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-- This is an ongoing story, unedited, about an alien on an adventure across her planet. An unplanned story, I’ll post updates when I’m able.
Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3
Treka opened her eyes a moment later to the sound of shouting growing closer. She was trapped under the scaly bulk of the stranger she’d been running from though she didn’t seem to be in danger from anything besides being crushed. And possibly the vile odor seeping from it’s mouth, a mouth that was filled with rows of bladed teeth and though thankfully unmoving, was still uncomfortably close to Treka’s own. Whimpering and trying to breathe as little as possible, she wriggled beneath the stranger in an attempt to loosen her arms from where they were pinned. It was this movement that caused the dull pain she’d felt in her lower left arm, the one that had reached out for the throwing sharp, to turn into a slicing hot pain, one that tore from her mouth in a ragged roar.
The voices were coming closer, ones Treka recognized, and in a few more painful moments, the weight was shifted off of her and she was free to sit up. Not that she could. She pulled her broken arm in towards her chest, cradling it with her other three as she willed herself not to scream. A calloused hand touched her cheek briefly as a figure, one of the Protectors, crouched down beside her prone form.
“Treka? Are you still land-bound, or have you left us to play with the sky brights?” Ge-Renk murmured gently, his eyes searching her scrunched up face.
Treka groaned and opened one eye to look quickly at Ge-Renk before shutting it tight against the wave of dizziness. At least she was already on the ground and couldn’t fall over, though all her senses were begging her to hold on to something.
“I’m still land-bound, Ge-Renk, though I’m wishing right now I had made the journey to the sky brights.”
Ge-Renk chuckled before gently scooping her up into his arms. As he stood he said, “Su-Nami saw you running from the homefire and sent a Protector after you but by the time they caught up, you had one of those strangers trailing you. The Protector saw you headed towards the training circle, so the call went out to the rest of us and while the stranger was distracted, we were able to take it down with some well-aimed throwing sharps.”
His gate was smooth as he walked, carrying Treka to the Mender’s house where the Menders would tend to her arm and whatever was going on with her head. She kept her eyes shut so as not to upend the contents of her stomach, but she managed to rumble out a thank you.
“It is we who shall be thanking you Treka. We found the children in the food cellar and they told us how you hid them there to protect them from the strangers while you went to aid the rest of the circle.” Ge-Renk shifted his grip and Treka hid her wince. “We saw you lead the stranger away from the homefire. The elders and all who were at the homefire know what you’ve done for them. For us.”
Treka felt her back heating up and only hoped her cloth covering was still intact enough that the embarrassment didn’t show. She was mercifully saved from answering by their arrival at the Mender’s house where Treka was promptly laid out on a softstone and Ge-Renk was shooed out.
The Protector Leader turned to look at her one last time as he left, calling out, “We’ll make you a Protector, Treka. Get well and we’ll talk later, when calm has returned to the Stone Circle.” With that he held out his upper left arm and mimed scooping something up with his hand before throwing it into the sky, fingers flared wide. The Protector acknowledgement of one of their own esteemed members. Treka had peered out at him through the arms of the bustling Mender when he had started to leave and now she very much wished she’d kept her eyes shut. The Mender, Tral was his name Treka thought, let out a rumbling chuckle when he saw Treka’s back heat with embarrassment. The chuckle was abruptly cut off with a swear when Treka’s back spots began to faintly glow.
I think, when criticizing writing, there’s often quite a bit of confusion between unrealistic and breaking immersion. Too often I see people using the first term when what they actually mean is the second one.
See, when we engage with fiction, we suspend our disbelief about certain things. The author tells us that magic exists, so we’re willing to suspend our disbelief about the existence of magic. The more the author works to build an immersive world, the easier it is for us to suspend our disbelief and accept what’s going on. What’s ‘real’ or ‘isn’t real’ in our world isn’t important, but what’s ‘real’ in this fictional world does.
Good writing doesn’t need to be realistic but it does need to be immersive. We need to be able to stay in that suspension of disbelief, because once that’s broken, everything else can come crashing down with it.
So when people talk about one character or another’s choice being unrealistic what they often mean is that it broke their immersion. We are willing to accept the new rules of any given reality, so long as they are established for us. When new concepts come out of nowhere that weren’t introduced to us previously, that can make the world feel unreal. This can come in the form of rapid changes in the setting, tone, characterization, etc. It breaks our ability to suspend our disbelief, and brings back all of our critical thinking we purposefully set aside to enjoy the story.
Sometimes that’s a good thing, sometimes that’s what the author was trying to do, to get us to question everything that we thought we knew. But when it’s unintentional, poorly set up, repetitive, etc, then it just becomes a frustrating experience for the reader and makes the story unenjoyable.
I think the best way to understand this difference is to think of the classic ACME Toonville worlds. Cartoons have different rules to them, characters may survive things like anvils dropped on them with no more than annoyance, they can be run over by trains or change form completely in a matter of seconds. Those are all clearly established rules of the universe, and we can suspend our disbelief to accept them.
But now imagine if in one episode, without warning, an anvil was dropped on the wile coyote, and he died. Blood splattered everywhere, a mangled body left behind. And that was it. He was gone.
All the sudden, your immersion would be totally broken. Every past instance of anvil dropping and every future instance now becomes horrifying and hard to watch.
That’s what breaking immersion feels like when done poorly. That’s why consistence in writing is important, combined with of purposeful, deliberate changes. And that’s what I think people often mean when they say something feels ‘unrealistic’. They mean that it feels unreal within the universe created by the story as they’ve understood it, and as a result makes it hard to enjoy the story itself.
-- This is an ongoing story, unedited, posted here as I write it. CW mild violence
Pt. 1 here, Pt. 2 here
Sticking to the bushes and the dark spots as best she could, Treka picked her way towards the Elder’s house near the center of the circle and closest to the largest of the homefires. She didn’t see any more of the strangers as she went, but that didn’t mean they might not still be lurking in a house or around a corner somewhere. The screams had also subsided, though whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen.
Treka spied the familiar forms of some of the elders seated around the big homefire and watched as other circle members gathered around them. The main homefire was the meeting place for all stone circle events, so it made sense that its members would flock there to seek aid during an emergency. Not that anything of its kind had ever happened to them before, but Treka supposed that the others also were drawn to this place, looking for comfort and guidance from the elders or perhaps thinking to be saviors themselves.
She approached cautiously, wary of the intimidating scowls on the faces of the protectors who stood watching over the bent heads of the elders whispering amongst themselves. Treka felt her shoulders ease as she took in the sight of Su-Nami and Su-Rogna surrounded by so many of her family, the members of the stone circle. As she took her customary place on the ground behind the older members of her house, Treka couldn’t help but pick out who was missing and hoped they just hadn’t shown up yet. Speaking of missing…
Treka jumped up from her seat on the dirt packed ground, startling the others around her and hurriedly hopped over legs and arms until she was out of the now crowded homefire area. Picking up speed, she kept a careful eye on her surroundings as she bolted back towards the food shed. Her excitement at seeing everyone showing up around the homefire had caused her to forget about the younglings tucked safely away down below. A bellow that shook the ground brought her to a tumbling halt in front of a large fruit bush partially hiding the door of the food shed. Keeping crouched behind the bush as she righted herself, Treka peered through the branches at the splintered doorway. Little pieces of splintered wood was flying out of the widened opening and Treka heard the frantic scratching and cracking of the strangers claws on the floor as it tried to get to the children hiding below. Likely the only thing keeping them safe was that the stranger was at least twice the size of the opening into the cellar and despite its apparent strength, was struggling to pull apart the floor to make it wide enough.
A cracked floorboard the size of her forearm clattered through the ruined doorway, hitting Treka on the arm before landing at her feet. Grabbing it, Treka hurled it back through the doorway at the stranger’s bent back, at the same time letting out the scream that had been building from the back of her throat. And then she ran.
Treka knew without looking that the diversion had worked. She could feel the ground behind her shake with each pounding step the stranger took. Treka wove her way around bushes and cut across stone strewn gathering spaces, hoping the stranger’s bulk would slow them down. She ran without thinking towards the main homefire before veering sharply to the side, angling towards the Protector’s practice circle. Her mind raced with terrible options as her eyes searched frantically for a longslash, a crusher, any weapon, anything at all she might use to defend herself. Her eyes alighted on the throwing sharp, a weapon twice as tall as she was that the Protectors used to hurl at the lumbering trumpet beasts that were 3 times the size of the stranger still pounding the ground behind her.
Treka turned towards the throwing sharp and stretched out an arm just as a solid mass slammed into her side, knocking her halfway across the training circle. Images of sky brights bloomed behind her closed eyes. Blinking hard, Treka opened her eyes to see the sky swirling above her as pain bloomed from the back of her head. A mouth somewhere near her ear let out a wheezing, sticky huff as a dozen voices from somewhere far away cried out in unison. Treka tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t budge the weight from her chest. Wriggling just enough to tilt herself to the side, she managed to take in a breath rank with rotting vapors and then the world went black.
Writing on Tumblr, formatting wise, is so bizzar. Especially on mobile.
In word documents or other text editors, I write in larger paragraphs, ones more akin to an essay or book format. I do still break them up for scene transitions, dialogue, ect., but they're several sentences long, maybe half a page or more.
Here on Tumblr,it looks wrong. Even the above chunk looks too big.
Why?
Is it that writing styles adapted to this Tumblr style format and everyone else just copies it?
Is it that those posts with huge chunks of text are less popular and therefore not as circulated?
Is the broken up format easier to read or more aesthetically pleasing?
Just a weird thing I've noticed in my short time on this site. If anyone has anything to add, or if maybe I'm the only one who has noticed, let me know!
1. I’m your mailman, but when I drove up to your house you jumped into my car wearing chainmail and holding a potted plant and yelled, “Drive!”
2. I was trying to steal this painting and thought you were a security guard, but it turns out the uniform was disguise so that you could steal the same painting.
3. I hired you to fix my window while I was out, but when I got home you had replaced it with a stained glass depiction of grazing cows. I think I’ll keep it.
Inspired by the 3rd prompt because I'm a sucker for stained glass and cows. CW flirting, CW kissing
-----
"Thanks again Lisa. I really appreciate you comin' by on such short notice."
"Common now Gwen, you know I wouldn't miss a chance to come love on that sweet new pup of yours."
"Ha! She's goin' through her bite phase so I left some band-aids on the counter for ya, next to the cookies. And there's fresh milk in the fridge I just bottled this mornin'. And beers if ya want too, but don't go crackin' them open while you're puttin' the glass in. I wanna window I can see through, not some crookedy mess."
Gwen pointed a stern finger at Lisa, but her friend had already gone to start hauling tools out of her beat up truck. Leaning down towards her already packed bags, Gwen absentmindedly rummaged in one of them, pretending to be looking for something while instead she was looking at Lisa. Ever since Gwen moved here last summer and found herself living next door, albeit separated by a few miles, to the laid-back carpenter who was now grunting as she lifted a table saw single-handedly, Gwen had been entranced by the woman.
Lisa glanced over as though she could feel Gwen's stare and Gwen quickly ducked her head, wishing she'd left her hair down so it could help hide the blush in her cheeks.
Dusting her hands off with a couple of claps, Lisa ambled over to Gwen as she zipped up her bag and straightened.
"Well?" Said Lisa, putting her thumbs through her belt loops and looking for all the world like a postcard cowgirl, complete with boots, jeans, and a faded t-shirt. All that was missing was the hat, but Gwen knew that was likely resting on the dashboard inside Lisa's beloved pickup.
"Well," Gwen replied, her smile hitching up on one side, "looks like I'm all packed. Jerry'll be by sometime later to see to the evening feed for the animals and you'll see him around on and off to mind the girls while I'm gone so all you gotta worry about is yourself and that window. Oh and that little terror of a pup. She's crated in the laundry room right now but I'm sure she'll be anxious to play once she sees you."
Lisa grinned, making Gwen's heart speed up.
Clearing her throat, Gwen continued, "I'll be back in a few days and I'll have my phone on me if you need me. Numbers are on the fridge and there's leftovers in the freezer."
Lisa rolled her eyes, "Yes mom. Now get outta here I got work to do."
Gwen smacked her friend on the arm and Lisa just laughed before grabbing her and bringing her in for a quick hug.
"Go on now, you have fun at that convention of yours. Bring me back something fun."
It was Gwen's turn to roll her eyes, "I doubt a CPA convention will have anything fun, but I'll see what I can scrounge up."
Lisa let out a bark of laughter and slapped Gwen on the back. Gwen busied herself with putting her bags in her old sedan and getting the car started up, hoping to calm her beating heart and willing the blush to fade from her cheeks. Buckling in, Gwen rolled down the window and poked out her arm for a wave, calling out, "See you in a few days!"
--------
The conference hadn't been quite as boring as Gwen had expected, but she was still glad to be home. She hummed along to an old tune on the radio as she rolled slowly down her long dirt driveway with the windows rolled down, not even minding the dust kicked up by her tires as she soaked in the sounds of the birds and buzzing insects. It was good to be home!
She pulled up and parked on the side of Lisa's big truck which was blocking her view of the house. She popped the trunk and was yanking out her bags when she heard the screen door creak and bang shut, followed by the sounds of barking. Before she could get herself braced, 60 pounds of fur and slobber came flying at her, knocking her on her back onto her butt.
"Jackie! Jackie stop! Down!" Gwen cried out in between giggles as she tried to fend off the golden retriever currently trying to lick every inch of her face and wriggling like a furry tornadow. Half a minute more and Gwen felt the tongue and fur receed. Wiping off her face, she found herself looking up at a grinning Lisa who gripped Jackie by the dogs collar with one hand and reached out another to help pull Gwen to her feet.
"Thanks," Gwen said, surreptitiously wiping off the back of her jeans and failing to quell the rush of excitement she'd gotten looking into Lisa's eyes.
"No problem," Lisa said, grin still plastered on firmly. "You really oughtta have Daryl over to train this beast though. Cute as she is, she's still pretty wild and if ya aren't careful, she's liable to do some real harm someday."
"Yeah, you're right. Just hard to not think of her as the tiny ball of fluff she used to be when I got her."
"Anyway," Lisa said, letting the dog go now that she'd calmed down, "let's get you and your stuff inside and you can tell me all about your fancy conference in the city." Lisa housted a bag over her shoulder and ambled towards the house, Jackie trailing at her heels.
Gwen grinned to herself and shook her head. Grabbing the other bag, she followed suit and rounded the back of the truck towards the front porch.
Here eyes were busy watching Lisa walk so it took Gwen a moment to notice the new window. When she did, she dropped her bag in surprise.
"What in the world?" Gwen cried out, eyes flitting about the window at the front of the house, trying to take in all the details while her mouth fumbled for words.
The window had been repaired, in a way, just as Lisa had promised. What Gwen was having a hard time grasping was that it wasn't just a replacement of the window that had been broken, but instead in its place was a whole new creation. A work of art really. A work of stained glass art.
"Wait. Are those... cows?" Gwen muttered, having shuffled closer to the window to get a better look, bag lying forgotten in the dirt behind her.
Lisa appeared beside Gwen and pointed towards a corner.
"Yup, those are your girls, well some of them anyway."
Gwen's eyes followed Lisa's shifting finger as she pointed out more of the window's features. It was her farm, an interpretation of it anyway, laid out in stunning stained glass.
Gwen turned to Lisa, eyes wide and mouth agape, "This is- this is incredible! How the hell did you manage all this in just a weekend? Lisa, this-" Gwen lost her words and turned back towards the window as Lisa clapped her stunned friend on the back.
"Well, to be honest, I started on it a while back. All I did this weekend was put it in. You really like it?"
Gwen turned and looked at Lisa once more, surprised to see the blush on the other women's cheeks, hands twisting into each other in front of her like a shy school kid. God could this woman be any more amazing?
Gwen raised Lisa's tucked chin with a finger and looked her in the eyes.
"It's amazing, Lis. Thank you."
Apparently Lisa wasn't the only one full of surprises. Gwen found herself moving before she'd known she'd do it and in a heart beat her arms were around Lisa and their lips were pressed tight in a kiss. It was a long moment before the two women broke apart, both with red cheeks and matching grins.
Gwen bent to grab her bag with one hand and straightening, twined the other in one of Lisa's. The two women walked into the house side by side, letting the screen door bang shut behind them.
"Cows though?"
"Oh shut up."
----------
Whew that went on way longer than I thought!! Thanks @casualwriter for the fun prompt!
"Witch!" "Heathen!" "Burn her!" You watch with amusement as they begin lighting the pyre under you. The flames tickle at your feet bringing the familiar warmth with them. What fools they are to think they could actually burn a dragon with fire.
Idiots, all of them, using up the last of their precious fuel to burn an innocent- well, ok not completely innocent- woman, just so they could sleep better at night believing that they'd rid themselves of evil. Insolent fools! Did they not realize dragons can't be burned? And now they'd be miserable, shivering in their pathetic huts. Imbecils, every last one of them!
The warmth did feel nice though, Madrea admitted to herself. The winters in this abysmally backwards kingdom were always so brutally cold. It felt like ages since she'd been truly warm by dragon standards.
The flames rising up to lick at her cheeks also gave rise to a thought, "Maybe I should make it more of a habit to get caught if the whole burning-at-the-stake thing continues to be a trend. It's an easier way to get a free fire cleanse than trying to find enough fuel for one on my own." Madrea gave more consideration to the thought as she reached down to grab a handful of ash from the burned ropes that once bound her, rubbing its deliciously warm abrasiveness on her skin as the townspeople looked on in abject horror.
Not everything needs to be a full story, you know?
If you have just one or two scenes that you’re really excited about, you can just write those. You don’t have to create a full WIP to contain them if you don’t want.
You can create characters without putting them into a project, they can just exist.
You can worldbuild for a universe that you never write about.
If there’s a trope you really want to write, but you don’t have a project to put them in… You can just write the best parts of that trope on its own.
Even if you do have a story and there’s parts you don’t want to write, it’s okay to just write the parts that you’re excited about. You don’t need to write the other parts and make it a full story.
I feel like in writing, there’s a lot of emphasis put on completion and writing a full story.
Completion or a full story doesn’t always have to be the purpose or goal. It’s okay and wonderful to just let something exist on its own without anything else.
"So have you ever felt part of your life like, glitch sometimes?"
"Random question but I mean, probably? What do you mean by glitch though exactly?"
"I mean- you know how in video games like, sometimes your character will be walking and just fall through the ground for like a split second and then it's fine and just keeps walking like nothing happened? Or like when your mini map registers a bad guy in the distance and you go to kill it but when you get within a certain distance the dot on the map just... disappears, like the bad guy never existed?"
Haha yeah I mean like, I've never fallen through the ground or like, had a tree branch poke out of my head but yeah, I think I've had some random little life glitches. Why do you ask?"
"Because I think I'm one of them. A life glitch. Your glitch."
Ha ha ha Zane, just because you're weird doesn't make you a glitch."
"So what do you think?"
"What do you mean what do I think? I just told you you're not a glitch."
"Um Sarah, I asked about what you thought about grabbing pizza for dinner. What are you talking about, me being a glitch? That doesn't make any sense."
Hello! I've seen a few of the fancy introductions in the writeblr community and thought I might make one too, except without the pretty pictures and whatnot because I honestly do not know how.
I go by Luna and this is mainly my snippets blog where I save the bits and pieces of writing that pop in my head and won't go away until I've written them down somewhere. It's unlikely I'll ever do more with these, but maybe someday.
I'll post mostly my own writing and sprinkles of reblogs here and there along with original photos from my trips that inspire my imagination.
If you'd like, there's more, but I know long posts can be painful so I've added a cut. (I just figured out that’s a thing)
I follow a variety of blogs, mostly to have something cheerful to scroll through, and I 100% don't ever expect a follow back. I post here mostly as an online writing diary and never really expect anyone to read, let alone like anything I put here. It's just my online hoard of words.
Also please note that I'm what tumblr calls 'an Old' and am well past my schooling years so I try not to follow anyone underage as I don't want to seem creepy. Feel free to unfollow or block me if you are in anyway uncomfortable with me being Old.
I'm always down to chat with anyone who'd like to say hello, just know that I am often busy and rather scatterbrained.
Stories that get plopped here are often pantsed (made up on the fly without plotting or planning first, a term coined by NaNoWriMo) and may not head in any particular direction. Most will likely go unfinished. If they’re persistent enough, I might just churn them out here, updating as often as I can, likely unedited.
I write mostly fantasy and sci-fi, as that’s what I prefer to read. I’m not an accomplished author and I only write when the mood strikes and I have time, so it’s just a hobby and not so much a career goal.
I’ve rambled on enough so once again, hello writeblr community! *waves*
(2/21/21 This is an ongoing story, mostly unedited except for spelling, that I’ll update when I can. TW mild violence, TW brief dismemberment mention, TW mildly scary, TW mild gore)
Dazed from the tumble, Treka looked around to get her bearings and see what she’d tripped over. She saw the stuffed toy first, a misshapen likeness of a six-paw, one of the toys gifted to her youngest sister last storm season to help calm her from the intense noise and lights. Treka blinked hard as her gaze took in the small hand still wrapped around the toy. There was no arm attached. While Treka screamed some small part of her mind urged her to go find the rest of her sister. Her internal voice whispered that one hand lost was not so terrible and if she could just find her sister she could help her learn to live with only 3 hands, the way old Zuc did. It was this thought that quelled her scream and pushed her to her feet. She had to find her sister. She had to find her family and save them from whatever was out here before they all lost more than just a hand. Hesitating, Treka grabbed the six-paw toy, trembling as it pulled free of the small hand, and tucked it into her waistband as she turned back toward the big house.
Picking up her pace, she ran along the back wall and skidded around the corner towards the front of the big house and towards the shadowed figures running through the light cast by the homefires. It was still too dark to make out anyone’s features, but it was easy enough to discern from their size that the hulking shadows moving more slowly were not those of her family, but of strangers or strange creatures responsible for the screams that still split the night. Unconsciously reaching to rub the soft cloth of the six-paw toy at her waist, Treka crouched behind one of the bare fruit bushes and crept her way towards the sound of whimpers coming from just inside the front doorway of the big house. One of the giant strangers was blocking the entryway, but Treka caught a glimpse of some blue limbs lit by the glow of one of the light beasts, kept inside to provide light without the harsh smoke made by the home fires. The subtle pink tinge to the glow told Treka that this light beast must be Elan’s, a small one, just like her own, barely old enough to give off sufficient glow to make the journey from the sleep pods to the relieving rooms less scary in the dark of night. Treka had left her own light beast on her sleep pod, knowing it’s light would only draw the attention of the biting buzzers on her climb up and down the hill.
As the stranger in the doorway strained to push its bulk further inside the house, Treka’s third hand pulled out the slash from its sheath at her waist. She glanced at it briefly, wishing she’d thought to bring along a more substantial weapon than this small slash, only good for cutting stems of rough plants and poking at the palm-sized scale beasts that poached from the food shed. Wishes are as useful as biting buzzers, best to swat them aside. The favored saying of Teekat, the elder of the Beast-Minders, passed through Treka’s mind as she firmed her grip on the small slash and crept her way forward towards the stranger. She may not be of the Protectors, but she was of the Stone Circle and her mind was made up that she would do all she could to save her family.
Keeping herself low and as covered by the fruit bushes as she could, Treka lashed out at the strangers hind legs with her slash, feeling the thrill of a true strike at the same time as the jolt of horror as her slash stuck deep into the stranger and came free from her grip. The stranger whirled, smashing the doorway in its haste to find its attacker, letting out a deep, rumbling bellow of outrage. It must not have seen Treka crouched in the bushes because it heaved itself into a shambling run out towards the center homefire. Treka let out a small sigh of relief that it was at least gone for now and allowed herself a small smile knowing she’d managed to injure it, however minorly. She heard a gasp as she levered herself up to standing and peered through the ruined doorway into the house. She moved inside, allowing more of the outside homefire’s light to reach in, and saw first Elan’s glow beast and then the tear streaked faces of three of her youngest siblings. Elan was not among them. Treka’s mind raced as the three young ones swarmed her, jabbering on about the strangers and crying for their minders and their other siblings. Treka was torn between guiding these three to a safer place to hide from the strangers and going back out towards the main homefire circle to help the others and search for the rest of her family. She compromised. She led the three young ones out of the big house into the food shed and down into the below ground cold rooms where the roots and beast milk was stored. The young ones had likely been in their sleep pods when the strangers had attacked and had grabbed comfort blankets and a light beast when they’d decided to brave the walk to the front room to see what all the noise that had waken them was all about. Dressed in their sleep clothes and with blankets and a light beast, they’d be plenty warm down here until Treka or one of the others could come fetch them. After it was safe. After everyone else was safe.
The young ones had mostly calmed and were quite but for a few whimpers and sniffles, but as Treka kissed their heads and turned to go, one of the girls, Tibi, spoke up.
“They were trying to get the light beast. We protected it. We couldn’t let the stranger eat our light beast. It’s too little to be eaten. We had to save it!”
Treka stopped and turned, staring hard at the soft pink glowing beast nestled amongst the young ones like a beloved pet.
“The light beast? Why do you think it was after the light beast and not you? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know,” Tibi cried, “But when Tnuk ran towards the gathering room away from us, the stranger didn’t even follow him, but when I-” Tibi’s fourth-hand reached out to stroke the light beast as she caught her breath, “-I dropped the light beast and we ran after Tnuk but the stranger only looked at the light beast and almost grabbed it but I couldn’t let the light beast hurt it so I ran back and picked it up and it swiped at me and almost got me but I fell and Pall came and pulled me back to the wall but we were to scared to move cause the strangers have big long front limbs and it was making such scary noises and it was gonna eat the light beast but we wouldn’t let it!” The confession had come out at a rush, words running into one another in their effort to get out, and the strength of the little girl’s lunging hug at Treka’s front knees had nearly knocked them both over. This young one would truly make a fierce Protector some day, Treka thought, and then more soberly, if there is a someday. Deftly unlatching Tibi’s limbs from her own, Treka picked the girl up and put her back with her other siblings.
“I must go help the others and find the elders, they’ll know what to do about the strangers.” Pointing at each young one in turn, she continued, “You stay here and protect each other and the light beast. Don’t come above ground on your own, wait for someone to come get you. I can’t help the rest of the family if I’m busy worrying about you three.” Treka stared each one in the eyes and repeated, “Stay here, protect the light beast, don’t leave unless a Stone Circle member comes for you. Got it?”
All three nodded their heads solemnly and Treka gave each one a kiss once more, pushing the thought that it might be the last time from her mind.
@casualwriter tagging you in case you wanted to read more :)
Sometimes during storm season, when the elders make everyone cover the cages of the light beasts to hide them from the eaters, Treka would sneak out of the rock circle to go see the sky brights. The darkness without the glow of the home fires made clambering up the hill behind the big pond slow going, but it was worth the scrapes and bruises Treka collected. The view stretched on across the distance and only from here could she see all the different colors of the sky brights as they flashed, rending the horizon with jagged cuts, their echoing booms drowning out the sound of her own harsh breathing.
The hill Treka sat upon, legs hugged to her chest, was silent all around her. She marveled at the way the lights from the sky brights illuminated the patterns of cuts on her bright blue skin, sighing with wonder at how they made the flecks of her yellow blood shine gold. Even the buzzers were still and Treka liked to think the sky brights had entranced them all, all eyes and ears turned to watching the chaotic dance of lights as they passed across the horizon, none daring to move till the dance was over. The buzzers and beasts from fierce to foolish were her companions for the night and none would bother the other while the brights tore up the sky. Treka felt safer this night than any other, knowing none would harm her while the sky brights held their power. She was careful to time her leaving so that she'd make it back through the circle before the sky brights fully faded, knowing full well the chaos that heralded the end of the stillness.
Treka had been much smaller the first time the eaters had come. It had been her second storm season that she'd snuck out to the hill to watch the sky brights but the first that she had come home to screams. The home fires had still been lit back then, making her climb down the hill faster with their light, and the scene before her all the more gruesome. She'd come back through the stone circle and cut across the field where the beasts food was grown, following the sounds of her family's cries for help, fear pushing her faster. She was running headlong towards the back door of her family home, feet so sure of the path she'd traveled that she hadn't even realized she'd tripped until she rolled to a stop against the wall of the big house.
Pt. 2 here
(This is an ongoing store I’ll update as I can. Unedited except for spelling. This is just practice writing for fun, not anything I intend to publish. I’m still learning Tumblr so advanced apologies if anything is weird/wrong. I’m also still learning how to do trigger warnings so also apologies if I leave one out or get it wrong.)
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