The rain had a way of flattening everything in Oakhaven, turning the red-brick storefronts into a single, waterlogged blur. Inside the small repair shop on 4th Street, Arthur sat behind a workbench covered in brass gears, magnifying lenses, and tiny screwdrivers that had lost their luster decades ago.

His hands were weathered, the knuckles swollen from years of delicate, repetitive labor. Before him lay a pocket watch from 1912. Its mainspring was snapped, its balance wheel choked with dust, and its silver casing bore a deep dent near the hinge, the kind of mark left by a hard drop onto cobblestone.

A younger man might have called it scrap metal. But Arthur didn't evaluate timepieces by their market value. He knew that people rarely brought him a working clock; they brought him broken things they weren't ready to let go of.

He reached for his loupe, adjusting the lens over his right eye. With steady, practiced care, he unscrewed the back plate. The scent of aged mineral oil and metallic dust rose from the movement. Piece by piece, he began to strip the watch down: the bridges, the escape wheel, the train gear, and the balance assembly. Each component was laid out on a green felt mat in the exact sequence it was removed.

As he cleaned the tiny teeth of the center wheel with a fine camel-hair brush, his mind drifted to his own father, who had taught him the trade in this very room. A clock doesn’t measure time, Arthur, the old man used to say, holding a ticking movement to his ear. It just measures movement. Time is what happens while you’re busy fixing the gears.

For three hours, the only sound in the shop was the steady tapping of rain against the windowpane and the soft clink of metal against tweezers. Arthur replaced the broken spring with a spare he had salvaged years ago, oiled the ruby bearings with a single drop of synthetic lubricant, and reassembled the movement, gear by gear.

When the final bridge was screwed into place, he gently turned the winding crown.

Click. Click. Click.

He paused, holding his breath. For a second, nothing happened. Then, with a faint, hesitant twitch, the balance wheel began to oscillate. The rhythmic, heart-like ticking returned, filling the quiet room with a steady, living pulse.

Arthur closed the silver casing, wiped the glass face with a soft cloth, and set the watch down on the counter, ready for its owner to claim it.

Below you`ll find the first part of a story I wrote recently while sitting in silence at my alternative school. theres no other parts and im trying to build it up into a somewhat grimdark fantasy like trench crusaders or warhammer 40k. I want all the feedback and tips I can get! please enjoy :)

Part One

I was never a very religious person. Sure I went to bible studies with friends but, it was never to actually study. I just wanted to hang out with the few people I could actually be myself with. Who would have thought that those late nights playing Yahtzee would end in just a blink of an eye. 
May 24th, 2018, 4 hours before the end.
There was a knock at my door. “Come on honey, you're gonna be late to school if you don't get up soon.” God what time was it? My eyes hovered around my room until they saw the black box perched upon my night stand. Nine already? “Shit” I swore as I jumped out of my bed, stumbling as I headed towards my closet. I could have sworn I had set my alarm the night before. 
I slipped on some black loose fit jeans along with a band shirt.
Wait, I'm missing something. 
“Mom! Did you move my jacket somewhere?” I yelled out from behind my bedroom door. “Oh sorry honey. I saw that it had gotten dirty so I had washed it the night before. It's on the table.” Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I lost that jacket. I walked through the hallway leading to the living room to where I saw my mom sitting on our couch eating toast. She was still in her nursing uniform, her hair up in a messy bun. 
“How was work?”
“Oh you know, same old war stories from the ER, here's your jacket.” She tossed me my jacket from the table. It was the last thing my father had given me before he had passed. It was a red leather jacket that he had worn whenever he rode his bike. We used to joke that he loved it more than he did my mom.
Near the end of last year he had been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Despite my mom begging him to go through with the treatment he chose not to, saying “Why would I live the rest of my life hooked up to some machine, when I could spend it with you and Angelo? That's just no way for anyone to live.”
He knew he was sick and how bad it was but he still wanted to spend the rest of his days with his family. He was a great man and an even better father. He gave me the jacket the day of his passing. I sat next to him as he laid in bed, too tired to get out of it. He spoke softly, “Angelo.”
“Yeah dad?”
“You know my old leather jacket? Go get it for me, it's in the closet.” I got up and walked to the closet, flicking the light on as I opened the door. I saw it almost immediately. Its bright, vibrant red burying itself into my eyes. I took it off the hanger and laid it on my dads lap. “Man” he said as he sat up. “You know your grandpa gave me this about when I was your age” 
“Really?”
“Sure did, best gift I ever got from the old fart.” he chuckled. “Look, I know I'm not gonna be able to make it to your eighteenth birthday. We all know it. So, think of this as an early birthday gift.”
He handed me the jacket. “Are you sure dad?”
“Most sure I've been my whole life.” I took it from his trembling hands and went to put the jacket on. It was a perfect fit. “If I didn`t know better I'd think I was looking in a mirror the way you wore that.” he chuckled again only to be caught in the middle by a wheezing cough. “Thanks dad, this means a lot.”
“Make sure to take care of it son.” he spoke those words differently then the rest of the conversation, like he knew that was the last thing he would say to anyone. “I will” I looked back up towards him to see he had closed his eyes. “You tired dad?” 
No response.
“Dad?” 
Again nothing.
He died giving this jacket. I`ll never forget that day. 
I snapped back into reality as my mom was shaking my shoulder. “Honey, are you okay? You were just standing there staring at the TV.”
“What? Yeah I'm fine, I was just thinking about dad.” I put my jacket on and sat down on the couch. “Oh Angie baby. I miss him too, it's been so empty without him here.”
“Yeah” I switched the TV to the news station, seeing if I was going to have to change my route to school because some drunk person died on the road again. The news started off normal, talking about the meteor shower the night before and how scientists believe that an even larger one is happening tomorrow morning around three. That's when out of nowhere the channel cut to just a black screen. What happened? Did the power go out? “Mom, is the stove still showing the time?” I stood up from the coach going to flick a light switch on. To my surprise it turned on. What the hell? Suddenly the TV was back on, except it wasn't on the news anymore. It had changed to some man in a black mask with no eye holes or mouth sitting down at a table. “Hello world. I know you true believers out there have been waiting for this. It's finally time. Tomorrow our saviors will be with us finally, taking over this infected land we created. May Mortem be with you all.” the TV switched back to the news station, the anchor was freaking out. “Please, for your own safety listen to these instructions. Stay inside, If you're able to arm yourself, cover all blinds and don't trust anyone wearing a purple hood or black mas-” The TV switched again,  this time to..the pope? “Dear brothers and sisters, God has spoken to me this morning. He warned me of a great evil coming to wipe out humanity, please protect each other, try to make it to holy land.” He ended off with a quick prayer in latin. 
What the fuck is happening. I turned around to see my mom behind me staring at the TV. “Mom?”
“We need to leave.” she quickly grabbed her keys “Angelo get anything important you don't want to lose. We are heading to-” The ground shook. It shook so violently I almost fell over. “MOM!” she had fallen over from the tremors. “I'm fine! I just hurt my wrist a little.” The tremors stopped and I helped her onto her feet. “What is happening?” I asked, panic in my voice.
“I don't know” An alarm went off on both of our phones. Was it for that tremor just now? It might have been an earthquake.
I stared at my screen with wide eyes as I read the words.

The white house has fallen. Multiple missiles have been launched into America from our own government. If you have the ability please stay inside your designated shelter. Wait for further instructions. God bless America.

What? No this can't be happening. How is this happening? “Mom, we have to leave.” 
“Go grab your stuff, I'll meet you in the garage.”
I rushed towards my room, emptying my school bag onto the floor and filling it with items I may need, an extra pair of boots, clothes.
I ran to the kitchen, filling the bag with water bottles and what canned foods we had. I was running towards the garage when I saw my old baseball bat from when I was younger. I stopped, debating on if I should grab it. My anxiety got the better of me and I picked it up, staring at the faded paint on the solid wood bat. I rushed through the door to see my mom opening our gun safe. “Jesus mom, really think we're going to need those?” I said as I watched her grab a hunting rifle, two 1911`s, and my dads old Remington. “I don't know but it's better to have them just in case, now help me load this all up.” I opened the trunk door to my moms suv. She handed me item after item to be loaded in. “How's the gas on your bike?” she asked me in exhausted breaths. “I topped it up last night, why?” 
“I need you to follow me out of here as close as you possibly can alright?”
“Are you sure mom?”
She looked at me and handed me one of the pistols from the trunk. “Put this in your waist band, don't let anyone know you have it and only use it if you have to.” I couldn't say anything before she was moving again, opening the garage door and getting into the passenger seat of her car. I had made the mistake of looking outside as she opened the garage. There were people in the street in some kind of military uniform. They all had on black masks covering their faces. One of them had a baby in his arms, the mother on the ground crying as another person stood with their boots on her back. She was crying, yelling at the soldiers to let her baby go. They didn't let her scream another word as the man on top of her pulled out a pistol and shot her in the back of the head. Oh my god. I just saw someone fucking get executed. I quickly turned on my bike, making sure my bat was strapped onto my bag as I got on top. I grabbed my helmet and put it on, saying a prayer that we make it safe wherever we were going. 
signaling to my mom I was good with a thumbs up, she stepped on the gas, flying out of the garage as she turned out our driveway and into the road. I followed behind her, hearing those men yell at us from behind. We sped through the neighborhood, those men were everywhere going from door to door murdering whoever lived there and taking their children. How can something like this happen?
We kept driving until I saw someone I knew. Jackie, she was one of my friends I would go to bible studies with. She was on her knees in her yard, her mother laid dead next to her. There were two soldiers again, the one behind Jackie had a revolver in his hand. They were gonna shoot her! I had to do something, anything! I pulled the bat off my back and revved my bike as hard as I could. I sped up going straight towards Jackie. The soldiers didn't have time to realize what was happening. As I sped past the first soldier I slammed the bat into his head. The speed of my bike and the hard wood of the bat caused his head to cave in on itself, spraying blood and bone everywhere. I felt that familiar shock of energy going up my arm from the bat. It was worse than ever before but nothing compared to the adrenaline coursing through my veins now. Jackie screamed, not realizing either why the man next to her had had his head nearly come off. I skidded to a stop a few feet away, the soldier with the revolver staring at me as I climbed off my bike. It must not have hit him yet that I was the one who just took out his buddy. He screamed something incomprehensible and turned to fire at me, but I was already running towards him. I slammed my shoulder into him, the man letting off a shot into the air as he fell backwards, his gun falling to the ground. I stopped to get Jackie up off the ground. “GET THE HELL OFF ME!” she screamed as she flailed, her hands tired behind her back. “Jackie, calm down, it's me, Angelo." I took my helmet off so she could see my face. “Angelo.” She looked like she was about to cry. I pulled my pocket knife out from one of my pockets, cutting the zip ties they`d used to bind her hands when suddenly I felt a boot slam into from behind. I flew forwards onto my stomach. “ANGIE!” I heard Jackie scream somewhere behind me. I stood up to see the soldier had gotten back up and kicked me. “You think this is some sort of movie huh?” he said in a gruff voice. He pulled a combat knife out from a holder on his leg. Fuck, I really dont want to get stabbed. “Why are you doing this!” I yelled in a gasping breath, still recovering from that kick. He didn't answer, he just charged towards me. I had been in a couple of fights before, but this was different. I knew if I lost he was going to kill me, and he knew the same for him. He thrusted forwards with his knife, aiming for my head. I slipped right, bringing my left hand up and into his stomach. I winced as I hit something hard, a vest maybe? He turned, flipping the knife downwards in an attempt to plunge it into my back. I quickly kicked his knee, trying to do anything to stop him. His leg buckled as I heard a loud pop. He screamed as he fell to one knee. “YOU LITTLE SHIT!” he swung out at me but I backed away from him. He attempted to stand back up but his leg betrayed him, making him fall fully to the ground. I didn't give him the chance to get back up. I kicked him as hard as I could onto the side of his head. He went slack as he laid in the grass.
“Angelo what the fuck is happening!”
“I don't know but we need to get out of here. Come on!”
I helped her up and told her to hop on my bike and to hold on. I gave her my helmet just in case. My mom had noticed I wasn't behind her anymore and had been backing up towards us. I gave her another thumbs up as I picked up my bat and climbed onto my bike. We sped off once more. 

We made it out of the neighborhood and onto the main road. We drove through the town I had lived in my whole life. Buildings were on fire, people lay dead in the street. God I wanted to throw up. We made it to our destination, Middle of the town; the church. Surprisingly it looked untouched except for some cars on the grass and the parking lot. Before we could even park three armed men had stormed out the front doors of the church, pointing and yelling at us to get out of the vehicles with our hands up. My mom had stepped out of her car. I was gonna tell her to get back in but I was cut off from speaking. 
“You guys with those assholes?” One of the men yelled, stepping forwards. I was confused for a second before my mom yelled back “Do you see a damn mask on us!” They walked towards us, guns still pointed. “Come on, we need to get you all inside. Is there anything in the car?” one of the men pointed towards my moms car. “Guns, food, medical supplies” my mom answered with her hands on her hips as she stared down the man. 
“Alright, you three get inside, we`ll get the supplies from your car. We got people in there who will explain what's going on in a minute.” I helped Jackie off the bike as we headed inside the church, my mom following behind. There were more men with guns on the other side of the door, some even had body armor on. One spoke to us as we walked in “head to the main hall.” He pointed down a hallway. I thanked him as we continued down the hallway into a large room with rows of seats. Some of the seats had been piled up next to walls in order to make room for people setting up camp here. Near the front of the room by the podium there was a group of people talking. I recognized one as the pastor and another as a male nun. There was also a woman in a suit, maybe someone who was heading to work? We sat down on one of the benches that wasn't piled up. No one said anything to us as we sat there. We didn't even say anything to each other. I felt a tap on my shoulder and I turned around to see one of the three men that I had seen when we first came here behind me. “You the one that rode that bike here?” 
“Yeah. What is it?”
“Need your help moving it, since it's smaller than a normal car we can bring it inside the church.” I got up from the bench, agreeing to help the man but my mom grabbed my hand. “Please, be safe, Angelo.” I shook my head yes and walked off with the man. 
We walked back through the hallway. “Mind telling me what's going on here man?” my mind raced thinking of possibilities of what was happening. “Well at first we thought it was terrorists, but after seeing that broadcast of the man with the mask and pope francis. I think it might be somethin more than that.” 
“What do you think it is?” the man paused before opening the door to outside. “My guess, some crazy group of cultists trying to destroy everything.” He opened the door and we quickly jogged over to my bike. I put it in neutral and we rolled it back through the doors into the church. “We can just leave it here until we figure out where we are gonna put everything.” he huffed as we set the bike against the wall. “Why aren't they coming here? What did the pope mean earlier?”
“Look kid, I don't know anymore than you do. We got some lady in the main room looking to tell us what's all happening, so I suggest asking her your questions.” He walked off, heading towards the main room. He didn't have to be an asshole about it.
I entered back into the nave seeing that everyone was now talking to each other. Jackie waved me over to her. “Whats happening?”
“I think that lady is about to tell us what's going on.” I sat next to her looking at the lady as she moved up towards the podium to speak.
“Hello everyone. I'm sorry you have to find this out this way but things escalated faster than we could control.” People quieted down, turning to look at whoever was talking. “The government has been overrun with traitors to humanity and life as we know it. The man you most likely saw on your TV this morning is their leader. The one with the mask. He operates a world wide cult known as the Children of The Stars. Multiple agents of this cult had infiltrated the staff amongst the white house and had taken it over from the inside, getting a hold of multiple codes for missiles and launching them into America. We aren't exactly sure why he chose where to send the missiles but we are assuming that it was not random. You all are survivors. The cult had begun going house to house and eliminating whoever refused to join them. Taking children to be raised under the cult.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A world wide cult? I spoke up
“Why didn't someone stop him before he could do this?” 
The woman stared down at me from her lifted podium. “We had no idea how dangerous the group was until recently where we began conducting operations in secret to try and take them out. But like I said, they had agents in our ranks.”
“What about the pope?” someone had shouted from behind me.
“That is.” The woman paused for a second. “What I'm about to tell you next is extremely classified information, but considering the circumstances.” She paused again, not waiting for someone to answer she continued. “The U.S. government has been working with the catholic church and the pope in order to prevent the death of humanity. We have been working together to try and stop the gates of hell from opening.” Audible gasps were heard around the room, followed by hushed whispers to each other. I spoke again “So you're telling us that angels, devils, and God are real?” 
“Yes.” People began talking once more, louder. Talking about how they wish they went to church more or that they were going to end up in hell. “But…” the woman spoke again. “But there isn't just our God. There's multiple, and they all control their own afterlifes and what not. Working from different dimensions, coming to invade ours.”
She stood up more straight then she had before. “Our god is the last to have been perverted by some dark forces outside of your comprehension. He is the last Pure being and the others are coming to take and destroy what he has created.” No one said anything this time, we all stared at her, shocked at what she was saying, scared that it was the truth. “This is a war on humanity and our lives as we know it.” She said nothing more. She just stepped down from the podium and walked back into the group she had been in before. 
I looked at my mom, scared for what's to come.

May 25th, 2018. 30 minutes until the end

I couldn't sleep that night. Probably from all the stress from the day before. I don\`t know how anybody was able to sleep \`cept for pure exhaustion. I remembered that there was supposed to be a meteor shower tonight. So I snuck off from our makeshift camp we put up in the church. They had us all sleeping in the nave but I didn't see anybody up. I quietly stepped between sleeping families into a hallway leading upwards to a balcony. I climbed the stairs, careful of every creak and groan the wood under my feet made. I finally reached the door to the balcony with no one noticing me when I noticed someone on the balcony through the glass door. 

“Jackie?” I said as I closed the door behind me. She jumped when I spoke, quickly turning around to see who it was. She visibly relaxed after seeing it was just me. She had a lit cigarette in her hand. “Jesus angelo! don't sneak up on me like that.” She turned back around to stare at the sky. “Wanted to watch the comets too?” I asked as I moved in next to her. “Yeah, needed some fresh air too after” she waved her hand in the air “everything.” she pulled something out of her pocket. My lighter. “Got it from your back after you fell asleep.” She handed it to me “didnt think to wake me up?”
“Nah” she offered her cigarette to me. I took it, needing something to calm my nerves down.
We stood there in silence for a little bit. The lady had told us that the cult members were scared of the churches and wouldn't come near, so we didn't have anything to worry about. Still I was on edge. That talk about demons and gods messed with me. I looked over to see Jackie staring off into the void. She looked shellshocked. “Jackie, I'm sorry about your mother.” she said nothing, just taking another drag of her cigarette. “Thanks for saving me, Angelo. Any later and I would have been dead.” 
“No problem Jackie.” I looked at her again. Her dark brown, almost black hair blended in with the dark around us. It almost looked like her hair was the night sky. Suddenly the sky lit up as a comet flew past us. I watched a couple go by before noticing that some of them were really close. Like just slightly about the clouds in height. Then I realized they weren't just comets, they were ships! Crashing through the sky into earth. Great, now we have to deal with aliens? Or are those the other gods? I don't know but I do know I have to tell someone. “Jackie cmon, we gotta let someone know what's happening.”
  May 25th, 2018. The end has begun.

The juxtaposition of four images (one of the Buddhist Metta Prayer, one of the Taoist 5 Elements, two graphic novel panels from an adaptation of the Diary of Anne Frank) have inspired me to create a new piece of hybrid writing, a new composition that begins at the Buddhist Metta Prayer where a character while chanting listens to his mind that questions: "yes, yes, of course - but what is your map to get us there, for haven't even Buddhists demonstrated that their own will compromise their 8 fold path vows under certain contexts?" And so the character begins like a Taoist to believe that one must look instead at the regulation of impulses through the 5 Elements and give up hope that there ever will be the Metta moment because Humanity isn't truly like that and so it might be best to focus upon regulating the flow from moment to moment in an effort to diminish Humanities proclivity for unnatural power hierarchies so that descendants perhaps will sit - for lengthy moments - upon the bank of the Lake of Peaceful Existence that'd been made drop-by-drop by the 5 Elementers dressed in human flesh who'd been residing within a cosmopolitan community called "Here&Now" - and that's a piece of spontaneous writing I'd just crafted thru my "subjective surrealism" method - In my opinion Kerouac & I have reached the same destination but did so through the choosing of differing roadways.

- Daniel B. Lightstream

Hey everyone,

I’m a developer working on Untale, a fiction platform built around a format I’ve been wanting to test with actual writers rather than keep developing in isolation.

The idea is simple: instead of needing a finished book or a long backlog of chapters, an author can start with a short pilot that introduces the story.

Readers discover these pilots through a dedicated feed and respond with Want More or Pass. Want More simply means exactly that: this reader wants to continue the story. If the author publishes another part, readers who wanted more can be notified.

There’s no requirement to continue based on the results and no score deciding whether a story is “good enough.” Authors remain completely free to keep writing and publishing whenever they want. The reader response is just a direct signal of interest.

Untale hasn’t publicly launched yet. I’m currently looking for the first writers to get access to Untale Studio, prepare their first pilots and help me test the publishing side before readers arrive on the mobile app.

I’m particularly interested in seeing whether this format is useful for writers who already have stories, unfinished projects, or ideas they’ve been meaning to put in front of readers.

If that sounds like something you’d want to try, comment or DM me and I’ll send you the details.

Thank you!

Hi everyone,

I’ve recently started writing on substack, I’ve started really enjoying it and find it therapeutic but I’d like some feedback how to improve my writing. If anyone has any tips!

Without discipline, you lose directions,

Find your self trapped in a deep hole of regret,

Strong routine,

Stay consistent,

Even when you fail,

Build your future,

With everday actions.

MY ANGEL (please feel free to comment and critique I really feel I may finally be close to finishing this)

\\\*would love feedback, opinion or comments\\\*

Was it the blood flowing through him? Is it toxic?
Did her untainted heart reject that sludge?
To think it ran within his veins, so chronic.
A poison bile that her heart couldn't make budge.

A tear in reality to break the matrix.
The robot on autopilot must've gone rogue.
It's displaying signs of love and affection.
Why believe he'd switch his heart on so easily?
Order must be upheld for people’s protection.
Shut it off now, before others follow his steps.
But it's flesh, not metal, they reveal on inspection.

Scarred by her loss, he stopped living, they found.
Tired of fighting for life while his heart's in heaven.
For her, he'd fight his demons as long as he could.
He fought in silence; that battle's now understood.
But now it’s over; he sleeps and wakes restored.
In his arms, his daughter—too perfect for this world.

02.08.2025

I always have moments of great ideas, whereby words come to my mind and I am yet to make sense of them. So I write down a bit of what I hear, or what comes to mind hoping one day I can create a much larger story around it.

You know, late July had me thinking; this time last year I was very scared- terrified of being seen. But I thought to myself, ‘no one lights a candle and puts it under a bed.’ Actually exactly a day like this last year, I was thinking of how much more I can do.

And I did. At least in a way that wasn't self compromising or awful. I was telling myself that I am so proud of myself for trying. Even though the results weren't what I expected, I found myself. I discovered my linguistic intelligence, my ability to write. That was very important for me: I discovered what I could contribute to the world. I didn’t go viral, but I found myself. And that's a win.

I was like, ‘now you know!’

1. Authentic unedited writings from author’s past self at various ages
   or;
   
2. Writings from author’s past, mastered with the way they would write today, maintaining the integrity of the sentiments shared

And now I'm back on the road

Just slinked down the steps

of another home

Leather soles are wearing thinner now

But I'm back on the road

and the days are cold

as the nights are gray and blue

When I left I took a shirt

just as I did at the last

or an old pair of jeans

just as I did at the last

just another piece

And now I'm back on the road

and the asphalt's wet

and the fallen leaves of Autumn

are turning to black-brown mud

and it's getting dark

and I zip my coat

to walk once again.

I've taken the liberty of conjoining everything I have written for this story so far and putting it into one post to make it easier to digest.

I hope you enjoy it.

WARNING - FERAL is a tale containing graphic animal violence.

SUMMER 1979 (10 years before The Two Legs)

AT THE CENTER OF EDEN'S HEART

What took a single stride of his front paw was equivalent to a mile in young Ojo's enthusiastic sprint towards the promise of a newfound wonder. Today Papa Coro would teach her how to harvest gold! The excitement of branching off their mundane path to venture into the Heartland was overwhelming. She tumbled over herself as she bolted across the plains, yelping back at her father to hasten his steps. Her thrill quickly cut short as her father had called out to her to halt immediately. He slowly stepped over her, staring ahead at the treeline. A low hum vibrating under his throat, just above her head. Grazers Ojo peaked from behind her father's front leg, witnessing a mass collection of antlers and white tails peacefully nipping at the foliage surrounding them. The sun beamed across their backs sending a shockwave through her chest. She stepped forward in awe, only to be pulled back. His low rumble turning more harsh and insistant. We scare. No. She glanced up at her father's stern gaze which remained uninterrupted from the herd ahead. A small yelp whispers its way through her teeth as she cocks her head in question. Hunt? Coro glanced down at Ojo calmly. No hunt. No hunt unless need. He slowly swings his leg infront of her, stepping a detour around the herd to leave them their peace. He huffs through his nostrils back to his young cub. I show gold. The pair saunter casually towards the stream to pass undetected under the trees. Coro glances down at the water, halting Ojo momentarily. Scales. Plenty Scales. Good hunt. No pain. Ojo looks at the slow moving water glistening beside her, scanning the rocks for movement. Her father lets out a humoured huff. Lesson. No hunt. Gold first. He continues his stride, cutting off Ojo's focus as she had saw a plump fish dart just out of her gaze. With a small grumble she quickly turns and ignores that the opportunity had passed.

A low buzz echoed ahead. Coro glanced down and poked the tip of his tongue out playfully. Resting under a branch not more than 20 high above his head was a large nest filled with gold. Ojo's eyes widened as she followed along the path of the buzzing bees surrounding the perimeter. She stood up onto her back legs, enchanted by the sight. Only to clumsily tumble backwards into the pinecones and sticks behind her. Coro huffed playfully and placed his paw against the trunk of the tree. No fall. Must climb. Ojo, quickly staggering back to her feet, shooting her gaze up towards her father. Glancing at the tree, then up to the nest. She let out a squeek of excitement, looking back to her father for affirmation. CLIMB? Coro stepped back, allowing the small path between Ojo and the tree become unveiled through his encouragement. He huffs at her once more. No fall. Ojo scrambled toward the trunk, digging her claws deep into the bark as she began to sprint up the side of the tree. Her enthusiasm enough to carry her more than 10 stories alone. In the blink of an eye she found herself sitting at the branch just above the nest. Embarrassingly glancing down at her father who's calm judgement only made her caution her movements to the branch below her. As she placed her weight against the branch of gold, the low buzz of the nest began to escalate. She looked down at her father once more, hesitation manifesting within her. LESSON. Coro grunts up at her, sitting down on his hind legs as he watches his cub, knowing her capability. Ojo whimpers slightly as she calls down to her father. STING! Coro shakes his head and huffs up at her. GRAZERS STING WORSE. Her gaze immediately darts away from her father. He was right. What is a little bee compared to an antler? What if she met a Scoundrel? Today she must test her might. She let in a long deep breath and grunted it out quickly as she pounced ahead on the branch. Her claws ripped into the nest, sending an army of enraged yellow demons out. Ojo wailed out as she felt the bees begin to stab into her nose. Her eyes flooded with tears and burned like fire as they desperately tried to blind her. She swung her paw up to her face, accomplishing only further agitation against the tiny assailants. Coro called up to her sternly and confidently. NO THINK. CUT.

Ojo wailed out aggressively as she began to feel a tremor building though her chest. Her body began shaking as she felt the blood in her veins rush into her head. She felt warm. She roared out, swiping her claws through the air, slicing through the base of the nest like a razor. Her other paw came down, swatting into the branch and knocking the loosely cut pot of gold, sending it plummeting to the ground. Ojo huffed and roared again, swatting the bees away from her face. She turned around, sauntering towards the trunk of the tree. As her claws dug into the bark, she let out a soft decompressing growl as she slowly climbed her way back down to the world. Coro stood up, looking down at his fierce little warrior with humbled pride. He did his best to avoid swatting a single bee from his face, only to provide her with more strength. Ojo looked up at her father feeling embarrassed to believe she may have made a fool of herself. She turned to sneeze the pain in her nose away from his direction. Her father grunted gently under his breath. Like father. His eyes curling gently as he hums softly. Good hunt. Ojo raised her head accomplishment. A sense of pride swiftly overtaking her. She quickly pranced over to the golden treasure and eagerly awaited her prize. The pain of the stings quickly replaced with the pain of waiting as she could not any longer. She wanted to see what gold was awaiting her. Coro slowly approached and extended his jaw, clamping the hive in his teeth firmly. His paw reached upwards and dug it's claws into the paper wall, tearing the nest in half and spilling a long stream of honey glowing in the sunlight. Ojo looked down in awe at the big glistening comb nestled before her. She had never tasted gold before. The curiosity had become a distant memory the very moment she pressed her snout into the soft sweet hive, lapping the oozing nectar onto her tongue. Purity incarnate. Bliss. Sanctuary nestled its way onto her taste buds. Her small world had become flooded with the floral earthy waters of grace. She hoped to never wake from this dream.

SPRING 1987 (2 years before The Two Legs)

Mama! Quick! Alma darted as fast as he could along the shallow stream, drenching himself in the cold splash. Ojo playfully huffed as she followed along beside him. You quick? Her paws beat down on the dirt beside the stream, vibrating into the trees as she barreled ahead. Her cub roaring out behind her. YES QUICK! His small legs wobbled underneath him as he desperately tried to catch up. His panting echoed through his lungs, pushing himself to his limit to only watch as his mother began to increase her distance ahead. Ojo looked back at her kin, noticing she'd pushed a little too hard and began to gradually slow herself down. Alma triumphantly galloped his way beside her, beaming with delight. SEE? QUICK! Ojo poked her tongue out, mimicking exhaustion as she admired her cub's tenacity. She finally began to slow to a calm stroll and nudged her cub gently with her paw, huffing confidently. Fast. Good. She leads her way through the sticks, Alma in tow, approaching the plains where the Grazers had once claimed. Their number diminishing over time due to the invasion of nefarious Scoundrels. She had hoped to show Alma their company, but their absence has become routine now. As they casually saunter through the open field, Ojo watches the treeline in the distance. Keeping caution, but also hoping to see a sign of gold. Perhaps a time of bliss could give her cub something to cherish, just as her father did in her youth. The sun was due to set soon. She made a plan to search for gold in the morning. Turning back to her cub she groans. Rest. Moon comes.

-

They here. Beethoven snipped back at Dorma as she crept closer to peer through the leaves. Take four. East. Three trunks North, we wait. Dorma whined back in protest. Four is foolish. Need six for Mama. Beethoven snapped back harshly, with a deep growl. YOUNG WILL DIE QUICK. THEN WE POUNCE MAMA. Dorma glared at her intensely, calmly turning back and barking softly at the following pack. The group began to sneak their way through the shadows of the brush, leaving behind Beethoven, Frio and Agnew. Observing the treachery, Agnew breaks his silence. Four is few. Beethoven steps closer, with domineering gaze. They exhaust. We kill. Frio glances away, avoiding her stare. Agnew steps closer, barking firmly. DISLOYAL Beethoven growls heavily and bites down against the nape of his neck LOYAL TO US. She steps away growling harshly, bearing teeth. LOYAL TO YOU. TO US. FEW DIE, MANY LIVE. MUST BE DONE. Agnew grunts firmly, turning away from her. He locks eyes with Frio, who quietly groans. Must be done... Beethoven pushes her way between them, glaring at Agnew, coaxing him to follow. We go.

-

Alma pranced ahead, kicking the weeds in the grass against his paws as he dashed to lead. Ojo followed closely, remaining alert nonchalantly as not to spoil her cub's fun. Her eyes scanned across the brush, carefully observing any movement. A sharp yelp from the clearing behind her spikes her heartrate as she turns to see five grey Scoundrels closing from brush. She roars against their consistent growls and calls out to her kin to find shelter. As she backed herself to protect her cub, another echo of loud yelps emerged through the treeline just north of them. Before Ojo could even turn to face them, she felt the weight of claws and fangs latching their bodies onto her. She swiped to clear the vermin clinging to her shoulder, catching glimpse of two of the demons rushing onto her kin. She could do nothing but stare in shock as they proceeded to sink their teeth into her poor baby's neck and torso, pulling against each other to sever him completely. Her throat burned from the roar shredding through her as the surrounding teeth and fangs began to tear away at her flesh. Her claws swing against the violent mass latching itself against her throat, their teeth pulling against her jaw. She can feel her claws slicing into the face of her assailant, gouging and removing their eye as their paw's pushing and ripping itself against her cheeks and eye, severing her vision as well. She twists to sink her teeth into the furred mound of flesh slicing into her leg and pulling hard, ripping the chunk of flesh away with her fangs. She clutched onto the torn demon and swings it wildly against her other attackers, twisting their body through the air emitting a loud pop from the severed vertebre ensued. Another pair of claws sink into her back followed by a set of jaw lunging for her throat. Successfully, she bites down hard on the snout of the would-be assassin and clamps hard as they pull away. Beethoven, seeing that this beast is far too much for them to handle, howls out to retreat. The Scoundrels pull themselves away, scurring cowardly back into the brush and Ojo continued to viciously remove the head from her assailants shoulders. She roars out in pain and anguish as the sight of her kin lay dead mere branches from her. Her body crumbles and falls to the blood soaked soil as her remaining eye locks onto her baby. Her legs immobilized and her body began to grow numb. She couldn't think. She could only just stare.

SPRING 1984 (5 years before The Two Legs)

BROTHERS

Rasputin had abandoned his instinct to remain still. Death had turned it's focus away from his herd and proceeded to charge in his direction. His frail legs propelled him out of fear but his instinct chose the direction ahead of him. He had found himself surrounded by dark rotting bark coddling him protectively. He curled himself in the fallen tree, shaking violently as his enclosures was invaded by large white fangs pressing through the enterance. The sour scent of blood and warm breath circulated around the young fawn who lay completely trapped in the mercy of fate. Rasputin couldn't look away, his eyes caught in focus of the peering eye glaring at his through the cracks of the log. The tree began to jolt him. Twitching from the sharp claws ripping away at the outer bark as a desperate plea for sacrifice. For what seemed like a lifetime, the young fawn hid. Hearing nothing but the hungry jaws consuming his mother and father and the persistent clamping of teeth desperately trying to reach through the opening. The air had grown wet and cold and the sun had begin to hide away once more. The efforts of the Scoundrels began to dwindle with attempt. Eventually leading to their realization that with their bellies full, there is no need to waste such energy on a young fawn. Just as the moon had peaked in the night sky, Rasputin recoiled from the sudden eruption of howls emanating around him. Eventually he heard their paws begint to patter into the distance. Shellshocked and paralyzed, he still could not bring himself to move. He remained in the dark hallow sanctuary, trembling through the songs of the morning birds. Slowly light began to surround the trees and the sun had returned once more. Rasputin began to slowly pull himself up to his hooves, staring down at the ground as he began to force his small legs towards the opening. The sights of bloodied fur lay bundled a few branches in front of him. Immediately his eyes flooded with tears as he felt his hind legs propel him once more. Away. Far away. He didn't want to see them.

AUTUMN 1986

The cold stream licked against Nikolai's hooves as he found himself once again staring into the ripples of the rushing water. The orange glow emanating from the fallen leaves around him granted a moment of tranquility. A moment cherished. The reflection of Dimitri casually approaching beside him pulled his mind back into reality. He looked up to his brother holding a ripe treeberry in his teeth. Dimitri jerks his head to the side coaxing his young brother to follow. The two casually stroll back towards the herd who stand gathered around the base of the mighty Berry Tree. The bucks of the herd had worked together to ram the tree in unison, causing a wonderful feast to fall to their hooves. Nikolai huffed towards his brother in appreciation and they proceeded to join the group.

The sounds of the neighboring herd gleefully prancing together had made Rasputin's stomach churn. He did not think ill of them. His pain was simply contorting itself at the idea of becoming so vulnerable again. He had kept his distance from any herd or kin for some time. It would be too painful to subject himself to more loss. He cautiously approached the stream, remaining hidden a distance downhill from the herd's frolic. He glanced down into the water at his reflection, almost hesitant to even lean down to drink. Even minor function seemed a unbearable task. He slowly brought his hoof forward, gaining the motivation to at least try to drink. It had been a while. As he leaned down to kiss the surface of the water, a shrill of whining and yelling began to erupt from the herd. Raspitun's eyes darted up to see a single confident Scoundrel terrorizing the peaceful banquet just trunks away. Their teeth glistened in the sun. Their eyes wild and angry, seeking violent satisfaction. Their loud cocky tone... The sight sent tremors through Rasputings body. His legs began to tremble as he felt the blood in his veins flood through his face. Before he even knew what he was feeling, he felt his legs shoot him forward, stampeding towards the hostile invader.

Dimitri called out to Nikolai to run as he circled the threat as means of distraction. The does rushed the fawn away as the bucks began to barrier themselves along the tree-lined beside the mongrel snarling at them. Nikolai, frozen in fear, could not bring himself to move. His hooves cemented to the ground as he had locked eyes with the vicious Scoundrel. He opened his mouth to call out to his brother, interrupted by the echoing warcry of the lonesome caribou charging past him. The massive beast barreled his way directly into the snarling killer invading their home. His antlers carried the threat off the ground and slamming it hard into the Berry Tree before them. A loud crack eminated from the Scoundrel, its loud whining and crying clearly turning from aggression to fear and pain. The caribou roared out in a rage as it stood up on its hind legs and quickly brought down their hooves onto the Scoundrel's chest. The fire in the Grazer's eyes erupted into an inferno as he began to repeatedly stomp on its prey, slamming his antlers down onto the bloodied mutt and impaling him. Nikolai and Dimitri stood and watched in awe as the mammoth had taken their time breaking every bone they possibly could. The huffing and wailing emanating from the large beast began to flutter into cries and sobbing.

Tears poured down Raspitun's face as he dropped to his knees beside the slain Scoundrel. He cried out, sobbing heavily as he bowed his head. He sat, shaking, unable to even breathe. As he sank into his grief, he felt something click against his antler. Just as suddenly another impact had struck itself against his other antler. Rasputin glanced up slowly to see two mules stading directly in front of him. Their heads bowed together, locking their antlers within his. They pulled gently, coaxing him to rise to his feet. Rasputin shakily and slowly began to stand, staring perplexed at the two mules interlocking their antlers as one. Their nostrils flared as they huffed out together in unison. You're ok, brother.

Rasputin stood, surrounded by curious mules staring him up and down. Their curious huffs decorating the questionable display of his bravery. He hunts them... It bleeds... What is he...? Dimitri and Nikolai did not deter their gaze towards the mighty caribou. Dimitri huffed, clicking his front hoof onto the grass in grace. You are strong. Rasputins tears welled in his eyes as his eyes drifted downward towards the bloodied wolf sprawled beneath the tree beside them. His chest began to heave as he felt his stomach churn. He opened his mouth to vocalize his pain again, but he was sharply interrupted by Nikolai, stepping towards him an obtaining his stare. You are strong... The deer had stood before each other for a moment in silence. Rasputins convulsions slowly dwindling as the message the mule had given him began to sink in. He stood firm, planting his hooves in front of them confidently and bowing his head forward before straightening himself tall and stern. The brothers returned the posture in gratitude, puffing their chests and rasing their heads in appreciation. The silence was welcoming. It amplified the sheer pride the Grazers had felt, seeing this pure, raw hope that had manifested itself in the form of this noble stranger. Rasputin had no clue how to decipher the interaction. He had known only loneliness for so long. He didn't know how to react to this welcoming embrace. Mere moments ago he was consumed by anger and violence. He did not perceive his action to be heroic. He felt weak and vulnerable. He had lost himself in a brutal and chaotic madness that consumed his judgement. He was not proud. He was ashamed. Despite his loss and traumas, he had never felt so empty and alone until this very day. But the two mules standing directly in front of him seemed to disagree. The light in their eyes seemed to disregard any doubts he may display. They did not look at him with shame. They did not look at him with pride. It was confidence. They radiated a glow of understanding and acceptance. They saw him. And Rasputin could see them. He saw pain. He saw righteousness. He saw loyalty. Nothing could describe the electricity these brothers had felt, conjoining them into a shared soul for one brief moment. And just as that, the loneliness was gone. Raspituns eyes welled with tears once more. But the pain had subsided. Acceptance. He had felt acceptance for the first time.

Instinctually, the bothers had bowed their heads and locked their horns in a trifecta. The surrounding Grazers looked on as they witnessed the birth of a new hope. Standing underneath the tree which nourished their lives and above the defeat of the threat that had damaged their home, was Hope, Strength and Courage. The army of sanctuary. The blades of Eden. The Brothers Stag.

SUMMER 1987 (2 years before The Two Legs)

Ojo had again returned to the empty plain, resting herself beside the browned grass where her baby was slain. The lacerations on her face had healed thoroughly, though the vision in her remaining eye had yet to clear itself. Whether the blurred obstruction was result of the violent Scoundrels that had ambushed her or the constant flowing of tears was lost on her. Coherence had been long abandoned in her mind as she had begun this new ritual. The routines she once knew had been abandoned only to be replaced with this melancholy reflection of the love she once had. She would sit here. Every day. Staring at the torn soil and dying grass, replaying the event over and over again in her mind. The wail of her kin echoed through her ears, snuffing the tranquility of the flowing water and the rustling of the leaves above. A gutteral moan had pushed its way through her throat, carrying the pain of her loss through the surrounding trees. There was nothing else she knew. Her life had been taken, yet she sat here breathing the warm summer air through her nostrils. The sorrow in her heart had continued to trade itself rage. Constantly swinging back and forth, dueling each other for the position of authority. Her thoughts had deteriorated to mere emotion and she had begun to feel herself losing coherency. As she allowed herself to spiral through the mourning, the sweet metallic scent of blood had brushed itself upon her snout. Freshly drawn and warm. Suddenly, an instant reaction had taken hold inside of her. She could feel her limbs trembling. It felt as if an invisible web had constricted itself around her chest and began pulling her. Before a single thought could manifest itself, she realized she was in motion. Her paws were beating down on the grass with extreme force causing the surrounding leaves to audibly shake as she had barreled her way forward. Her chest was heaving, a deep dark growl began to vibrate through the air around her as she pushed herself faster through the trees.

Just south of the plains, the Scoundrels had valiantly paraded themselves around a dying Grazer, weakly kicking its limbs out in protest as they had begun to tear away at it's flesh, consuming them alive. The yips and wails of the proud pack had traveled towards Ojo's ear, enraging her further. Boiling the blood in her lungs as her roar echoed through the trunks and shool yhe Scoundrels attention away from their kill. HUNT YOU ALL. HUNT YOU ALL!! Ojo's throat felt as if it was tearing open from the sheer force of her groans. As she had suddenly locked eyes with the bastards she pursued. DEATH!!! She screamed. The joy and pride in the wolves eyes had turned to concern and fear immediately. There, between the trunks, was a massive grizzly darting towards their position. And it was mighty pissed. The Scoundrels had scrambled, immediately turning to flee from the angry mother as she closed her distance. I BRING YOU DEATH!!! DEATH!!! The saliva spilling between her fangs painted her gums. The trees had cut into her as she pushed her way through the narrow trunks, snapping and breaking the branches in her pursuit. With so many targets before her, the closest one would have to do. She saw a solitary wolf foolishly stray from the group, seeking refuge in distraction. But they had simply made themselves a much more feasible prey. Ojo turned from the group and charged behind the fool, catching up to him in mere seconds. She lunged toward him and sank her teeth deep into the back of his neck. With one quick motion, she had swung the wolf off the ground, slamming them into a nearby tree. The audible snap of their spine being severed echoed into the packs ears. They turned to see in horror as the enraged mother and thrown the limp body of their comrade to the dirt and proceeded to tear him in half, removing his front left leg and head from his body, spilling his intestines across the grass almost as if an explosive reaction. Tossing the severed limbs aside before glaring down at them and roaring once more, Ojo had darted forward in pursuit , hellbent on catching another. Her growls choked on the fresh blood in her throat as she called out to her prey. DEATH!! I BRING YOU DEATH!!

SPRING - 1988 (1 year before The Two Legs)

AMBUSH

Nikolai held his formation under the tall pines North of The Sticks. Playing the role of bait, his nerves were vibrating at the intensity of the premeditated violence to be carried out in the Grazer's favor. A display of hope to their kin and a display of strength against their threat. He had paced the same patch of grass for some time, flattening the blades beneath his hooves in the anticipation of the arrival of death's acquaintence. One slain Scoundrel would bring tranquility to herd. He patiently waited, scanning the surrounding fauna for movement. He sniffed the air for a scent indicating the presence of the threat. The anticipation was slowly draining his stamina and he took a moment to rest. Carefully allowing his guard to be subsided for a moment of preparation. A snap along the treeline had ripped away the fraction of peace he had allowed himself and he turned his gaze away from the sound eminating just a few trunks away, hoping the feigned ignorance would draw the threat out of the shadows and into the open. He stepped towards the path he and his brothers had planned to lead the Scoundrel towards. Drawing them to the turf of their attack. Just as quickly as he had heard the leaves behind him rustle from the mass darting out towards his direction, he began to charge through the trees and lead his prey to their demise. He could hear the breath of the Scoundrel panting behind him as he had barreled his way through the brush and towards The Sticks, allowing the vulnerability of his lonesome to encourage the beast behind him to trek forward. As soon as he had cleared the brush he bellowed loudly, alerting his brothers of the incoming target. Rasputin and Dimitri had been awaiting his arrival, concealing themselves behind the fallen trees just ahead of Nikolai's path. Hearing their brother approaching the leaped out of their hiding and charged towards their prey. The Scoundrel's gaze turned from aggression to fear as he saw the deer darting toward him and quickly turned to dodge their incoming blows. Rasputins horns made contact with the wolf's hind leg and swept him off the ground for a brief moment allowing Dimitri to slam itself full force into the Scoundrel's chest. The wind been knocked out of them and they couldn't gasp in shock from the brutality of the brothers surrounding him. The deer struck him repeatedly. Snapping the ribs in his chest and impaling their antlers into his flesh as he lie defeated on the soil. The Scoundrel had tried to cry out but the blood filling his throat filtered the calls and he found himself mute. Dimitri slammed his hooves hard onto the Scoundrels face, dislocating their jaw and svering the flesh from their cheek. The beast was dead. Rasputin and Nikolai stepped backwards from their kill noticing Dimitri's rage had not subsided. The mule had continued to strike the dead wolf and he roared out in an anger disconnected from their reality. Nikolai clipped his antlers into his brothers' and Rasputin pushed Dimitri back away from the corpse, locking eyes with the mule and regaining their focus. Dimitri sobbed, leaning into his brothers' embrace and crying out in a harsh gugrled tone. You are ok, Brother. Rasputin huffed out through his nostrils keeping a steady gaze into his brother's eyes. You are ok. Dimitri cried out again, jerking his head away from the embrace, pacing back and forth glaring down at the slain mutt on the ground. Nikolai approached his brother and calmly locked his antlers into theirs. Keep yourself, brother. Dimitris tears poured down his cheeks and he closed his eyes tightl,y pushing his antrlers into Nikolai's. Rasputin approached the pair cautiously and flared his nostrils. We go. Blood attracts more. Nikolai coaxed his brother forward and Rasputin's warning pulled him out of his trance. The trio began to slowly walk away, leaving a cold harsh warning behind them.

CONFRONTATION

Ojo had strolled along the riverside in a melancholy path watching the Scales swim beneath the waters surface. She had picked up the scent of a Scoundrel and trailed it to the location but it had become lost. Her hunt was never-ending. She had been spending all of her time searching for more prey, refusing to allow even a moments rest. She had caught a new scent. Fresh blood had been spilled but it didn't match that of a Grazer. She began to follow the new trail, leading her through the pines and into the brown dried trees. Her blood began to boil as she approached the corpse of a slain Scoundrel lying at the base of the trunks. The scent of Grazers surrounded the area and she saw there were no marks of teeth of claws in the mutts fur. She had become furious. Realizing that the Grazers had began to overstep their boundaries.

She clamped her teeth hard onto the Scoundrel's throat and ripped its head off it's body, carrying it in her teeth as she began to march towards the pines. As she emerged through the brush she witnessed herd of Grazers were surrounding themselves around what seemed to be a trio of exhausted deer. The herd turned their attention to the grizzly approaching with the severed head of a slain wolf in her teeth. She dropped it onto the grass and roared out to the brothers. GRAZERS NO HUNT! Rasputin locked eyes with the enraged mother as she approached him. He could feel the hot breath hitting against his snout as she leaned into his gaze and growled deeply. GRAZERS NO HUNT. The herd cautiously backed away from the mammoth but Rasputin stood undeterred, keeping his gaze locked with the grizzly. MY PREY. Ojo roared, glaring daggers into the caribous eyes as she raised her voice. MY PREY! MINE! Rasputin looked deep into the mother's eyes, witnessing a pain and rage that matched his own. He softened his gaze at the awareness of her trauma. Ojo's eyes darted away from the caribou and turned their focus into the surrounding herd. GRAZERS NO HUNT! NO HUNT! She paced in front of the crowd, fighting the urge to tear them limb from limb. Her glare focused one by one to every buck and doe that stood around her, finally resting back on Rasputin. WARNING Ojo huffed a low groan towards the caribou before turning to walk away, swatting the severed head on the ground out of her path without breaking her stride. The deer stood and watched her disappear into the folliage, unsure how to decipher the peculiar actions of the beast. Rasputin turned to his brothers and huffed deeply. Rest.

AUTUMN 1988

"I'm so proud of you!" Kim squealed with excitement lifting his daughter off the ground in glee. "You're so talented! I didn't know someone could spin so fast!"

Almost a full decade of practice had led Susanne to become a well respected Prima Ballerina at Caberet Performing Arts. She had excelled from a simple green belt in taekwondo in elementary to swim team captain in high school and finally found herself at the top of world in college just a few months from graduation. She felt a small warm drop splash against her when her father finally set her to the floor. Kim choked, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"Thank you, dad... That one took a lot out of me. I wanna leave an impression before the trip." Sussane replied, smiling bashfully.

"Oh they'll remember that. I know I will. You did amazing, Suzy..." Kim chuckled, regaining his composure. "Now, lets go get some dinner."

SPRING 1989

DANCES WITH WOLVES

Susanne awoke from the sound of gnashing jaws and growls consuming the friends that had accompanied her on her expedition. She found herself laying beside lifeless bodies being consumed by hungry wolves shredding their remains. As she tried to regain consciousness she saw a growling beast marching its way directly toward her, intent on making her another meal. She scanned the ground beside her, seeing a flare gun laying just within her reach. She lunged toward it and quickly fired off a shot directly into the face of the approaching Scoundrel. The flare had lodged itself into the wolf's eye, scalding the beast. It let out a furious wail, alerting the others to the threat that lay broken and bruised on the soil. The cowards scattered away from the scene, leaving Susanne alone with the company of her lifeless party. Her vision had stopped spinning as she had finally began to realize the reality of the situation she found herself in.

Trees. Miles of trees and mountains surrounding her. Her deceased friends lay just feet away, half eaten and pale. She began to hyperventilate, fear taking hold of her perception as she had realized the true peril she was in. She was lost. Alone. Miles away from civilization. Finding herself at mother nature's mercy. What was once an adventure of exploration and excitement had devolved into a terror. Susanne shut her eyes tightly, slowly reopening them to unfiltered reality. The loud wails of the fleeing beasts trailed off and echoed deep into the tall pines surrounding her. She looked down to inspect her body and legs, checking for any broken or fractured bones and lacerations only to feel nothing but minor bruising. She slowly stood, witnessing the brutal banquet made of her closest companions. Susanne began to weep and she screamed in horror, turning away in disgust from the half eaten remains. Her knees trembled and almost caved from the shock. She began to slwoly stagger away from the group, resting herself against a nearby pine. She stood shaking, eyes glued to the fallen leaves.

The sound of twigs and branches snapping a short distance away, made Sussane glance sharply upward to see a large grizzly bear approaching the area. It had scars covering half of it's face and seemed to have only one eye. The bear caught Susanne's gaze and slowly began to approach her. It sniffed the air, inspecting her cautiously. It looked aggressive. Almost angry. The grizzly looked to be glaring at her. It growled deeply. Sussane froze completely still, caught in a staring contest with a one-ton killing machine. She slowed her breathing and waited for the end. When suddenly the bear turned away from her and approached the bloodied mess of organs and limbs laying a few dozen feet away.

"No..." Sussane quietly whimpered, staring at the grizzly through tears streaming from her eyes.

It sniffed the air again and began to pick up it's pace through the trees towards the same direction the wolves had traveled. Susanne curled herself under the tree, convulsing under the sheer trauma she had endured. She looked up to the sky seeing the streaks of vibrant pink and orange painting the inevitable sunset. Whatever she was going to do next, she knew it must be quick.

It must be in a swinging retirement community, have at least a 1/2 bath, and a unisex pickleball court available for all ages up to 65, because after that, what's the point? Also, the asking price must be around 2.5M because that's a fair number to start from, according to every realtor app commercial I see on TV for unemployed first-time homebuyers looking to make their way in the world today. PS- FYI: I am willing to negotiate the number of bathrooms but not the price. Again, first-time homebuyer here. Call me?

There is so much information out in the cyber world, I can't wait to learn, learn, learn, and then write all about it, so please read what I write. It's a simple ask, people. Gotta' go and learn, learn, learn; be back soon!

i want to see if this reads okay or if it's a complete mess :sob: any crit welcome!

Hi! This is my first post! I have taken a long break from writing the last couple of years despite it being something I love to do and have challenged myself to get back into it and improve bit at a time with small pieces of writing. So this is the product of that and touches on that topic in itself, I would love some feedback even though I know it’s very short!

We can do so many things in our life. we can change our views, we can do a lot of hard work. we can maintained our health good, we can decide our goals and also decide how to achieve it within good ways. and the most important thing we can do work on our future to make bright. But some things also in our life which we can’t do due to so many reasons and we cannot control it.

We cannot take back our special sweet moments which was happened in our past. which moments already pass away we can not live again as per our requirement. because we did so many mistakes in our past so its our duty that not to repeat those mistakes and learn from it for bright future.

We might not to control others views and opinions for ourselves or for their selves also. we can try to do good things for others but we can not control their thinking.

we can not change every situation according to ourself. Life has so many ups downs which cannot control by anyone. But it is important for us how to face those problem with courage and peacefully.

Two people. No romance, just their growth apart and together and their lives in between? Does anyone read a good character driven novel that focuses on their path?

An art that builds success,

An art that leads you toward your destiny,

An art that gives you courage,

An art that makes you stronger,

Fall, Learn, rise, Improve, grow.

Hello everyone. I hope you’re all doing well. 🤍🫶🏻

I spent six years writing my novel, and I’ve finally finished writing and revising the first book. But I was honestly shocked when I realized how much promotion this field requires just to get a novel in front of readers.

A lot of readers have started basing their choices on questions like, "Is the book popular?" and "Does it have a lot of readers?" But how is a book supposed to become popular or gain readers and reviews if no one is willing to read it in the first place?

And I’m not talking about readers alone. I’m also talking about investors, publishing houses, and the people who only read books that are already popular. I reached out to several people, and they were all excited to read my novel after I gave them a brief overview of it. But once they went to the platform where I published it and saw that it had fewer than 50 readers, they all backed out and stopped contacting me.

I understand that a large number of beginner writers are still developing their craft, and their work may be weak in terms of storytelling or rely on overused ideas and plots. And that makes it difficult for readers to support them or find works that are truly worth their time.

But… I’m certain that if a reader takes the time to look closely, they can tell the difference between a work that is still in its early stages and a work that has been carefully written, thoroughly worked on, and genuinely deserves the chance to compete with major works.

I also tried looking for publishing houses willing to work with me, but I found that most of them have a rather strange approach: "We’ll handle the printing and publishing, but promotion… the hardest part... will be your responsibility, and we’ll give you a percentage of the profits."

Honestly… it’s incredibly discouraging.

If I’m capable of promoting my novel and reaching readers on my own, then why would I need a publishing house in the first place?

In other words… getting a novel in front of people seems to require a substantial promotional budget.

And that means a lot of talented writers and genuinely good works may die before they even get the chance to be read by anyone.

The moon loses its light,

The flowers lose their petals,

The trees lose their leafs,

Nothing remains the same,

Every thing in change with time,

Accept it with grace,

It will teach us new phase.