| 08-16-2007, 05:33 PM || #11 |
Only in trades.
Join Date: Jun 2007
| | Re: story contest for anyone
I really like that chapter. Is that out of a book or did you write it yourself?
Originally Posted by DragonStar1995
I'm going to enter.
This is only part of a story, because the whole thing would take forever.
I was out late in the forest of Elmwydd. Tall shadows grew around me as the setting sun lit the leaves, turning them gold. I was tracking a deer, and although it was small, it would feed me for at least a week, and I could freeze or thaw it whenever I needed.
For seven years I had lived in the woods after being banished from the Realm, because I apposed against the new king, and rebelled. I built a hut with the help of my small dragon, Wydria. Wydria could also heat the hut, and I was able to cook. After living there for a month or so, I made myself a bow and a quiver full of arrows. I had enchanted the quiver to never empty unless I said so. But life was hard, mainly because I sometimes couldn’t get enough to eat, and they are still looking for me.
I spotted my prey. Swiftly but silently I crept through the trees. Closer…closer…
I pulled out an arrow from my quiver, and set it in place. Pulling back the string and arrow, I aimed, and shot.
It was a perfect hit.
‘Wydria! Wyyyyyydriiiiaaaaaaaaaa! Come!’
I called for her, so she could help bring dinner back to our hut. I never kill with magic. I always thought that it was unfair, and never gave my prey a chance to escape.
A strange whooshing sound filled the air, and a silver dragon dived out of the sky. Wydria is a small dragon, but still a good size. She has the special power of Concealment, and can change her appearance and colors, and also can put some of the power on things, so she enchanted our hut so no-one besides ourselves (and whoever we told) could see it. She changes her stomach and under wing colors so that they match the sky, and then is invisible.
‘You called for me, Alevria?’ Wydria’s voice is soft, and musical, with a slight lilt.
‘Yes. I just got out dinner, and need help to get it back to our home.’
Nodding, she picked up the deer, and shot up like a arrow. I knew she would get home before me, so I strolled, and found some herbs that I needed.
“Sagethorn…Rosepetals…Briarflowers…..Phoenixfeather leaves…I think that’s it.” I said to myself as I picked the appropriate leaves and flowers.
The path opened up to a small clearing with a hut in the middle, and flowers around the edges.
I was home.
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