Writing Prompt: 5/24/17

Writing Prompts1

I’m in a writing server, and the organizer created a writing prompt for the week that I found to be delightful. So… I wrote a thing. Woohoo!

The Prompt: The world didn’t end with a bang or a whimper–it ended one scream at a time.

The fic is below!


Hunting in the Dark

She breathed, moving through the woods light-footed and intent in the darkness. She could hear the quiet pitter-patter of footfalls to the left and right, where her brothers and sisters hunted with her; nightfall was precious and rare creatures emerged from dens and borrows during the hours the suns hid their face. He would only give them so long, after all.

Doir lunged over a dropped log (not so old, she thought, but dead long enough that the bark had gone, if not long enough that the luminescent fauna had arrived to cannibalize it) and nearly lost her footing over a clutch of slick stones. One of her brothers hissed a protest to be quiet, then caught his ankle in a rabbit-hold and went tumbling forward into the brush. She smothered a bark of laughter and settled for grinning, reaching up to caress a low oak branch as she ducked beneath it.

Leaves rustled, a spirit’s greeting, and she felt her heart lighten as she continued onward. In the distance the false-suns that the Kakori used to light their settlements glittered like not-so-distant stars. They feared the darkness, but Doir and her kin reveled in it, alive as if for the first times in their lives. These were their woods; they knew them, and the wind and trees whispered to them secrets of the future.

“There’s a herd of voli to the east,” Doir’s sister said, dropping down from one of Grandfather Oark’s wide branches next to her. The whisper wasn’t meant to carry far. Voli were dangerous to hunt, and it was Doir’s choice if she wanted to take the party there, for voli were her hunting spirit.

“Anything else?”

“The Kakori are doing something in the north, beyond their settlement,” her sister’s lips twitched into an annoyed frown. “I would like to check it out, but..”

But no one here was a hunter of Kakori. Let the Kakori do what they willed, as long as they left the deep woods to the Children of the Sky. She did not have any desire to traverse that far in search of something they could not eat, for a people who could no sooner see in the darkness than they could swim across the river.

“Keep watch on the voli,” Doir requested, pausing in her movement to cast about in the dark for the rest of her kin. “We might go back for them later.” They were blooded hunters, except one; Liar, who hoped to make his first blood of the towering king-of-beast, the morial. She had heard the Kakori call them other things, wrecks maybe, though the Kakori tongue was strange. Not that the Kakori had better chances at surviving the morial than they did. Though they were, supposedly, Liar’s hunting spirit. She would help him if she could, but first and last blood had to be his.

She wasn’t out here for morial, though. None of them were. But where one found morial, one found the alori, huge and silvery birds with beaks the size of young trees and wings that spread as large as Grandfather Oark’s branches. And at night, the alori slept.

She whistled, low and haunting. The call of a huntress leading a band.

She knew it haunted Kakori nightmares. Strange sounds from the rare nights that no one could place? What other things might cause them fear?

When she had the attention of her brothers and sisters, she raised her hand high and then motioned to the north-west, where she knew there was a morial hunting ground. Knew and sometimes wished she didn’t, for Liar wasn’t the first of the hunt to wish for a morial kill. But if they were lucky, the trees were tall enough they could scale for alori and ignore the morial altogether…

They were not lucky, and it had nothing to do with trees.

On the forest below, clad in their strange hunting gear of black and green, a hunting pack of Kakori moved in bewildering, unsettling precision. They moved quiet, but not quiet like Doir and her siblings. Quiet like this drove away the creatures of the night, which made them loud, while Doir and the others moved as part of the woods instead. The Kakori were not part of the woods; Grandfather Oark did not shelter them, nor did his many cousins.

They made their homes from the dead and the dying, they trapped the light of the Sky in shards– they were strange and foreign people, and they looked very little like Doir’s.

But even though they were foolish people, they were people, and the morial did not sleep when the suns were resting. The roar shook the air around them, leaves quivering, trees shaking. Beneath the Kakori, the ground rumbled, and then a morial– adolescent, not yet having acquired the reddish colors of adulthood, some scaled flesh still opalescent– charged into the pack of them.

Doir watched from the safety of the trees, staring down with gnawing horror taking root in her belly. Kakori screamed when they died; Doir could understand it, because the Kakori did not seem to understand that death simply was, and they feared it. But they screamed, not understanding of the danger they had walked into, and it sent chills up her spine.

“They’re dying,” her brother whispered, as confused and upset by the scene below as she felt, voice thick with it. She swallowed, nodded.

They were people, though, and Liar–

The alori could wait. Doir let go of her hold and moved forward, fling herself off it. As she fell, she loosed her dagger from the ties.

They usually left the Kakori to their own devices. They did not interfere. That was how the world worked.

But they were people, screaming– and that was how Doir decided the world must end.


Finito! Cross-posting it on Ao3.

Twitter | Tumblr | NaNo Page | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee

Advertisements

News Update: 5/18/17

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything that wasn’t a review, I think. I’m sorry about that. Real life is… uh. Real life. Blurgh.

I swear I’m going to start writing again soon. I’m managing small little pieces, which isn’t much but still proves to be better than nothing. Mostly I’ve just been working (three jobs, and one of them outweighs the other in terms of physical stress) and relaxing, reading things and playing videogames. Watching movies. *motion* It does wonders for bringing in strange tidbits and thoughts. I have so many ideas for things to write, some of which actually belong to things I’ve already got started, but finding time is…

Well. I’m trying, is the thing.

On the outside of real life, I’m getting a tooth yanked next Tuesday, and I am prepared to suffer for the next month for it. Which means watching what I eat, being careful what I do, and trying to keep my core temperature down for the foreseeable future. It also means I’ll be sleeping a lot and trying not to accidentally OD on the painkillers. (Reference: Once was enough, it gave me amazing concepts for hallucinations and strange dreams, but also, once was enough.)

But all that means I’m going to have a little bit more sit down time to relax, at least in the early days, even if I’ll spend most of that sleeping. At least the trip up means that I’ll be able to scratch out a little bit of writing. Worldbuilding, at least. I’m trying to break down several fics and get them moving, and I’ve made progress but progress is slow. *eyes them*

At least it’s progress. And it’s more than I did in the first four months, so I’m okay with a little momentum to start. Momentum, after all, builds up.

Up and up and up.

Sidenote, did you know there is an I Love You Wall in Paris? I didn’t. It was a lovely thing to trip over doing research for something entirely different.

–Natasha

Twitter | Tumblr | NaNo Page | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee

Shop Rec: Rawr Dragon Creations

One of the things I like to do when I can’t make my words behave is go window-shopping. I can’t actually buy anything, as I’m currently broke and out of space (what I wouldn’t give for a Bag of Holding,) but every so often I come across truly interesting bits of trivia or absolutely amazing shops. One of those shops is Rawr Dragon Creations.

Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Website

Rawr Dragons sculpts itty bitty desktop critters by hand, meaning there are no two pieces exactly alike. According to research, a lot of her dragons are inspired by plucking d20s out of a hat, which goes to choose a color scheme and then spirals outwards from there. Sculpting isn’t my area of expertise, so I can’t go to say much about the process, and I hesitate to ask the artist in case they accidentally leak a trade secret!

Although they do post a lot of in-progress works, so you can see dragons taking shape piece by piece. I probably wouldn’t be able to do anything half as good, so it’s a good thing Rawr Dragons is doing it instead– the artist has way more experience than I do, and every day of it shows! I think one day I might have to save up some money and buy a piece. You know, right after I get a display case. I wonder if she’d sign a card and ship it with?

Of course, there probably wouldn’t be a large market if she did just one type of dragon. I understand the above is a ‘curler,’ and isn’t she a beautiful thing? I can’t even start on how delicate the fins look, and ‘delicate’ isn’t usually a thing I associate with sculpting. Usually you think strong flower vases or something, but I think the edges of these might cut me if I ran my finger along the edge! How cool is that?

Look at this little guy? Wouldn’t you love to find him in the pumpkin patch? Speaking of.. Apparently Rawr Dragons has one of those too. I think these are keychains? But they’re super cool for leafy little orange emoticons. I’ll take the little one in the back, second from the left!

I’m not sure what the going price for Rawr Dragons’ work is right now, but even if it’s a little out of your price range, it’s definitely super cool to go browse! Take a peek, and tell her I sent you!

–Natasha

Twitter | Tumblr | NaNo Page | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee