Sandpiper stands up, stretches. She flinches slightly, still able to feel her scabbed wounds, but she is better. I feel like hunting, she thought to herself. Maybe it's time I had some fun. Looking around to make sure no one was watching (I dunno why, just makes it more cool), she sauntered off into the woods, catching the scent of something delicious. Mmm... that's what I'm talking about, baby...
ѕησω ρα¢к- α ωσℓ яρ ●ηєωѕ● We're going under many changes! PLZ L00k!!
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Following the scent, Sandpiper crouched and sniffed. There it was, she could see it now. Fresh meat, just sitting there! Goodness, who would do a thing like that! She crept up to it and was just about to take a bite when clang! metal against metal sounded behind her, and a lump of dread grew in her throat when she realized what she had done. Surrounded by a cage, trapped with a chunk of raw meat. Stupid, stupid... she told herself, trying to think of a way to get out of this mess. So she began to howl, long and loud, although she couldn't sit up tall enough to point her head up. Oh, please, help!
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Bee poked his head out of a bush when he heard the snap, "Oh no........." He ran over and tried to open it, got it a crack open, but then it closed on his tail. He yowled and looked around, still trying to help 'Piper.
Bee poked his head out of a bush when he heard the snap, "Oh no........." He ran over and tried to open it, got it a crack open, but then it closed on his tail. He yowled and looked around, still trying to help 'Piper.
*hears the racket*
Now what- cant the leave a wounded wolf alone?
*slowly gets up and heads towards the trap*
What do we have here? Can't you smell the man here?
*mumbles under breath*
**having seen traps before looks for ((and my pet rats can do this with no problem, in less then an hour)) the main hinge- scrambles up -
-falls on his tail, yelps in pain**
**Gets on top of the cage at the main hinge and pulls up**
-the cage would open up about 1/3 of the way-
NOW!!!!
Now what- cant the leave a wounded wolf alone?
*slowly gets up and heads towards the trap*
What do we have here? Can't you smell the man here?
*mumbles under breath*
**having seen traps before looks for ((and my pet rats can do this with no problem, in less then an hour)) the main hinge- scrambles up -
-falls on his tail, yelps in pain**
**Gets on top of the cage at the main hinge and pulls up**
-the cage would open up about 1/3 of the way-
NOW!!!!
I know Piper's waiting, but I just started writing a novel about dogs, so here's some of the first chapter: (Just skip over it if you guys don't want to read it. Just one of my new beginnings that I probably won't finish...
)
Chapter One: The Prophesy
A cool night breeze rippled the smooth surface of the lake, distorting the creamy reflection of the full moon. A dog, sitting quietly on the grassy shore, closed his eyes and breathed the cool air through his nostrils, calming his troubled soul. Standing beside him was a smaller version of himself, a young pup, barely six months old.
After a long moment, the older dog looked down at the pup and smiled gravely. These are bad times we live in, son, he told it in a gravelly voice, rough with age. You must learn to seek help from the Creator, as I do, in times of need.
The pup looked at his father with a solemn face, but with eager eyes. Teach me, Father, please, he begged. The older dog nodded slowly.
Ask Him to guide your soul, to teach you what you must do. I only tell you the truth when I say that I shall not be here on earth much longer, and after I am gone you must seek guidance from your Creator.
The pup lowered his head and sighed. Closing his eyes, he sat on his haunches and began to breathe steadily, deeply. Time passed, and the moon rose higher in the sky. When the reflection it cast in the lake had moved to the middle, the old dog rose quietly and motioned for the pup to do the same.
The Creator has given me my instructions, he told the pup. As the prophet of Swift-Pack, I have one last prophesy to tell the Pack. After that, the title of Prophet shall be passed on to you. This is not the custom, passing on the job from parent to child, but the Creator has told me to, and I shall obey.
Side by side, the two of them began to walk slowly, silently home.
* * * *
The next day dawned cold and dark. Wild winds howled and wailed, whipping the trees back and forth and stripping the leaves from the branches. Swift-Pack was up before the sun, though there was little sun to speak of anyway. They went about their duties, the hunters catching the days food, the scouts watching the territory border, and the nurse-mothers caring for the young pups.
There was a single main clearing, with four makeshift caves built into the grasses and trees around the edge. In one slept the leaders of Swift-Pack, the Alphas. The second was the healing-dogs cave, and the third was the nursery, where the pups and the expecting nurse-mothers stayed. The fourth and smallest cave was where the Prophet and Prophetess of Swift-Pack lived their entire lives.
Now, in that fourth cave, the old Prophet lay weak and sick. His only child, his mate, and the healing-dog tended him with care, but there was little they could do. This was no sickness, just old age, which was ailing him. The three dogs could only watch helplessly as the elderly dog slipped in and out of a restless sleep.
I need to the Prophet gasped after many minutes. A spark of hope lighted the pups sad brown eyes momentarily at hearing his father speak. I must tell them the old dog looked imploringly into his sons face, as if to say, Why cant I make you understand? Once more he tried. I have a prophesy for Swift-Pack, he wheezed. A lowly female shall bear a pup above all others and it shall bring to this tribe something unsuspected that shall save us all The dog coughed heavily. My son, Rainstreak, shall take on my position as Prophet. That is the wish of the Creator. Rainstreak, come closer, my son the dog choked on his own breath. Find your sister Larksong, find her!
The Prophet released a sharp bark and then exhaled his last breath. His deep brown eyes closed and his lifeless body became still.
The pup, Rainstreak, swallowed a sob that rose in his throat, but the tears rolled in torrents down his muzzle, spattering the dirt with salt water. His mother, the Prophetess, comforted him and wept also, but the healing-dog looked very thoughtful.
I didnt know Rainstreak had a sister, Yellowleaf, the healing-dog, said. The Prophetess, Silvermist, looked uneasy.
If the Prophet had another pup, then I am not its mother, she said, slowly. She always called him Prophet, because no one except his closest friends knew his true name. Perhaps it was just the fever-dream words of a dying dog. Silvermist licked Rainstreaks gray head and washed away his tear-lines with her tongue.
Rainstreak shook his head and said, Father has always hinted at another life, has he not? No one knows where he came from, or what his youth was like. He stood. We must tell the Swift-Pack leaders the prophesy. Rainstreak murmured the words of it to himself so that he did not forget, and then took a deep breath.
You are now the Prophet, Silvermist told him, bowing her head in reverence. You will be the one to tell the Alphas the prophesy.
A dismal drizzling rain began just as the three dogs stepped out of the Prophets cave. Yellowleaf, the healing-dog, returned to the medicine cave. Silvermist and Rainstreak continued on to the Alphas cave.
Alpha Heronwing, Rainstreak and his mother said in unison as they were greeted by the alpha-female at the entrance of the cave. Bowing their heads low, they waited for her to speak.
Silvermist, what brings you here? And with young Rainstreak, too? Then Heronwing noticed their solemn faces, their downcast eyes, and she wished she hadnt been quite so cheery.
The Prophet has died, Heronwing, Silvermist informed her. He had one last prophesy to give Swift-Pack. She entered the cave as Heronwing welcomed the two dogs in. Silvermist and Rainstreak shook the water droplets out of their coats and settled themselves on the ground. They both politely refused the meat that Heronwing offered them, although Rainstreak would have if he hadnt received a sharp warning glance from his mother.
Heronwing laid herself gracefully down on the ground, a chunk of venison in her mouth. Her shaggy black-and-white fur was smooth and shiny, slightly wetted with the rain.
I am so sorry for you, Silvermist, and Rainstreak, too. I will forever grieve the death of this Prophet, as he has been the best that I can remember. Heronwing moved her paw nearer to Silvermists and looked at her sincerely. But before you tell me what the prophesy is, was there a reason that you brought Rainstreak along with you?
The Prophet also told us that, however strange it may seem, the Creator has chosen Rainstreak to become the next Prophet. Rainstreak has been unofficially apprenticed to his fathers work for the past few weeks, but that was just his curiosity.
Heronwing smiled gently at Rainstreak. Do you believe you can be the Prophet?
The pup looked undecided. I dont know, Alpha Heronwing, he replied. I never expected to be the Prophet.
The rain beat on steadily outside the cave, drumming on the rocks and earth. A heavy fog had settled over the entire clearing. Rainstreak felt all the more miserable about his fathers sudden death as he stared at the gray wetness. Remembering how, only the night before, his father had told him to seek the guidance of the Creator in times of need, Rain closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Creator, bless my father, and give him a good place to live in the Second Life. Oh, Creator, please help me to be a good Prophet! I am but a pup and I havent even begun training in anything. I need your help
Rain, Silvermist whispered to him. Staring at the rain wont bring the Prophet back. You need to tell Heronwing the prophesy. Rainstreak was startled from his thoughts, but he reluctantly began to recite his fathers dying words.
A lowly female shall bear a pup above all others, and it shall bring to this tribe something unsuspected that shall save us all.
Heronwing looked interested. A lowly female, she repeated. I wonder what that means. And something unsuspected? A cryptic prophesy, but a prophesy nonetheless. I must call the Pack together. Alpha Hawkfur and several hunters are away on a hunting trip, of course, but Prophets death, the prophesy, and Rainstreaks new job must all be announced. Come! Gulping down the rest of her meat, Heronwing leapt to her feet and motioned for Silvermist and Rainstreak to follow her out the mouth of the cave.
Rain paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he asked the Creator once more for help. Then he lifted his head and followed his mothers swaying silver tail, shivering as the freezing rain soaked him to the skin.
Chapter One: The Prophesy
A cool night breeze rippled the smooth surface of the lake, distorting the creamy reflection of the full moon. A dog, sitting quietly on the grassy shore, closed his eyes and breathed the cool air through his nostrils, calming his troubled soul. Standing beside him was a smaller version of himself, a young pup, barely six months old.
After a long moment, the older dog looked down at the pup and smiled gravely. These are bad times we live in, son, he told it in a gravelly voice, rough with age. You must learn to seek help from the Creator, as I do, in times of need.
The pup looked at his father with a solemn face, but with eager eyes. Teach me, Father, please, he begged. The older dog nodded slowly.
Ask Him to guide your soul, to teach you what you must do. I only tell you the truth when I say that I shall not be here on earth much longer, and after I am gone you must seek guidance from your Creator.
The pup lowered his head and sighed. Closing his eyes, he sat on his haunches and began to breathe steadily, deeply. Time passed, and the moon rose higher in the sky. When the reflection it cast in the lake had moved to the middle, the old dog rose quietly and motioned for the pup to do the same.
The Creator has given me my instructions, he told the pup. As the prophet of Swift-Pack, I have one last prophesy to tell the Pack. After that, the title of Prophet shall be passed on to you. This is not the custom, passing on the job from parent to child, but the Creator has told me to, and I shall obey.
Side by side, the two of them began to walk slowly, silently home.
* * * *
The next day dawned cold and dark. Wild winds howled and wailed, whipping the trees back and forth and stripping the leaves from the branches. Swift-Pack was up before the sun, though there was little sun to speak of anyway. They went about their duties, the hunters catching the days food, the scouts watching the territory border, and the nurse-mothers caring for the young pups.
There was a single main clearing, with four makeshift caves built into the grasses and trees around the edge. In one slept the leaders of Swift-Pack, the Alphas. The second was the healing-dogs cave, and the third was the nursery, where the pups and the expecting nurse-mothers stayed. The fourth and smallest cave was where the Prophet and Prophetess of Swift-Pack lived their entire lives.
Now, in that fourth cave, the old Prophet lay weak and sick. His only child, his mate, and the healing-dog tended him with care, but there was little they could do. This was no sickness, just old age, which was ailing him. The three dogs could only watch helplessly as the elderly dog slipped in and out of a restless sleep.
I need to the Prophet gasped after many minutes. A spark of hope lighted the pups sad brown eyes momentarily at hearing his father speak. I must tell them the old dog looked imploringly into his sons face, as if to say, Why cant I make you understand? Once more he tried. I have a prophesy for Swift-Pack, he wheezed. A lowly female shall bear a pup above all others and it shall bring to this tribe something unsuspected that shall save us all The dog coughed heavily. My son, Rainstreak, shall take on my position as Prophet. That is the wish of the Creator. Rainstreak, come closer, my son the dog choked on his own breath. Find your sister Larksong, find her!
The Prophet released a sharp bark and then exhaled his last breath. His deep brown eyes closed and his lifeless body became still.
The pup, Rainstreak, swallowed a sob that rose in his throat, but the tears rolled in torrents down his muzzle, spattering the dirt with salt water. His mother, the Prophetess, comforted him and wept also, but the healing-dog looked very thoughtful.
I didnt know Rainstreak had a sister, Yellowleaf, the healing-dog, said. The Prophetess, Silvermist, looked uneasy.
If the Prophet had another pup, then I am not its mother, she said, slowly. She always called him Prophet, because no one except his closest friends knew his true name. Perhaps it was just the fever-dream words of a dying dog. Silvermist licked Rainstreaks gray head and washed away his tear-lines with her tongue.
Rainstreak shook his head and said, Father has always hinted at another life, has he not? No one knows where he came from, or what his youth was like. He stood. We must tell the Swift-Pack leaders the prophesy. Rainstreak murmured the words of it to himself so that he did not forget, and then took a deep breath.
You are now the Prophet, Silvermist told him, bowing her head in reverence. You will be the one to tell the Alphas the prophesy.
A dismal drizzling rain began just as the three dogs stepped out of the Prophets cave. Yellowleaf, the healing-dog, returned to the medicine cave. Silvermist and Rainstreak continued on to the Alphas cave.
Alpha Heronwing, Rainstreak and his mother said in unison as they were greeted by the alpha-female at the entrance of the cave. Bowing their heads low, they waited for her to speak.
Silvermist, what brings you here? And with young Rainstreak, too? Then Heronwing noticed their solemn faces, their downcast eyes, and she wished she hadnt been quite so cheery.
The Prophet has died, Heronwing, Silvermist informed her. He had one last prophesy to give Swift-Pack. She entered the cave as Heronwing welcomed the two dogs in. Silvermist and Rainstreak shook the water droplets out of their coats and settled themselves on the ground. They both politely refused the meat that Heronwing offered them, although Rainstreak would have if he hadnt received a sharp warning glance from his mother.
Heronwing laid herself gracefully down on the ground, a chunk of venison in her mouth. Her shaggy black-and-white fur was smooth and shiny, slightly wetted with the rain.
I am so sorry for you, Silvermist, and Rainstreak, too. I will forever grieve the death of this Prophet, as he has been the best that I can remember. Heronwing moved her paw nearer to Silvermists and looked at her sincerely. But before you tell me what the prophesy is, was there a reason that you brought Rainstreak along with you?
The Prophet also told us that, however strange it may seem, the Creator has chosen Rainstreak to become the next Prophet. Rainstreak has been unofficially apprenticed to his fathers work for the past few weeks, but that was just his curiosity.
Heronwing smiled gently at Rainstreak. Do you believe you can be the Prophet?
The pup looked undecided. I dont know, Alpha Heronwing, he replied. I never expected to be the Prophet.
The rain beat on steadily outside the cave, drumming on the rocks and earth. A heavy fog had settled over the entire clearing. Rainstreak felt all the more miserable about his fathers sudden death as he stared at the gray wetness. Remembering how, only the night before, his father had told him to seek the guidance of the Creator in times of need, Rain closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Creator, bless my father, and give him a good place to live in the Second Life. Oh, Creator, please help me to be a good Prophet! I am but a pup and I havent even begun training in anything. I need your help
Rain, Silvermist whispered to him. Staring at the rain wont bring the Prophet back. You need to tell Heronwing the prophesy. Rainstreak was startled from his thoughts, but he reluctantly began to recite his fathers dying words.
A lowly female shall bear a pup above all others, and it shall bring to this tribe something unsuspected that shall save us all.
Heronwing looked interested. A lowly female, she repeated. I wonder what that means. And something unsuspected? A cryptic prophesy, but a prophesy nonetheless. I must call the Pack together. Alpha Hawkfur and several hunters are away on a hunting trip, of course, but Prophets death, the prophesy, and Rainstreaks new job must all be announced. Come! Gulping down the rest of her meat, Heronwing leapt to her feet and motioned for Silvermist and Rainstreak to follow her out the mouth of the cave.
Rain paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he asked the Creator once more for help. Then he lifted his head and followed his mothers swaying silver tail, shivering as the freezing rain soaked him to the skin.
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(oooo) ___________ (oooo) WHOA! THat's AWESOME! ♥♥♥ it !
(oooo) ___________ (oooo) WHOA! THat's AWESOME! ♥♥♥ it !
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(oooo) ___________ (oooo) WHOA! THat's AWESOME! ♥♥♥ it !
Thanks!
I think I grew a beard reading that, a good one!
Really good Dutch!
(oooo) ___________ (oooo) WHOA! THat's AWESOME! ♥♥♥ it !
Thanks!
I think I grew a beard reading that, a good one!
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Quote:
I think I grew a beard reading that, a good one!
Really good Dutch!
Thanks, again! I looked at the first chapter of the first book of the Warriors series, just for fun, today, and got an idea.
Yeah, I was like "whoa, this sounds familiar..."LOL
I think I grew a beard reading that, a good one!
Thanks, again! I looked at the first chapter of the first book of the Warriors series, just for fun, today, and got an idea.
Yeah, I was like "whoa, this sounds familiar..."LOL
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