Chilled (Story, WIP)
Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 2:05 pm
Just practicing my writing skills, seeing as they aren't being put to much use. If you see an error, feel free to point it out. If you have constructive criticism, feel free to share it.
When I say constructive I don't mean 'This was bad', I mean highlighting what could be improved. Like... 'Overall this had a nice gloomy feeling but you should work on the describing parts. Example: ___'
Questions will be answered to the best of my ability.
Part One: Prologue
The cold soaring wind was bitter and harsh, the snow falling as white bullets across the meadow. Birds with ruffled sapphire and crimson feathers perched in trees, side-by-side, while larger raptor-eyed hawks watched on with blood-thirsty intent. Rabbits and mice huddled in their dens together in an attempt to stay warm, ignoring the stale scent of fox and coyote that drifted in with the snow.
They didn’t have to worry- no red furred canine or sharp clawed cat would be outside in this weather. Time itself had been put on hold for this coming blizzard- and the silence was only broken by the pained wailing of a vixen.
The other foxes ignored the cries, and occasionally twitched their nose at the death-scent that came from That Burrow- the burrow that they had silently agreed to ignore, for it didn’t compare to the blizzard. The blizzard was all that mattered. The icy snow-bound world was all that mattered now, and the lonely vixen would have to suffer it alone.
They knew she probably wouldn’t survive. They didn’t care.
The vixen screamed and howled even though her pained crying had gone unheard- her mate was now with the Others, having succumbed to the cold ice beyond her den. He had vanished early on in winter- he would never be seen again.
The fox panted and whined, her body relaxing for a moment in the fluffy straw nest before tensing up again around the tiny wet bodies that had already arrived. Another kit slid out, dark as the rest but didn’t utter a sound. The vixen shuddered and lay still finally, her thin frame finally easing up and her cries going silent. Her throat burned from the shredded screams and for a moment she considered ignoring the wet bundles and just going to sleep, but after a few heartbeats she bent her head to lick them.
Seven tiny kits. Only three responded to her grooming with weak grunts, and the vixen scraped her cat-like tongue desperately over the rest- Wake up, she wanted to say. Please wake up.
She licked them harder, each and every one while begging the heavens to let her have the chance to be a good mother- three of her kits were weak, and the rest...
Suddenly one of the stagnant bundles let out a cry, quiet mewling to the rest of the world but a yowl of determination to the lonely mother.
She let out a sigh of relief, nuzzling the kit and carefully nudging the other three squirming bundles closer to her starved belly. She was hungry, and there wasn’t much milk- but it was enough. The other stilled bodies were cold and stiff already, but hope blazed on inside the vixen as she stared at the four wriggling kits that now suckled quietly.
They pawed at her stomach, nubby paws pressed firmly against the vixen- proof that they were alive.
She stared outside, eyes challenging the icy world.
These kits, these kits will live. You won’t take them from me.
The wind howled back.
When I say constructive I don't mean 'This was bad', I mean highlighting what could be improved. Like... 'Overall this had a nice gloomy feeling but you should work on the describing parts. Example: ___'
Questions will be answered to the best of my ability.
Part One: Prologue
The cold soaring wind was bitter and harsh, the snow falling as white bullets across the meadow. Birds with ruffled sapphire and crimson feathers perched in trees, side-by-side, while larger raptor-eyed hawks watched on with blood-thirsty intent. Rabbits and mice huddled in their dens together in an attempt to stay warm, ignoring the stale scent of fox and coyote that drifted in with the snow.
They didn’t have to worry- no red furred canine or sharp clawed cat would be outside in this weather. Time itself had been put on hold for this coming blizzard- and the silence was only broken by the pained wailing of a vixen.
The other foxes ignored the cries, and occasionally twitched their nose at the death-scent that came from That Burrow- the burrow that they had silently agreed to ignore, for it didn’t compare to the blizzard. The blizzard was all that mattered. The icy snow-bound world was all that mattered now, and the lonely vixen would have to suffer it alone.
They knew she probably wouldn’t survive. They didn’t care.
The vixen screamed and howled even though her pained crying had gone unheard- her mate was now with the Others, having succumbed to the cold ice beyond her den. He had vanished early on in winter- he would never be seen again.
The fox panted and whined, her body relaxing for a moment in the fluffy straw nest before tensing up again around the tiny wet bodies that had already arrived. Another kit slid out, dark as the rest but didn’t utter a sound. The vixen shuddered and lay still finally, her thin frame finally easing up and her cries going silent. Her throat burned from the shredded screams and for a moment she considered ignoring the wet bundles and just going to sleep, but after a few heartbeats she bent her head to lick them.
Seven tiny kits. Only three responded to her grooming with weak grunts, and the vixen scraped her cat-like tongue desperately over the rest- Wake up, she wanted to say. Please wake up.
She licked them harder, each and every one while begging the heavens to let her have the chance to be a good mother- three of her kits were weak, and the rest...
Suddenly one of the stagnant bundles let out a cry, quiet mewling to the rest of the world but a yowl of determination to the lonely mother.
She let out a sigh of relief, nuzzling the kit and carefully nudging the other three squirming bundles closer to her starved belly. She was hungry, and there wasn’t much milk- but it was enough. The other stilled bodies were cold and stiff already, but hope blazed on inside the vixen as she stared at the four wriggling kits that now suckled quietly.
They pawed at her stomach, nubby paws pressed firmly against the vixen- proof that they were alive.
She stared outside, eyes challenging the icy world.
These kits, these kits will live. You won’t take them from me.
The wind howled back.
MAKE IT INTO A STORY! :3