a glow very similar to the mushrooms lining the outside, but only lighting up their own grey shells.
A slithering sound slowly approached the shimmering shells, leaving a single line in its journey across the playful forest. It crushed any plants and fungi under its body, showing no remorse while it clicked to find the path to the lonely nest. The mushrooms that celebrated the new night dimmed as the thorns, tangling the wings that dared to carry the creature, scratched and clawed at them with no sense of morality. Bandages wrapped its neck, tail and wings. A pure white hood hid its head from those who want to know more about what it looked like. Finally, it loomed over the nest.
It was Blossom. She daintily lowered her head into her tree trunk, listening carefully to the clicks she made. As Blossom was, unfortunately, blind she had to use other methods to navigate the area around her, such as echolocation and sense of smell. The silks that dangled down from her neck, tail and wings fluttered in the slight breeze that picked up. Pristine roses interlaced between her feathers, letting out a wonderfully sweet smell that attracted both bees and butterflies.
Tap. Tap. Blossom tilted her head. A faint noise came from a glowing egg. Ever so carefully, the delicate dragon nudged it, showing her motherly love for the hatchlings inside before they had even seen daylight. It rocked backwards before returning to its original position, the tapping sound from within suddenly a tiny bit louder. Blossom's ivory eyes lit up and intensely listened for the sound. The sound that she had heard many times before, but it was a sound that would never fail to make her heart beat and show her colours.
Then it happened. A crack popped up, both in Blossom's ears and on the shell, and the Imperial kindly smiled. Another crack. And then another. Then, after at least a five minute waiting and the mushrooms slowly beginning to sway to the music of the forest once more, the shell broke. A soggy blue Imperial's head stuck out, eyes closed and a baby tooth on the tip of its mouth - how it broke out. Blossom could not see her newest hatchling, but she could listen. Listen to the sudden silence of the shell. Listen to the wet sounds of the hatchling moving. Listen to the first sound it had ever made.
Then the other egg began to crack. The sound of its sibling breaking free fortified its childish strength, allowing it to begin snapping the shell into pieces without the need of weakening it first. Crack. It did not take long at all for the grey Pearlcatcher to emerge into the world that awaited for it. A tiny squeak burst out of the hatchling, celebrating the relief of breathing in the outside world.
Blossom listened to it all.
This one was interesting to write. I wanted to try tricking the reader into thinking that something bad was going to happen to the eggs, but then nope! I hope that you understand what I'm saying, haha. I made sure to make it a bit shorter than usual since you requested something short, but it ended up being a bit longer than I intended it to be. My bad.
Hope you enjoy it either way~
@puffyruffy
It’s AMAZING thank you! It’s so detailed and lovely ahhhhhh ;w;
It’s AMAZING thank you! It’s so detailed and lovely ahhhhhh ;w;
@puffyruffy
It’s AMAZING thank you! It’s so detailed and lovely ahhhhhh ;w;
It’s AMAZING thank you! It’s so detailed and lovely ahhhhhh ;w;
For @HarlequinCr0w
Warning: Gets dark towards the end~
The dead tree felt rough under his hand. Its flaky bark shed at a single motion, lightly dusting the Wildclaw's dull scales with a powder of grey. He stood there, eyes solemnly gazing over the dusty plateau that seemed to stretch on for miles with no chance on ever changing level. Obstructing his view was a simple camp made up of five flimsy tepees of which were patterned with either deep red, bright yellow, or a dirty orange. A fire had been made in the centre of the camp. It was out. Ash layered on the twigs and dry grass nearby, bleaching them of any colour. Between the linen housing and the extinguished fire was a gradual slide in colour, the maroon ground speckling up and outwards from the monochrome middle. Past the tepees were small pebbles, blending into the ground, and even further were tiny puddles of mysterious liquids that bubbled and constantly shifted between yellow and green and orange.
Demon felt alone. He wasn't sure why, which was why he had ventured over to the tree that drooped to one side. It was commonly known in his tiny family as the 'Thinking Tree', where one goes if one were confused or lost in the scheme of life. It wasn't pretty. Sharp sticks littered the floor after they had been snapped off without a care, and a crude rock that was slated into the ground looked like a pimple against the dull red. However, nobody complained about looks around there. The Plague territories were not known for their beauty, and especially not their safety. The only reason dragons and animals lived there was because they had adapted quickly, or they wished to see the vile Wyrmwound for some blasphemous reason.
Demon himself had been born in these unforgiving wastes, and had grown up wandering them for his entire life. Throughout his journey through life Demon had learned one thing, and that thing was to never stop moving. If one stayed too long in one spot something would eventually end up infecting them, even if the spot was relatively peaceful like where Demon was. Whether it was their body, mind or soul, they would get infected and never be able to be cured. One of Demon's grandfather had unfortunately learned this the hard way, teaching him this vital lesson that he could not understand before.
"Hey! Demon!" He turned around "Demon, there's this- just follow me, I don't know how to explain it." his little brother had tottered up to him from behind, admittedly shocking him as Demon was torn away from his thoughts. The Wildclaw blotched with white and red turned on his heel before Demon could respond, feathers still budding on his head and wings. The hatchling, in his opinion, was still far too curious about the world around him despite its repetitive scenery. From oddly shaped bones to differently coloured bones, Shaman questioned everything he deemed out of the norm. Demon himself had learned to simply accept it, but it appears that his brother's mind did not seem to understand this, or, more probable, refused to understand it. Shaking his head, Demon wondered when Shaman would learn.
Skipping and hopping, the rambunctious Wildclaw led Demon to wherever he was going to, somewhere that Demon was preparing an answer to before he even knew what was there. Shaman spun in a circle every so often to see whether Demon was still following, turning on one foot's toes and grinning mischievously before turning back around. Smiling, Demon wondered who his brother would grow up to be considering his personality. Would he grow up to be an adventurous explorer? A delicate healer? Perhaps a tricksy story teller? As the brothers trekked along the lonely plateau Demon could not help but think. It was in his blood.
At long last Shaman made one final leap across the dastardly gap of rock so that he landed feet first in front of another tree. Demon simply walked, not wanting to use his imagination like his brother did to create the trip more intense, and looked at the dead tree, and then Shaman, and then back again. It wasn't special at first glance, the bone white trunk still dotted with holes, but as Shaman drew closer to what was so interesting about it Demon saw.
There was a hole.
"Look, you see this?" Shaman had went onto all fours, grabbing a long twig out of many. "I can't find the bottom of this. I was going to climb down it, but I thought it'd be better to ask you first.". Shaman flattened the baby crown of feathers on his head against his skull, extending his arm as far as it would go down under the roots of the tree. It was obviously large enough for Shaman to crawl down with his slim body, but it was impossible for Demon to even stick his foot down without getting it horribly stuck. Little lines in the dirt expanded outwards from the hole. There was a chunk of ground missing from not too far away with claw marks . Demon knew what it was without needing to investigate. He felt a panic begin to take over his mind once he recognised the signs.
"Shaman, I need you to back away slowly from the hole. Listen to your brother. I'll tell you later what it is, but we need to get back home now." He was trying to sound calm and nonchalant, but there was hint of nervousness in his voice as his sentence trembled. He began to tip toe away.
"But why? Mama said we can stay outside as long as the sun's still high up in the sky."
"Shaman. Now."
"But-"
~
The scream of his brother right then and there still haunts Demon to this day.
Man, this was fun to write! This may sound a bit lame, but my heart literally began to pound towards the end. I would have carried on, but I think it might've been a bit too gruesome to write out what was in my mind on FR. I'll just leave it up to your imagination.
Hope you enjoy this different style of writing~
Warning: Gets dark towards the end~
The dead tree felt rough under his hand. Its flaky bark shed at a single motion, lightly dusting the Wildclaw's dull scales with a powder of grey. He stood there, eyes solemnly gazing over the dusty plateau that seemed to stretch on for miles with no chance on ever changing level. Obstructing his view was a simple camp made up of five flimsy tepees of which were patterned with either deep red, bright yellow, or a dirty orange. A fire had been made in the centre of the camp. It was out. Ash layered on the twigs and dry grass nearby, bleaching them of any colour. Between the linen housing and the extinguished fire was a gradual slide in colour, the maroon ground speckling up and outwards from the monochrome middle. Past the tepees were small pebbles, blending into the ground, and even further were tiny puddles of mysterious liquids that bubbled and constantly shifted between yellow and green and orange.
Demon felt alone. He wasn't sure why, which was why he had ventured over to the tree that drooped to one side. It was commonly known in his tiny family as the 'Thinking Tree', where one goes if one were confused or lost in the scheme of life. It wasn't pretty. Sharp sticks littered the floor after they had been snapped off without a care, and a crude rock that was slated into the ground looked like a pimple against the dull red. However, nobody complained about looks around there. The Plague territories were not known for their beauty, and especially not their safety. The only reason dragons and animals lived there was because they had adapted quickly, or they wished to see the vile Wyrmwound for some blasphemous reason.
Demon himself had been born in these unforgiving wastes, and had grown up wandering them for his entire life. Throughout his journey through life Demon had learned one thing, and that thing was to never stop moving. If one stayed too long in one spot something would eventually end up infecting them, even if the spot was relatively peaceful like where Demon was. Whether it was their body, mind or soul, they would get infected and never be able to be cured. One of Demon's grandfather had unfortunately learned this the hard way, teaching him this vital lesson that he could not understand before.
"Hey! Demon!" He turned around "Demon, there's this- just follow me, I don't know how to explain it." his little brother had tottered up to him from behind, admittedly shocking him as Demon was torn away from his thoughts. The Wildclaw blotched with white and red turned on his heel before Demon could respond, feathers still budding on his head and wings. The hatchling, in his opinion, was still far too curious about the world around him despite its repetitive scenery. From oddly shaped bones to differently coloured bones, Shaman questioned everything he deemed out of the norm. Demon himself had learned to simply accept it, but it appears that his brother's mind did not seem to understand this, or, more probable, refused to understand it. Shaking his head, Demon wondered when Shaman would learn.
Skipping and hopping, the rambunctious Wildclaw led Demon to wherever he was going to, somewhere that Demon was preparing an answer to before he even knew what was there. Shaman spun in a circle every so often to see whether Demon was still following, turning on one foot's toes and grinning mischievously before turning back around. Smiling, Demon wondered who his brother would grow up to be considering his personality. Would he grow up to be an adventurous explorer? A delicate healer? Perhaps a tricksy story teller? As the brothers trekked along the lonely plateau Demon could not help but think. It was in his blood.
At long last Shaman made one final leap across the dastardly gap of rock so that he landed feet first in front of another tree. Demon simply walked, not wanting to use his imagination like his brother did to create the trip more intense, and looked at the dead tree, and then Shaman, and then back again. It wasn't special at first glance, the bone white trunk still dotted with holes, but as Shaman drew closer to what was so interesting about it Demon saw.
There was a hole.
"Look, you see this?" Shaman had went onto all fours, grabbing a long twig out of many. "I can't find the bottom of this. I was going to climb down it, but I thought it'd be better to ask you first.". Shaman flattened the baby crown of feathers on his head against his skull, extending his arm as far as it would go down under the roots of the tree. It was obviously large enough for Shaman to crawl down with his slim body, but it was impossible for Demon to even stick his foot down without getting it horribly stuck. Little lines in the dirt expanded outwards from the hole. There was a chunk of ground missing from not too far away with claw marks . Demon knew what it was without needing to investigate. He felt a panic begin to take over his mind once he recognised the signs.
"Shaman, I need you to back away slowly from the hole. Listen to your brother. I'll tell you later what it is, but we need to get back home now." He was trying to sound calm and nonchalant, but there was hint of nervousness in his voice as his sentence trembled. He began to tip toe away.
"But why? Mama said we can stay outside as long as the sun's still high up in the sky."
"Shaman. Now."
"But-"
~
The scream of his brother right then and there still haunts Demon to this day.
Man, this was fun to write! This may sound a bit lame, but my heart literally began to pound towards the end. I would have carried on, but I think it might've been a bit too gruesome to write out what was in my mind on FR. I'll just leave it up to your imagination.
Hope you enjoy this different style of writing~
For @HarlequinCr0w
Warning: Gets dark towards the end~
The dead tree felt rough under his hand. Its flaky bark shed at a single motion, lightly dusting the Wildclaw's dull scales with a powder of grey. He stood there, eyes solemnly gazing over the dusty plateau that seemed to stretch on for miles with no chance on ever changing level. Obstructing his view was a simple camp made up of five flimsy tepees of which were patterned with either deep red, bright yellow, or a dirty orange. A fire had been made in the centre of the camp. It was out. Ash layered on the twigs and dry grass nearby, bleaching them of any colour. Between the linen housing and the extinguished fire was a gradual slide in colour, the maroon ground speckling up and outwards from the monochrome middle. Past the tepees were small pebbles, blending into the ground, and even further were tiny puddles of mysterious liquids that bubbled and constantly shifted between yellow and green and orange.
Demon felt alone. He wasn't sure why, which was why he had ventured over to the tree that drooped to one side. It was commonly known in his tiny family as the 'Thinking Tree', where one goes if one were confused or lost in the scheme of life. It wasn't pretty. Sharp sticks littered the floor after they had been snapped off without a care, and a crude rock that was slated into the ground looked like a pimple against the dull red. However, nobody complained about looks around there. The Plague territories were not known for their beauty, and especially not their safety. The only reason dragons and animals lived there was because they had adapted quickly, or they wished to see the vile Wyrmwound for some blasphemous reason.
Demon himself had been born in these unforgiving wastes, and had grown up wandering them for his entire life. Throughout his journey through life Demon had learned one thing, and that thing was to never stop moving. If one stayed too long in one spot something would eventually end up infecting them, even if the spot was relatively peaceful like where Demon was. Whether it was their body, mind or soul, they would get infected and never be able to be cured. One of Demon's grandfather had unfortunately learned this the hard way, teaching him this vital lesson that he could not understand before.
"Hey! Demon!" He turned around "Demon, there's this- just follow me, I don't know how to explain it." his little brother had tottered up to him from behind, admittedly shocking him as Demon was torn away from his thoughts. The Wildclaw blotched with white and red turned on his heel before Demon could respond, feathers still budding on his head and wings. The hatchling, in his opinion, was still far too curious about the world around him despite its repetitive scenery. From oddly shaped bones to differently coloured bones, Shaman questioned everything he deemed out of the norm. Demon himself had learned to simply accept it, but it appears that his brother's mind did not seem to understand this, or, more probable, refused to understand it. Shaking his head, Demon wondered when Shaman would learn.
Skipping and hopping, the rambunctious Wildclaw led Demon to wherever he was going to, somewhere that Demon was preparing an answer to before he even knew what was there. Shaman spun in a circle every so often to see whether Demon was still following, turning on one foot's toes and grinning mischievously before turning back around. Smiling, Demon wondered who his brother would grow up to be considering his personality. Would he grow up to be an adventurous explorer? A delicate healer? Perhaps a tricksy story teller? As the brothers trekked along the lonely plateau Demon could not help but think. It was in his blood.
At long last Shaman made one final leap across the dastardly gap of rock so that he landed feet first in front of another tree. Demon simply walked, not wanting to use his imagination like his brother did to create the trip more intense, and looked at the dead tree, and then Shaman, and then back again. It wasn't special at first glance, the bone white trunk still dotted with holes, but as Shaman drew closer to what was so interesting about it Demon saw.
There was a hole.
"Look, you see this?" Shaman had went onto all fours, grabbing a long twig out of many. "I can't find the bottom of this. I was going to climb down it, but I thought it'd be better to ask you first.". Shaman flattened the baby crown of feathers on his head against his skull, extending his arm as far as it would go down under the roots of the tree. It was obviously large enough for Shaman to crawl down with his slim body, but it was impossible for Demon to even stick his foot down without getting it horribly stuck. Little lines in the dirt expanded outwards from the hole. There was a chunk of ground missing from not too far away with claw marks . Demon knew what it was without needing to investigate. He felt a panic begin to take over his mind once he recognised the signs.
"Shaman, I need you to back away slowly from the hole. Listen to your brother. I'll tell you later what it is, but we need to get back home now." He was trying to sound calm and nonchalant, but there was hint of nervousness in his voice as his sentence trembled. He began to tip toe away.
"But why? Mama said we can stay outside as long as the sun's still high up in the sky."
"Shaman. Now."
"But-"
~
The scream of his brother right then and there still haunts Demon to this day.
Man, this was fun to write! This may sound a bit lame, but my heart literally began to pound towards the end. I would have carried on, but I think it might've been a bit too gruesome to write out what was in my mind on FR. I'll just leave it up to your imagination.
Hope you enjoy this different style of writing~
Warning: Gets dark towards the end~
The dead tree felt rough under his hand. Its flaky bark shed at a single motion, lightly dusting the Wildclaw's dull scales with a powder of grey. He stood there, eyes solemnly gazing over the dusty plateau that seemed to stretch on for miles with no chance on ever changing level. Obstructing his view was a simple camp made up of five flimsy tepees of which were patterned with either deep red, bright yellow, or a dirty orange. A fire had been made in the centre of the camp. It was out. Ash layered on the twigs and dry grass nearby, bleaching them of any colour. Between the linen housing and the extinguished fire was a gradual slide in colour, the maroon ground speckling up and outwards from the monochrome middle. Past the tepees were small pebbles, blending into the ground, and even further were tiny puddles of mysterious liquids that bubbled and constantly shifted between yellow and green and orange.
Demon felt alone. He wasn't sure why, which was why he had ventured over to the tree that drooped to one side. It was commonly known in his tiny family as the 'Thinking Tree', where one goes if one were confused or lost in the scheme of life. It wasn't pretty. Sharp sticks littered the floor after they had been snapped off without a care, and a crude rock that was slated into the ground looked like a pimple against the dull red. However, nobody complained about looks around there. The Plague territories were not known for their beauty, and especially not their safety. The only reason dragons and animals lived there was because they had adapted quickly, or they wished to see the vile Wyrmwound for some blasphemous reason.
Demon himself had been born in these unforgiving wastes, and had grown up wandering them for his entire life. Throughout his journey through life Demon had learned one thing, and that thing was to never stop moving. If one stayed too long in one spot something would eventually end up infecting them, even if the spot was relatively peaceful like where Demon was. Whether it was their body, mind or soul, they would get infected and never be able to be cured. One of Demon's grandfather had unfortunately learned this the hard way, teaching him this vital lesson that he could not understand before.
"Hey! Demon!" He turned around "Demon, there's this- just follow me, I don't know how to explain it." his little brother had tottered up to him from behind, admittedly shocking him as Demon was torn away from his thoughts. The Wildclaw blotched with white and red turned on his heel before Demon could respond, feathers still budding on his head and wings. The hatchling, in his opinion, was still far too curious about the world around him despite its repetitive scenery. From oddly shaped bones to differently coloured bones, Shaman questioned everything he deemed out of the norm. Demon himself had learned to simply accept it, but it appears that his brother's mind did not seem to understand this, or, more probable, refused to understand it. Shaking his head, Demon wondered when Shaman would learn.
Skipping and hopping, the rambunctious Wildclaw led Demon to wherever he was going to, somewhere that Demon was preparing an answer to before he even knew what was there. Shaman spun in a circle every so often to see whether Demon was still following, turning on one foot's toes and grinning mischievously before turning back around. Smiling, Demon wondered who his brother would grow up to be considering his personality. Would he grow up to be an adventurous explorer? A delicate healer? Perhaps a tricksy story teller? As the brothers trekked along the lonely plateau Demon could not help but think. It was in his blood.
At long last Shaman made one final leap across the dastardly gap of rock so that he landed feet first in front of another tree. Demon simply walked, not wanting to use his imagination like his brother did to create the trip more intense, and looked at the dead tree, and then Shaman, and then back again. It wasn't special at first glance, the bone white trunk still dotted with holes, but as Shaman drew closer to what was so interesting about it Demon saw.
There was a hole.
"Look, you see this?" Shaman had went onto all fours, grabbing a long twig out of many. "I can't find the bottom of this. I was going to climb down it, but I thought it'd be better to ask you first.". Shaman flattened the baby crown of feathers on his head against his skull, extending his arm as far as it would go down under the roots of the tree. It was obviously large enough for Shaman to crawl down with his slim body, but it was impossible for Demon to even stick his foot down without getting it horribly stuck. Little lines in the dirt expanded outwards from the hole. There was a chunk of ground missing from not too far away with claw marks . Demon knew what it was without needing to investigate. He felt a panic begin to take over his mind once he recognised the signs.
"Shaman, I need you to back away slowly from the hole. Listen to your brother. I'll tell you later what it is, but we need to get back home now." He was trying to sound calm and nonchalant, but there was hint of nervousness in his voice as his sentence trembled. He began to tip toe away.
"But why? Mama said we can stay outside as long as the sun's still high up in the sky."
"Shaman. Now."
"But-"
~
The scream of his brother right then and there still haunts Demon to this day.
Man, this was fun to write! This may sound a bit lame, but my heart literally began to pound towards the end. I would have carried on, but I think it might've been a bit too gruesome to write out what was in my mind on FR. I'll just leave it up to your imagination.
Hope you enjoy this different style of writing~
@PuffyRuffy
Oh my gosh that's a really well written story! What happened to Shaman is sad, but I did request a dark story and you delivered! I would have loved to read the gruesome part, but I also love the way it's left up to the reader's imagination :)
Thank you so much for taking the time to write, I really appreciate it! Glad you had fun writing, I enjoyed reading it as well ^-^ Do you have a writing shop? If not, perhaps you'd like to consider opening one. Your writing's captivating and I love how you described the scene!
Oh my gosh that's a really well written story! What happened to Shaman is sad, but I did request a dark story and you delivered! I would have loved to read the gruesome part, but I also love the way it's left up to the reader's imagination :)
Thank you so much for taking the time to write, I really appreciate it! Glad you had fun writing, I enjoyed reading it as well ^-^ Do you have a writing shop? If not, perhaps you'd like to consider opening one. Your writing's captivating and I love how you described the scene!
@PuffyRuffy
Oh my gosh that's a really well written story! What happened to Shaman is sad, but I did request a dark story and you delivered! I would have loved to read the gruesome part, but I also love the way it's left up to the reader's imagination :)
Thank you so much for taking the time to write, I really appreciate it! Glad you had fun writing, I enjoyed reading it as well ^-^ Do you have a writing shop? If not, perhaps you'd like to consider opening one. Your writing's captivating and I love how you described the scene!
Oh my gosh that's a really well written story! What happened to Shaman is sad, but I did request a dark story and you delivered! I would have loved to read the gruesome part, but I also love the way it's left up to the reader's imagination :)
Thank you so much for taking the time to write, I really appreciate it! Glad you had fun writing, I enjoyed reading it as well ^-^ Do you have a writing shop? If not, perhaps you'd like to consider opening one. Your writing's captivating and I love how you described the scene!
@HarlequinCr0w
You're very welcome! I always enjoy writing dark stories (horror stories are my favourite), so I loved writing your piece~
It took me quite a while to think of an idea for your piece because I had a bit of a writer's block the past week. I picked up a new book and then my mind just went *click*. c:
As I said before, I don't have a writing shop quite yet. Once I finish Johad's story I will be taking a little break from writing for others and just start up my own clan. I started this thread to help me start thinking creatively actually, and it helped a lot. However once I am happy with my clan or had a sufficient break I'll probably start up a shop. ^^
You're very welcome! I always enjoy writing dark stories (horror stories are my favourite), so I loved writing your piece~
It took me quite a while to think of an idea for your piece because I had a bit of a writer's block the past week. I picked up a new book and then my mind just went *click*. c:
As I said before, I don't have a writing shop quite yet. Once I finish Johad's story I will be taking a little break from writing for others and just start up my own clan. I started this thread to help me start thinking creatively actually, and it helped a lot. However once I am happy with my clan or had a sufficient break I'll probably start up a shop. ^^
@HarlequinCr0w
You're very welcome! I always enjoy writing dark stories (horror stories are my favourite), so I loved writing your piece~
It took me quite a while to think of an idea for your piece because I had a bit of a writer's block the past week. I picked up a new book and then my mind just went *click*. c:
As I said before, I don't have a writing shop quite yet. Once I finish Johad's story I will be taking a little break from writing for others and just start up my own clan. I started this thread to help me start thinking creatively actually, and it helped a lot. However once I am happy with my clan or had a sufficient break I'll probably start up a shop. ^^
You're very welcome! I always enjoy writing dark stories (horror stories are my favourite), so I loved writing your piece~
It took me quite a while to think of an idea for your piece because I had a bit of a writer's block the past week. I picked up a new book and then my mind just went *click*. c:
As I said before, I don't have a writing shop quite yet. Once I finish Johad's story I will be taking a little break from writing for others and just start up my own clan. I started this thread to help me start thinking creatively actually, and it helped a lot. However once I am happy with my clan or had a sufficient break I'll probably start up a shop. ^^