A howl cuts through the silvered night. The woodsman wakes and silently he creeps from the bed slowly moving along the floor so as not to stir his sleeping wife.1
as he grabs his boots and slides them on he here's a rustling out back and instinctively reaches for his wood-axe and a knife. the the knife he tucks into the band of his winter johns the metal cool against his skin causing him to just give the slightest of winces. The axe fits in his other hand like a glove. It has been well worn over the years and has supported him and his wife quite well. She has always been a bit jealous of the axe for he spend more time with that than her she says. He knows it's true but he loves what he does and he loves her just as well they are both in his blood. 2
he opens the door of their cabin greeted by a stiff sharp spurt of air, his breath hangs before him in suspended puffs like ethereal dancers enticing him on his silent way.He holds the axe gently like a lover that is well know to his touch it is almost as if it is apart of him and not an inanimate object. As he crosses the yard he hears the stirring again. A growl and then a cacophony of sound coming from the chicken Coop. he moves through the snow quickly for one of his years nearly silent,each step sleekly calculated to make a minimum of sound. He unloosens the latch and opens the door. Quickly. Barging in he finds himself in a mixture of flying feathers, a chaotic cackle of sound and blurs of motion. as something then slams him to the ground that was not a chicken. Slightly dazed by the influx of motion he rises as the axe is lost among the frantic birds. He reaches for the knife and instinctively throws it at motion out the door. 3
He rushes outside covered in feathers and hay straw. Only to see a glimpse of a white wolf with a chicken in her mouth heading for the forest. Her silver streamlined form disappearing in a glimmering snowdrift between moonlit shadows. 4
He returns to the coop and retrieves the axe and looks at it quizzically saying " Oh fine help you were" and returns to the yard. Where he see mixed in the snow tiny droplets of red that look black upon this pristine carpet. He returns to his cabin as quietly as hen left. Before entering he knocks some of the feathers off and the straw and sneaks back inside tit mouse-ily climbing back into bed so as not to disturb his slumbering wife. 5
As he lay his head upon the pillow he hears her voice. simply say " did you get it" "No" is his reply. 6
"But I think I can track her tomorrow if the snows do not come back"7
"good we have barely enough to survive ourselves and her hide will make a fine lining for new boots" 8
'Go to sleep dear we will see what tomorrow brings, for we should not be counting our chicks before they hatch" 9
Her reply "But they have hatched and those damn wolves keep stealing them"10
" good night woman now sleep"11
In the morning they awoke, to a crisp and clean world covered in white, a pure white that reflected the sun so the ground looked of light and mad one think of magical things. After breakfast, a brew she had been passing off to him as coffee for years and some oatedmeal he grabbed his axe and said he was off to find the thieves. And left out the door.12
She Just "harrumphed" him as he left. But from her window she watched him disappear into the woods and stared at that spot long after he was gone. Knowing how terribly she already missed him.13
Author notes
This is the first part of the tales of Obsarion.
I hope you enjoy. I want to make it a roller coaster of a ride.
Shadows
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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very slick. I can see the action in my mind, as vivid as noontime. And besides, I like wolves. Very wise creatures, them wolves. Keep a-goin'.
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Want more
Oh...this got me hooked. Write some more so i can read some more!
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This makes much more sense as an introduction to a longer story, as you say it's going to be, than as something that stands alone. While I applaud the vivid imagery and descriptions throughtout this work, it leaves me with a sense of incompleteness... keep going, though, I'm sure it will turn out wonderfully in the end.
-HLT -
Wolf, tis a very captivating story you have going. It peaked my attention from begining to end. Very much enjoyed the read!
Nicole
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Brilliant
you cant help but fall into this... very good read..
So much to get through on this site I just love reading other peoples work and this one is fantastic -
This has the potential of being a great story filled with very vivid imagery. From an editor's perspective, however, this must be considered a first draft in need of a lot of editing for spelling, punctuation, paragraphing, redundancy, and so forth. So get to work, writer!
On my Author Page under My Lists is category Helpful Hints for Writers Aspiring to become Authors, in which is an article that might be of help to you, Writers' Seven Deadly Sins.
Love and hugs, B♥nnieQ
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A howl cuts through the silvered night. The woodsman wakes and silently he creeps from the bed slowly moving along the floor so as not to stir his sleeping wife.
as he grabs his boots and slides them on he here's a rustling out back and instinctively reaches for his wood-axe and a knife. the the knife he tucks into the band of his winter johns the metal cool against his skin causing him to just give the slightest of winces. The axe fits in his other hand like a glove. It has been well worn over the years and has supported him and his wife quite well. She has always been a bit jealous of the axe for he spend more time with that than her she says. He knows it's true but he loves what he does and he loves her just as well they are both in his blood.
he opens the door of their cabin greeted by a stiff sharp spurt of air, his breath hangs before him in suspended puffs like ethereal dancers enticing him on his silent way.He holds the axe gently like a lover that is well know to his touch it is almost as if it is apart of him and not an inanimate object. As he crosses the yard he hears the stirring again. A growl and then a cacophony of sound coming from the chicken Coop. he moves through the snow quickly for one of his years nearly
Awsome story. job keep writing fantasy -
A most awesome tale in the making! Very much enjoyed reading this, darlin'! Your talent amazes me! Keep writing your tales, stories, and poems and I, for sure, will keep reading! Love and hugs, Sandy
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