Anna's Artists Chat Thread

[MGG]

So I know this isn't my art thread but I still wanted to share these...some character designs for a new OC of mine. I want to write her in as the main character of a fantasy-esque story that I might share with yall eventually. Her stand-in name is Lucky but I need some suggestions!

This is her official design, but she gets an outfit change once she enters my fantasy realm!
View attachment 2437627
Here she is in her winter outfit
View attachment 2437622

She's so pretty! She looks like a Velvet or a Jade to me.

 

[Amer]

I just joined a star wars D&D group so I scribbled up some ideas for characters I could play...idk which one to use, they're all such pretty ladiesssss
View attachment 2476234
I'm def. going to use the others somehow though. Hopefully they can make it into that star wars story i was writing (which I think I will abandon and just post art to tell the story bc I don't have a clear narrative anyway)

I really like them, especially the angry blue with orange eyes.
Face shapes so nice. I think pink has neat hair. I often wear my hair in a braid.

 

[lilmillefleur]

I'm back to writing my fantasy story! Finally picked up chapter 3 and finished it!!
The only major edits I've made to the other 2 chapters is changing it so Sam will not be working to pay back her stay because Ammil is that nice. Instead, Ammil tells Sam that she can go home by the day's end. If you want to see all the whole thing, you can read here-->
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jYpP5FE4_q5WcIotsCRI8Gy2LoCwu_VIJhODkI4g_iQ/edit?usp=sharing

Spoiler: Observatory Chapter 3 - The Goddess

Sam spent the rest of the day helping out with maintaining the strange apartment complex. Mostly it was cleaning the dining room and the halls or serving food, but sometimes it was assigning apartments, or making phone calls, or gathering up the mail, or checking people in. Every time she saw someone new come in she had to get a good look at them--and they always took a good look at her. She came to know most of the people who lived in the apartment complex within the first few hours: A family with human heads and the bodies of snakes. A father and daughter with the legs and torsos of lions. People with gigantic spiraling horns on their heads. An actual talking unicorn. They were all so bizarre, but Sam noticed that none of the creatures were actually ugly. They all had pretty faces and majestic features, which Sam found very intriguing. Not that she considered herself ugly, but she was not much to look at--she didn’t need to be anything more than that.
Sam had met the other employees, Pirr and Mack, quite early on. They seemed unusually wary of her, especially Pirr. Mack was naturally more of the friendly type, and it only took him an hour or two before he got over what Sam was told was simply fear of humans. He was tall and lanky, he had short blonde hair with dark brown roots, and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. The most interesting thing about him, however, was that he had 2 pairs of arms instead of one. He must have had 2 brains as well, for all Sam knew, because he was able to multitask so effortlessly. The first time she saw him, he was mopping the hallway with one hand, peeling the wrapper of some kind of candy with another two, and snapping his fingers with yet another to the song he was blasting.
Pirr was a different story. He had olive skin and wavy dark brown hair and from what she could gather, he was probably no older than 16 or 17. He looked like some kind of angel or harpy because he had these big brown striped wings with hands on the ends, and a feathered tail and ears to match. He never really talked to her much, usually trying to avoid her whenever she was close by. Sam tried not to take it personally, but she just couldn’t help feeling like he hated her.
It was getting close to evening when she finally mustered up the courage to try and get Pirr to open up. He had just finished talking to someone on the telephone behind the counter when she came and stood in front of him. She took a deep breath. “Are you still afraid of me?”
“With you talking like that, maybe,” he said. She could sense unease in his voice.
“...I’m just a child.”
“I know.” The telephone rang again and Pirr answered it. “Hello? This is Crane’s Tree. How can I help you?”
Sam waited patiently for him to finish. Waiting was something she was good at.
“Yes, we can do that for you. You’re welcome. Have a nice evening, ma’am.”
“Then why are you afraid?” Sam continued.
“I have every reason to be.”
“Would you enlighten me, please?” Sam asked. “If you don’t mind.”
“Do you know The Goddess?” Pirr’s voice lowered.
“No,” Sam breathed.
“They say The Goddess can read the minds of people she sees,” he said. “And you have some troubling information about our world. I know that because you--” he pointed a finger at her-- “are not from around here.”
“Is this about the shadow? Or the flowers?” Sam whispered.
“I don’t know of any flowers. But She appears as a shadow sometimes.” Pirr spoke in a hushed tone now too. “Did you see her?”
“I must have. Ever since I moved to my new town.”
“She must know something about you, then. She’ll hunt you down. Kill you, even. And I am not getting myself killed by affiliating with you.” Pirr waved her away and took another call.
Sam learned not an hour later that Pirr had quit his job. At least now she knew why. She couldn’t waste away in Crane Tree forever, and although she longed to explore the rest of the strange town and the snowdrifts, she understood that she was in danger here. It was nightfall now, and that meant it was time to go home.
“Ammil,” She called out late that night after all the families had returned home to their apartments. “I need to ask you something.”
“Anything, dear,” Ammil smiled as she approached. It was a tired smile, though, as she had to work nearly twice as hard to make up for the loss of Pirr. Sam suddenly felt horrible.
“Pirr told me that The Goddess would want me dead. That I have...important information. What did he mean by that?”
Ammil began to whisper. “You came from the Outside World,” she said. “The Goddess believes this is the only world there is. She has convinced herself she is the ruler of the universe.”
“So...because I know there’s another world out there, I’m not safe.”
“That’s right.”
“Do I have your permission, then...to go home?”
Ammil sighed sadly. “Yes. Yes, you have my permission. The flowers are up in my room. They will take you home.”
“Will you be okay?” asked Sam. Her voice was laced with concern.
“If I can find a way for my son to help me, I think we’ll get by.”
Her son? “Thank you, Ammil. We’ll see each other again, right?”
“If all goes well, then yes.” Ammil smiled. “But I cannot abandon my duties here.”
“I get it.” Sam turned towards the stairs. “Well, bye.”
“Goodbye, Sam.” The woman waved. Sam waved back, then disappeared up the spiraling staircase, climbing up, up to the very top where Ammil’s own apartment was. She turned the key to the single door at the top of the staircase.
Ammil’s apartment was much larger than the others, and occupied the entire 6th floor. It had the same coziness as the rest of Crane’s Tree, but was more cluttered and looked as though it had not been cleaned in days. Sam had to carefully step over the clothes and papers and leaves that were scattered all over the floor to reach the bedroom.
Sam could immediately spy the vase of wildflowers on the bedside table, but she wanted to take advantage of a few liberties while she had the chance. She cracked open the dresser drawers and rummaged through them as gently as she could, but only found clothes and socks. Naturally, Sam gravitated towards the nightstand next. In that drawer she found what she was looking for at last: a photograph of a mother with a child on her lap. Ammil Crane and her deceased daughter. She looked about five or six years old, with pale skin and short wavy blonde hair and an abundance of freckles like her mother . They were both grinning ear to ear and gazing at each other as though they had been laughing. It made Sam’s heart ache with grief. It struck her mind, suddenly, that this place was a refuge for Ammil. By leaving, Sam was destroying the hope that the poor woman had of regaining in a sense what she once had. But Sam took the flowers from their vase anyway, and put them to her nose. Her vision began to blur. The world grew darker as it spun, and then it was full of stars again.
Instead of waking up back at home, however, Sam found herself passed out on the floor of Ammil’s apartment. Nothing had changed. To Sam’s surprise, she nearly sighed with relief. She couldn’t bear the thought of not making up to Ammil’s kindness.
Sam’s mind was tired and slow, but not without questions. Why can’t I leave? Do the flowers not work on me?
She didn’t have enough energy for another thought, so she went down to her apartment and collapsed on her bed. In the morning she would figure out how to escape. Surely Ammil could help her after she apologized. Maybe she could even start working at Crane Tree to make up for Pirr. She drifted off to sleep, one arm still dangling over the edge of the bed, a sinking feeling of guilt washing over her.
- - -
Sam was met with the shadow again. It took form and revealed itself as a beautiful woman clothed in white, as though it had stepped from the shadows.
“Do you think I am ignorant?” The woman’s voice was deep and it echoed into the vast nothingness surrounding them. Sam couldn’t speak.
“I know where you come from. I know where you are.. And--” she added-- “I’m not letting you go. I will hunt you down until you are mine.”
Sam sat up. It was still dark out. The room was eerily silent and cold, and she couldn’t see the lights of the town of trees from her window tonight. In fact, she couldn’t see anything from the window. It was as if it were shrouded in fog. Sam tiptoed across the freezing wooden floor, her toes curled up against the cold. She unlatched the window and pushed it open.
Sam was suddenly thrown against the far wall in a violent jolt, the floor tilted down towards her. Now the floor lurched the other way and she hit her head on the wall just below the window. The furniture came toppling towards her. She tried to stand up and run but the uneven floor made her slip. She covered her head with her hands instead and let out a cry. “Ammil! AMMIL!”
But Ammil didn’t respond. Instead, it was Mack who appeared in her bedroom doorway, his four arms crossed over his chest and stomach, a key dangling from one finger.
“Oh yeah. The trees do that sometimes.” He smiled. “Just don’t open the windows and ya won’t notice. Don’t know why Ammil didn’t give ya the rules. Seein’ you’re not from around here.”
“But--how does that work?” Sam’s eyes widened in awe and utter confusion.
“I dunno, truthfully. Same way ya don’t ever think about why you always come down when ya jump up. It’s just the way it is.”
“Where I come from, the houses don’t even move like this,” The ground lurched again, a bit softer this time. Sam stumbled but regained her balance.
“Well, I don’t suppose your houses are alive, then,” Mack said matter-of-factly. He didn’t move an inch save the jangling of the keys, but he was peering, eyes narrowed in the dark, around her now-destroyed room.
“Hey--s’that your furniture? Usually we don’t get banged up this bad.”
The floor lurched again. This time Mack and Sam both went sailing across the room. They would have fallen out the window if they had been thrown a bit higher.
“Dear Stars,” Mack exclaimed. “This ain’t normal.” He staggered to his feet and leaned out the window, gripping the edge of the window with one pair of hands, and cupping the other pair around his mouth.
“Ammil!” He called. “What’s goin’ on!” He was thrown back again. When he raised his head, Sam could see through the dark that his face was full of fear.
“What’s wrong?” Sam pressed. She stumbled to the window.
“We gotta get out of here. We gotta get everyone outta here. Right now!”
“Why?” Sam was distraught.
“You didn’t figure it out? We’re in danger, Sam!”
“No, I know that--” Sam decided mid-sentence to shut up with her questions until she had gotten to safety. She slid her feet into her slippers at the door and followed Mack.
The floor was steady again as soon as they left Sam’s apartment, but Mack was still terrified. He sprinted down the 3rd floor’s hallway, banging his fists on each occupied door. “Everyone, get out! Get out! We’re gonna be cut down!” He grappled in the dark for a button protruding from one side, and smacked it with a fist. An ear-splitting alarm pierced through the dark hall.
Almost instantly, a horde of groggy creatures emerged from their doors, gripping the hands of their children, and carrying their most precious belongings in bags. Descending the spiraling staircase in the dark. They moved swiftly and silently, yet they knew that everything they left behind could be destroyed.
Sam and Mack and a flood of anxious residents were almost to the ground level when a massive crack ran down the wooden walls as though they were being forcibly split apart. Some of the children began to cry at the deafening noise, their parents gathering them in their arms and their paws and their wings.
The crowd was shepherded down to the first level, where Mack uncovered a trap door under the rug in the lounge. He unlocked it and pulled it open, and people immediately began leaping down into a cellar that seemed to be even darker than before.
“This is below the ground. You’ll be safe here.” He reassured each parent and child and elder as they hurried down the stone steps. Sam and Mack waited until they were all huddled in the cellar before Sam was suddenly struck with a thought that would have plagued her earlier if she hadn’t been so frightened. Her dream. The Goddess would hunt her down and take her. The Goddess...this danger is all because of me! She was the reason why Ammil was going to lose everything--oh no.
“Where’s Ammil?”
“We can’t help her now. Get in here.” Mack’s voice was stern.
“I’ve already let her down. I have to make it up to her somehow. Please tell me where she is!” Sam’s voice began to choke up. “She’s gonna lose everything because of me. Please, Mack.” She felt herself sinking to her knees as if to beg.
Mack sighed. “She’s outside. But this is her fight. You can’t help ‘er.”
That was all Sam needed to hear. She vanished out the door and into the bitter snow, preparing herself for whatever she would find.

 

[Amer]

I'm back to writing my fantasy story! Finally picked up chapter 3 and finished it!!
The only major edits I've made to the other 2 chapters is changing it so Sam will not be working to pay back her stay because Ammil is that nice. Instead, Ammil tells Sam that she can go home by the day's end. If you want to see all the whole thing, you can read here-->
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jYpP5FE4_q5WcIotsCRI8Gy2LoCwu_VIJhODkI4g_iQ/edit?usp=sharing

Spoiler: Observatory Chapter 3 - The Goddess

Sam spent the rest of the day helping out with maintaining the strange apartment complex. Mostly it was cleaning the dining room and the halls or serving food, but sometimes it was assigning apartments, or making phone calls, or gathering up the mail, or checking people in. Every time she saw someone new come in she had to get a good look at them--and they always took a good look at her. She came to know most of the people who lived in the apartment complex within the first few hours: A family with human heads and the bodies of snakes. A father and daughter with the legs and torsos of lions. People with gigantic spiraling horns on their heads. An actual talking unicorn. They were all so bizarre, but Sam noticed that none of the creatures were actually ugly. They all had pretty faces and majestic features, which Sam found very intriguing. Not that she considered herself ugly, but she was not much to look at--she didn’t need to be anything more than that.
Sam had met the other employees, Pirr and Mack, quite early on. They seemed unusually wary of her, especially Pirr. Mack was naturally more of the friendly type, and it only took him an hour or two before he got over what Sam was told was simply fear of humans. He was tall and lanky, he had short blonde hair with dark brown roots, and he looked to be in his mid-twenties. The most interesting thing about him, however, was that he had 2 pairs of arms instead of one. He must have had 2 brains as well, for all Sam knew, because he was able to multitask so effortlessly. The first time she saw him, he was mopping the hallway with one hand, peeling the wrapper of some kind of candy with another two, and snapping his fingers with yet another to the song he was blasting.
Pirr was a different story. He had olive skin and wavy dark brown hair and from what she could gather, he was probably no older than 16 or 17. He looked like some kind of angel or harpy because he had these big brown striped wings with hands on the ends, and a feathered tail and ears to match. He never really talked to her much, usually trying to avoid her whenever she was close by. Sam tried not to take it personally, but she just couldn’t help feeling like he hated her.
It was getting close to evening when she finally mustered up the courage to try and get Pirr to open up. He had just finished talking to someone on the telephone behind the counter when she came and stood in front of him. She took a deep breath. “Are you still afraid of me?”
“With you talking like that, maybe,” he said. She could sense unease in his voice.
“...I’m just a child.”
“I know.” The telephone rang again and Pirr answered it. “Hello? This is Crane’s Tree. How can I help you?”
Sam waited patiently for him to finish. Waiting was something she was good at.
“Yes, we can do that for you. You’re welcome. Have a nice evening, ma’am.”
“Then why are you afraid?” Sam continued.
“I have every reason to be.”
“Would you enlighten me, please?” Sam asked. “If you don’t mind.”
“Do you know The Goddess?” Pirr’s voice lowered.
“No,” Sam breathed.
“They say The Goddess can read the minds of people she sees,” he said. “And you have some troubling information about our world. I know that because you--” he pointed a finger at her-- “are not from around here.”
“Is this about the shadow? Or the flowers?” Sam whispered.
“I don’t know of any flowers. But She appears as a shadow sometimes.” Pirr spoke in a hushed tone now too. “Did you see her?”
“I must have. Ever since I moved to my new town.”
“She must know something about you, then. She’ll hunt you down. Kill you, even. And I am not getting myself killed by affiliating with you.” Pirr waved her away and took another call.
Sam learned not an hour later that Pirr had quit his job. At least now she knew why. She couldn’t waste away in Crane Tree forever, and although she longed to explore the rest of the strange town and the snowdrifts, she understood that she was in danger here. It was nightfall now, and that meant it was time to go home.
“Ammil,” She called out late that night after all the families had returned home to their apartments. “I need to ask you something.”
“Anything, dear,” Ammil smiled as she approached. It was a tired smile, though, as she had to work nearly twice as hard to make up for the loss of Pirr. Sam suddenly felt horrible.
“Pirr told me that The Goddess would want me dead. That I have...important information. What did he mean by that?”
Ammil began to whisper. “You came from the Outside World,” she said. “The Goddess believes this is the only world there is. She has convinced herself she is the ruler of the universe.”
“So...because I know there’s another world out there, I’m not safe.”
“That’s right.”
“Do I have your permission, then...to go home?”
Ammil sighed sadly. “Yes. Yes, you have my permission. The flowers are up in my room. They will take you home.”
“Will you be okay?” asked Sam. Her voice was laced with concern.
“If I can find a way for my son to help me, I think we’ll get by.”
Her son? “Thank you, Ammil. We’ll see each other again, right?”
“If all goes well, then yes.” Ammil smiled. “But I cannot abandon my duties here.”
“I get it.” Sam turned towards the stairs. “Well, bye.”
“Goodbye, Sam.” The woman waved. Sam waved back, then disappeared up the spiraling staircase, climbing up, up to the very top where Ammil’s own apartment was. She turned the key to the single door at the top of the staircase.
Ammil’s apartment was much larger than the others, and occupied the entire 6th floor. It had the same coziness as the rest of Crane’s Tree, but was more cluttered and looked as though it had not been cleaned in days. Sam had to carefully step over the clothes and papers and leaves that were scattered all over the floor to reach the bedroom.
Sam could immediately spy the vase of wildflowers on the bedside table, but she wanted to take advantage of a few liberties while she had the chance. She cracked open the dresser drawers and rummaged through them as gently as she could, but only found clothes and socks. Naturally, Sam gravitated towards the nightstand next. In that drawer she found what she was looking for at last: a photograph of a mother with a child on her lap. Ammil Crane and her deceased daughter. She looked about five or six years old, with pale skin and short wavy blonde hair and an abundance of freckles like her mother . They were both grinning ear to ear and gazing at each other as though they had been laughing. It made Sam’s heart ache with grief. It struck her mind, suddenly, that this place was a refuge for Ammil. By leaving, Sam was destroying the hope that the poor woman had of regaining in a sense what she once had. But Sam took the flowers from their vase anyway, and put them to her nose. Her vision began to blur. The world grew darker as it spun, and then it was full of stars again.
Instead of waking up back at home, however, Sam found herself passed out on the floor of Ammil’s apartment. Nothing had changed. To Sam’s surprise, she nearly sighed with relief. She couldn’t bear the thought of not making up to Ammil’s kindness.
Sam’s mind was tired and slow, but not without questions. Why can’t I leave? Do the flowers not work on me?
She didn’t have enough energy for another thought, so she went down to her apartment and collapsed on her bed. In the morning she would figure out how to escape. Surely Ammil could help her after she apologized. Maybe she could even start working at Crane Tree to make up for Pirr. She drifted off to sleep, one arm still dangling over the edge of the bed, a sinking feeling of guilt washing over her.
- - -
Sam was met with the shadow again. It took form and revealed itself as a beautiful woman clothed in white, as though it had stepped from the shadows.
“Do you think I am ignorant?” The woman’s voice was deep and it echoed into the vast nothingness surrounding them. Sam couldn’t speak.
“I know where you come from. I know where you are.. And--” she added-- “I’m not letting you go. I will hunt you down until you are mine.”
Sam sat up. It was still dark out. The room was eerily silent and cold, and she couldn’t see the lights of the town of trees from her window tonight. In fact, she couldn’t see anything from the window. It was as if it were shrouded in fog. Sam tiptoed across the freezing wooden floor, her toes curled up against the cold. She unlatched the window and pushed it open.
Sam was suddenly thrown against the far wall in a violent jolt, the floor tilted down towards her. It reminded her of her dream on the boat, but this time it was real. Or as real as such a strange fantasy world could get. Now the floor lurched the other way and she hit her head on the wall just below the window. The furniture came toppling towards her. She tried to stand up and run but the uneven floor made her slip. She covered her head with her hands instead and let out a cry. “Ammil! AMMIL!”
But Ammil didn’t respond. Instead, it was Mack who appeared in her bedroom doorway, his four arms crossed over his chest and stomach, a key dangling from one finger.
“Oh yeah. The trees do that sometimes.” He smiled. “Just don’t open the windows and ya won’t notice. Don’t know why Ammil didn’t give ya the rules. Seein’ you’re not from around here.”
“But--how does that work?” Sam’s eyes widened in awe and utter confusion.
“I dunno, truthfully. Same way ya don’t ever think about why you always come down when ya jump up. It’s just the way it is.”
“Where I come from, the houses don’t even move like this,” The ground lurched again, a bit softer this time. Sam stumbled but regained her balance.
“Well, I don’t suppose your houses are alive, then,” Mack said matter-of-factly. He didn’t move an inch save the jangling of the keys, but he was peering, eyes narrowed in the dark, around her now-destroyed room.
“Hey--s’that your furniture? Usually we don’t get banged up this bad.”
The floor lurched again. This time Mack and Sam both went sailing across the room. They would have fallen out the window if they had been thrown a bit higher.
“Dear Stars,” Mack exclaimed. “This ain’t normal.” He staggered to his feet and leaned out the window, gripping the edge of the window with one pair of hands, and cupping the other pair around his mouth.
“Ammil!” He called. “What’s goin’ on!” He was thrown back again. When he raised his head, Sam could see through the dark that his face was full of fear.
“What’s wrong?” Sam pressed. She stumbled to the window.
“We gotta get out of here. We gotta get everyone outta here. Right now!”
“Why?” Sam was distraught.
“You didn’t figure it out? We’re in danger, Sam!”
“No, I know that--” Sam decided mid-sentence to shut up with her questions until she had gotten to safety. She slid her feet into her slippers at the door and followed Mack.
The floor was steady again as soon as they left Sam’s apartment, but Mack was still terrified. He sprinted down the 3rd floor’s hallway, banging his fists on each occupied door. “Everyone, get out! Get out! We’re gonna be cut down!” He grappled in the dark for a button protruding from one side, and smacked it with a fist. An ear-splitting alarm pierced through the dark hall.
Almost instantly, a horde of groggy creatures emerged from their doors, gripping the hands of their children, and carrying their most precious belongings in bags. Descending the spiraling staircase in the dark. They moved swiftly and silently, yet they knew that everything they left behind could be destroyed.
Sam and Mack and a flood of anxious residents were almost to the ground level when a massive crack ran down the wooden walls as though they were being forcibly split apart. Some of the children began to cry at the deafening noise, their parents gathering them in their arms and their paws and their wings.
The crowd was shepherded down to the first level, where Mack uncovered a trap door under the rug in the lounge. He unlocked it and pulled it open, and people immediately began leaping down into a cellar that seemed to be even darker than before.
“This is below the ground. You’ll be safe here.” He reassured each parent and child and elder as they hurried down the stone steps. Sam and Mack waited until they were all huddled in the cellar before Sam was suddenly struck with a thought that would have plagued her earlier if she hadn’t been so frightened. Her dream. The Goddess would hunt her down and take her. The Goddess...this danger is all because of me! She was the reason why Ammil was going to lose everything--oh no.
“Where’s Ammil?”
“We can’t help her now. Get in here.” Mack’s voice was stern.
“I’ve already let her down. I have to make it up to her somehow. Please tell me where she is!” Sam’s voice began to choke up. “She’s gonna lose everything because of me. Please, Mack.” She felt herself sinking to her knees as if to beg.
Mack sighed. “She’s outside. But this is her fight. You can’t help ‘er.”
That was all Sam needed to hear. She vanished out the door and into the bitter snow, preparing herself for whatever she would find.

Wow! I really like this! I can’t wait to see what happens next.

 

[Amer]

This chapter was really hard for me to right, which is why it took so long to come out. I really need help, especially in the dialogue. More than one other character and it’s bland and also unrealistic.

Spoiler: Chapter 8

Chapter 8
Peregrine flew limp-winged through the forest, floating lazily on the wind that blew freely between the spaced-out pines, the space between him, and Pearl and Gia ever-widening. He saw a flash of red in the canopy overhead, and his heartbeat began to quicken.
Red canaries?
He peered at the spot where the bit of red had disappeared, but there were no red canaries to be seen. Still, he found that this tiny little affirmation was like a green light for him. He flew faster, closing the space between him and Gia and finding that perhaps that empty basket wasn’t so heavy after all. When he had caught up with his companions, they were already surrounded by a host of red canaries, chattering cheerfully, swooping between the trees.
“Gia! you’re back!”
“Who are these fledglings with you?”
“Do you have a mate?”
“But that’s forbidden!” Those were the types of things that Peregrine had heard. But if he had been paying attention, he would have noticed darker undertones to the cheerful chatter. Fearful whispers about recent attacks by aerial predators, questions about whether things would return to the ways of old, if ever. Questions that couldn’t be answered.
Peregrine was grateful for Pearl’s black cloak, or he certainly would have lost her in the scramble. She certainly wasn’t making it easy, as she zigzagged erratically, shouting greetings, explanations, and cheerful insults at her peers. He found that the red canaries were very hard to tell apart.
The whole group, consisting of about a dozen birds, seemed to form into a fleet, flying with a single mind, weaving between trees.
That’s when they finally reached the red canary huts which were hanging from the pine branches high from the ground or nestled in tree cavities. It was hard for Peregrine to imagine living here, where a fledgling had so much farther to fall to get to the ground. Maybe that’s why the birds were so few. Maybe all of their young smashed on the ground. It was apparent that it was about half the village that had escorted him there because now he saw the other dozen in the trees. If it could even be called a village when it was home to around two dozen birds.
One large male canary flew ahead of Pearl, and while the rest of the village dispersed in the trees, watching her, she followed him into a hollow in a tree. Gia and Peregrine took this as a cue to follow as well.
All that furnished the wooden room was a roost and a couple of baskets of berries, and Peregrine found it hard to task himself with his usual diversion of letting his eyes wander around the many objects that normally would fill a room.
He was too tired to look around anyway. He plopped on the floor and just focused on breathing for a while before he unstrapped his basket and listened to the conversation that Pearl and the other canary were having.
Gia looked ready to burst with questions. Why aren’t we even being introduced? Peregrine thought.
“...Where is Carrina? Is she well?” Pearl’s face was overwritten by an expression Peregrine had never seen before, an aberrant mixture of anxiety, hope, and sadness. Like she knew what the answer was going to be.
“Your mother is dead,” said the male canary. His face was impassive. “She was taken by a falcon.”
Peregrine saw that little bit of hope immediately drain out of Pearl’s face, and she pressed against the bigger canary like she was a hatchling pressing against her mother. “Oh,” she said. “I had hoped to see her again, you know?”
The moment was brief. Pearl quickly peeled away and put back on the face Peregrine was used to seeing, the one that didn’t know pain, the one that showed only anger, annoyance, or irony.
The male canary carried on as though Peregrine wasn’t there. “Yes, the B.O.P. attacks are horrible out here. And…”
“Who’s Carrina? And who are you?” Peregrine burst in. He’d never been very good at being polite.
“Yeah!” Gia said. “Me and Peregrine came all this way to meet the red canaries, and we haven’t gotten the chance to introduce ourselves to you!”
“Oh!” said the canary. “Well, Pearl told me your names. You’re Gia and Fal...sorry...Peregrine, two fledglings that begged her to take you here. My name is Needle. Carrina was Pearl’s mother, and I am her father.”
Peregrine was surprised by how different Needle and Zephyr were. He guessed that Carrina had died not long ago, but Needle seemed indifferent to her death. Zephyr still couldn’t get over her mates’ death a whole year later.
Gia seemed ready to ask another question, but Peregrine beat her. “Is this whole place a village? It’s not very big.”
“It’s a colony,” said Pearl. “Or it was supposed to be. It doesn’t seem big enough anymore.”
“No. It seems we lose birds every month. It’s a hard price to pay for freedom. Even though we do get to take mates, we still don’t feel like normal citizens. Because we aren’t the citizens of anything. We’re still strangers outside of the forest. We don’t have a currency to buy things with. We are hunted by the birds of prey. And our trades and civilization are being lost. The tradesbirds drop their trades to forage, build, and fill in the gaps. Those who haven’t already returned to the forest. We have no books. Our youngest generation is illiterate. Only in Willowbrush…” he trailed off, realizing that Peregrine was only a fledgling and most likely didn’t want to hear his declamations.
“What’s ‘Willowbrush’?” Peregrine asked.
“Willowbrush is a red canary city, west of the Canary Forest. There we practice trade. But the rest of us are scattered and we wish to return to the Canary Forest.”
“And I think you should! It’s not fair that only the black canaries have rights there!” Peregrine said. “We should do something about this!”
Gia was starting to get very impatient with Peregrine, he could tell by the way her tail wagged back and forth. She obviously wanted a chance to speak. “Do you know who my parents are? My parents are red canaries, but my egg was left with two black canaries, who adopted me.”
Needle clicked his beak together in a contemplative manner. Pearl was looking out the window. “Do you know the names of your parents, Gia?” he asked.
“No,” Gia said. “My mother—my adoptive mother—never told me.”
“Why didn’t she ever tell you?” Peregrine asked.
“I don’t know,” Gia’s eyes dropped to the floor.
“I will try to find your parents,” said Needle. “But I think we should put that matter aside. You have come a long way to get here, and travel is hungry work. You’re very lucky that I was about to have dinner.”
Peregrine perked up at this. Ever since he crossed the border, he’d been hoping someone would offer him food. Pearl seemed to be of the same mind. “That’s an excellent idea,” she said.
Needle opened up the baskets lying on the floor and the group shared the delicious berries, the mood lightening significantly. When they were done eating, Pearl decided to give them a grand tour of the “colony.”
“...And there’s my cousin Pria… My uncle Tanin…” The crowd of curious canaries around Peregrine was ever-increasing. He couldn’t help but notice how pretty they all were with nice red feathers. Too beautiful to be real.
Needle suddenly showed up beside them, followed by a nervous-looking red canary.
“H-Hello,” she stuttered, hovering near Gia. “I’m Laurel Weaver, your mother. Your real mother.”
Gia fell a couple of feet through the air before realizing she was supposed to be flying. Peregrine couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad. Shouldn’t she be happy?
“Why don’t you perch for a while?” Needle asked. “Do you want to be alone with her?”
“Peregrine can stay with me,” Gia said firmly. Needle nodded and flew away.
Laurel landed in the tree. Gia and Laurel were right next to each other, staring in silence.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Weaver!” Peregrine said cheerfully, landing behind Gia. Anyone who brought Gia into the world had to be just as brave and determined as she was, in his opinion.
“And it’s nice to meet you… What is your name?” Laurel asked.
“Peregrine,” he said. “It’s really great you got to meet your mother, Gia!”
Laurel nodded. Then she looked only at Gia, tensing up. “Gia,” she said. “You are beautiful.” She had this sort of hungry look in her face, like she wanted something she couldn’t have.
“Thank you,” Gia said. Peregrine knew this statement made her uncomfortable. Also, he didn’t exactly agree with the statement. Gia wasn’t beautiful. She was lanky and had those mottled brown feathers young canaries had. She was quite ordinary, at best.
Laurel hurriedly continued. “And I wanted to keep you with me very much. I am very sorry that I left you. But I am glad I did not. It’s dangerous to grow up out here.”
“It’s dangerous in the Canary Forest too,” Gia pointed out. Then she forced a grin. “But it’s good to be wanted.”
Laurel was quiet for a moment. “Your father is now dead, like so many of the others. He was a good bird. But you are fortunate to grow up in the Forest. You never had to experience the loss.”
The silence felt like a fog, filling the space between them.
Peregrine thought no one would ever speak when Gia thrust her way through the fog of silence by throwing her neck over Laurel’s shoulder. To Peregrine it seemed like another of her brave, careless actions, just as brave as battling an owl. Maybe actions really do speak louder than words. “Don’t feel guilty about leaving me behind,” Gia said. “I’m really glad I got to meet you, even though I never got to meet my Dad. I’m real sorry about him, but I never really knew him personally, so I’m okay about that.”
Laurel relaxed. “I’m glad about that. I’ve always worried about you.” Peregrine thought she looked like a great burden had fallen from her.
Peregrine had that anxious feeling again, like he was invading something private. He really felt like escaping. Peregrine was also getting very annoyed. By the general state of the world. He flew to the other side of the tree just to yell. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to, so he yelled into the space where many canaries were still flitting about.
“Why do mothers and daughter have to be separated? Why don’t you all just go back to the Forest? It’s only fair. Red canaries should be able to take mates just like the rest of us. They should get to buy things and trade. They should be allowed to rule. Something should be done!” No one seemed to notice, and Peregrine was kind of glad of this, because, in aftersight, it sounded pretty silly yelling all those words to no one in particular. He was starting to relax when he was startled by a voice coming from a tree across from his.
“Those are dangerous words,” said the voice. “Ones I once said myself.”
Peregrine peered into the pine across from the one he sat in. Carefully nestled between the needles was a cloaked figure. He had a silver pin that glinted in the sunlight, pinning his cloak, but perhaps even more notable was that here in a colony of red canaries was a canary as black as ink.
He fluttered down beside Peregrine. Peregrine stared at the strange swirl of silver on his breast.
“You’re probably wondering just what this is. Most of the canaries in this ‘colony,’” and here he made quotes with his primaries, somewhat unsuccessfully, “come from Oakland.”
“Hey! Oakland is my village!” Peregrine said. “Wait, that actually makes sense, considering that Pearl’s family lives here.” Maybe that’s not a surprise at all, and more of something I should have already realized.
The canary nodded patiently. “But I’m an ex-Senator, a member of the Canary Legislation, straight from Falcon Nest.”
“Falcon Nest is the capital of the canary forest! You come from the Capitol?” Peregrine asked. “I never met anyone from there before.”
“Yes, Oakland is pretty far from Falcon Nest. Anyways, I asked the same questions as you did. When they encouraged the slaughter of red canaries, I spoke adamantly against it. I had a red canary sweetheart, you see. But she was murdered, and I was kicked off of the lawmaking body. Instead of staying in the forest, I moved to this colony as a show of solidarity with the red canaries.”
“Even though you had so much power, you couldn’t even get them to change a law…” Peregrine said.
“I didn’t have that much power,” said the ex-Senator. “I don’t think anyone can change their mind by being one of them. They can always kick you out then. Just have to make up a convincing enough scandal.” He laughed just a little too maniacally about this for Peregrine to be totally comfortable. “If you show up as a citizen, however, then they can’t kick you out. Well, if you’re a black canary, anyways. A red canary would only put herself in danger.”
“Wait…” said Peregrine. “How do you know that I am a black canary?”
The bird pointed his beak at Peregrine’s chest, where a fresh black feather had grown in. Wow, my new feather came even more quickly than Gia’s have! “The world needs a young new face. If you spoke those same things up in Falcon Nest, know that I would back you up.”
“No one’s offered to back me up before,” Peregrine said. “I didn’t even say I was going to do anything. I don’t even know who you are”
“But you will do something. I’ve never met anyone with as many questions and such a passion as yourself since I met Beryl. My name is Feron, by the way.”
“Who’s Beryl?” Peregrine asked.
“She was a very brave red canary. Very much like yourself.”
“But Gia’s the red canary, not me!” Peregrine squeaked. “And she’s a lot braver, too! So really, it’s Gia who’s like Beryl, not me.”
“Is Gia the spitfire fledgling who’s traveling with you? A whole lot like Pearl? If so, don’t think so. Gia is very brave and passionate, but you are very brave too, more than you think. Even if you are a bit selfish and oblivious.”
“Thank you,” said Peregrine, with as much sarcasm as a “selfish and oblivious” fledgling could muster.
“But Gia doesn’t ask all the questions. And I think you, more so than her, are more sensitive to others’ feelings. It’s not the color of the feathers that gives you your personality. It’s how you act.”
“How do you even know all this about me?” Peregrine asked.
“Well, first of all, reading you is like reading a book. And second, I’ve met your type before.” Whatever that was supposed to mean.
“What were you doing spying on us birds?” Peregrine asked.
“Force of habit,” grinned Feron. “Now, if you excuse me, I haven’t had dinner yet.” He flew away.
“Creepo,” Peregrine muttered. Still, it was kind of exciting to have some stranger supporting him in a quest he didn’t even know he was going to do. He had to tell Gia.
When he met Gia, she was deep in conversation with her mother, telling her about her life and asking about life in the colony.
When Peregrine finally got to tell Gia about Feron they were already roosting in Needle’s place. Gia shrugged it off. “He’s probably just being condescending. Adults do it all the time.”
“It wasn’t like that, though. It’s like he knew who I was,” Peregrine.
“Now THAT,” Gia said, “is utterly creepy.”
“Yeah,” Peregrine agreed. When he fell asleep, he dreamed of flying forever, though he didn’t know where he was going.

 

[RoostersAreAwesome]

This chapter was really hard for me to right, which is why it took so long to come out. I really need help, especially in the dialogue. More than one other character and it’s bland and also unrealistic.

Spoiler: Chapter 8

Chapter 8
Peregrine flew limp-winged through the forest, floating lazily on the wind that blew freely between the spaced-out pines, the space between him, and Pearl and Gia ever-widening. He saw a flash of red in the canopy overhead, and his heartbeat began to quicken.
Red canaries?
He peered at the spot where the bit of red had disappeared, but there were no red canaries to be seen. Still, he found that this tiny little affirmation was like a green light for him. He flew faster, closing the space between him and Gia and finding that perhaps that empty basket wasn’t so heavy after all. When he had caught up with his companions, they were already surrounded by a host of red canaries, chattering cheerfully, swooping between the trees.
“Gia! you’re back!”
“Who are these fledglings with you?”
“Do you have a mate?”
“But that’s forbidden!” Those were the types of things that Peregrine had heard. But if he had been paying attention, he would have noticed darker undertones to the cheerful chatter. Fearful whispers about recent attacks by aerial predators, questions about whether things would return to the ways of old, if ever. Questions that couldn’t be answered.
Peregrine was grateful for Pearl’s black cloak, or he certainly would have lost her in the scramble. She certainly wasn’t making it easy, as she zigzagged erratically, shouting greetings, explanations, and cheerful insults at her peers. He found that the red canaries were very hard to tell apart.
The whole group, consisting of about a dozen birds, seemed to form into a fleet, flying with a single mind, weaving between trees.
That’s when they finally reached the red canary huts which were hanging from the pine branches high from the ground or nestled in tree cavities. It was hard for Peregrine to imagine living here, where a fledgling had so much farther to fall to get to the ground. Maybe that’s why the birds were so few. Maybe all of their young smashed on the ground. It was apparent that it was about half the village that had escorted him there because now he saw the other dozen in the trees. If it could even be called a village when it was home to around two dozen birds.
One large male canary flew ahead of Pearl, and while the rest of the village dispersed in the trees, watching her, she followed him into a hollow in a tree. Gia and Peregrine took this as a cue to follow as well.
All that furnished the wooden room was a roost and a couple of baskets of berries, and Peregrine found it hard to task himself with his usual diversion of letting his eyes wander around the many objects that normally would fill a room.
He was too tired to look around anyway. He plopped on the floor and just focused on breathing for a while before he unstrapped his basket and listened to the conversation that Pearl and the other canary were having.
Gia looked ready to burst with questions. Why aren’t we even being introduced? Peregrine thought.
“...Where is Carrina? Is she well?” Pearl’s face was overwritten by an expression Peregrine had never seen before, an aberrant mixture of anxiety, hope, and sadness. Like she knew what the answer was going to be.
“Your mother is dead,” said the male canary. His face was impassive. “She was taken by a falcon.”
Peregrine saw that little bit of hope immediately drain out of Pearl’s face, and she pressed against the bigger canary like she was a hatchling pressing against her mother. “Oh,” she said. “I had hoped to see her again, you know?”
The moment was brief. Pearl quickly peeled away and put back on the face Peregrine was used to seeing, the one that didn’t know pain, the one that showed only anger, annoyance, or irony.
The male canary carried on as though Peregrine wasn’t there. “Yes, the B.O.P. attacks are horrible out here. And…”
“Who’s Carrina? And who are you?” Peregrine burst in. He’d never been very good at being polite.
“Yeah!” Gia said. “Me and Peregrine came all this way to meet the red canaries, and we haven’t gotten the chance to introduce ourselves to you!”
“Oh!” said the canary. “Well, Pearl told me your names. You’re Gia and Fal...sorry...Peregrine, two fledglings that begged her to take you here. My name is Needle. Carrina was Pearl’s mother, and I am her father.”
Peregrine was surprised by how different Needle and Zephyr were. He guessed that Carrina had died not long ago, but Needle seemed indifferent to her death. Zephyr still couldn’t get over her mates’ death a whole year later.
Gia seemed ready to ask another question, but Peregrine beat her. “Is this whole place a village? It’s not very big.”
“It’s a colony,” said Pearl. “Or it was supposed to be. It doesn’t seem big enough anymore.”
“No. It seems we lose birds every month. It’s a hard price to pay for freedom. Even though we do get to take mates, we still don’t feel like normal citizens. Because we aren’t the citizens of anything. We’re still strangers outside of the forest. We don’t have a currency to buy things with. We are hunted by the birds of prey. And our trades and civilization are being lost. The tradesbirds drop their trades to forage, build, and fill in the gaps. Those who haven’t already returned to the forest. We have no books. Our youngest generation is illiterate. Only in Willowbrush…” he trailed off, realizing that Peregrine was only a fledgling and most likely didn’t want to hear his declamations.
“What’s ‘Willowbrush’?” Peregrine asked.
“Willowbrush is a red canary city, west of the Canary Forest. There we practice trade. But the rest of us are scattered and we wish to return to the Canary Forest.”
“And I think you should! It’s not fair that only the black canaries have rights there!” Peregrine said. “We should do something about this!”
Gia was starting to get very impatient with Peregrine, he could tell by the way her tail wagged back and forth. She obviously wanted a chance to speak. “Do you know who my parents are? My parents are red canaries, but my egg was left with two black canaries, who adopted me.”
Needle clicked his beak together in a contemplative manner. Pearl was looking out the window. “Do you know the names of your parents, Gia?” he asked.
“No,” Gia said. “My mother—my adoptive mother—never told me.”
“Why didn’t she ever tell you?” Peregrine asked.
“I don’t know,” Gia’s eyes dropped to the floor.
“I will try to find your parents,” said Needle. “But I think we should put that matter aside. You have come a long way to get here, and travel is hungry work. You’re very lucky that I was about to have dinner.”
Peregrine perked up at this. Ever since he crossed the border, he’d been hoping someone would offer him food. Pearl seemed to be of the same mind. “That’s an excellent idea,” she said.
Needle opened up the baskets lying on the floor and the group shared the delicious berries, the mood lightening significantly. When they were done eating, Pearl decided to give them a grand tour of the “colony.”
“...And there’s my cousin Pria… My uncle Tanin…” The crowd of curious canaries around Peregrine was ever-increasing. He couldn’t help but notice how pretty they all were with nice red feathers. Too beautiful to be real.
Needle suddenly showed up beside them, followed by a nervous-looking red canary.
“H-Hello,” she stuttered, hovering near Gia. “I’m Laurel Weaver, your mother. Your real mother.”
Gia fell a couple of feet through the air before realizing she was supposed to be flying. Peregrine couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad. Shouldn’t she be happy?
“Why don’t you perch for a while?” Needle asked. “Do you want to be alone with her?”
“Peregrine can stay with me,” Gia said firmly. Needle nodded and flew away.
Laurel landed in the tree. Gia and Laurel were right next to each other, staring in silence.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Weaver!” Peregrine said cheerfully, landing behind Gia. Anyone who brought Gia into the world had to be just as brave and determined as she was, in his opinion.
“And it’s nice to meet you… What is your name?” Laurel asked.
“Peregrine,” he said. “It’s really great you got to meet your mother, Gia!”
Laurel nodded. Then she looked only at Gia, tensing up. “Gia,” she said. “You are beautiful.” She had this sort of hungry look in her face, like she wanted something she couldn’t have.
“Thank you,” Gia said. Peregrine knew this statement made her uncomfortable. Also, he didn’t exactly agree with the statement. Gia wasn’t beautiful. She was lanky and had those mottled brown feathers young canaries had. She was quite ordinary, at best.
Laurel hurriedly continued. “And I wanted to keep you with me very much. I am very sorry that I left you. But I am glad I did not. It’s dangerous to grow up out here.”
“It’s dangerous in the Canary Forest too,” Gia pointed out. Then she forced a grin. “But it’s good to be wanted.”
Laurel was quiet for a moment. “Your father is now dead, like so many of the others. He was a good bird. But you are fortunate to grow up in the Forest. You never had to experience the loss.”
The silence felt like a fog, filling the space between them.
Peregrine thought no one would ever speak when Gia thrust her way through the fog of silence by throwing her neck over Laurel’s shoulder. To Peregrine it seemed like another of her brave, careless actions, just as brave as battling an owl. Maybe actions really do speak louder than words. “Don’t feel guilty about leaving me behind,” Gia said. “I’m really glad I got to meet you, even though I never got to meet my Dad. I’m real sorry about him, but I never really knew him personally, so I’m okay about that.”
Laurel relaxed. “I’m glad about that. I’ve always worried about you.” Peregrine thought she looked like a great burden had fallen from her.
Peregrine had that anxious feeling again, like he was invading something private. He really felt like escaping. Peregrine was also getting very annoyed. By the general state of the world. He flew to the other side of the tree just to yell. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to, so he yelled into the space where many canaries were still flitting about.
“Why do mothers and daughter have to be separated? Why don’t you all just go back to the Forest? It’s only fair. Red canaries should be able to take mates just like the rest of us. They should get to buy things and trade. They should be allowed to rule. Something should be done!” No one seemed to notice, and Peregrine was kind of glad of this, because, in aftersight, it sounded pretty silly yelling all those words to no one in particular. He was starting to relax when he was startled by a voice coming from a tree across from his.
“Those are dangerous words,” said the voice. “Ones I once said myself.”
Peregrine peered into the pine across from the one he sat in. Carefully nestled between the needles was a cloaked figure. He had a silver pin that glinted in the sunlight, pinning his cloak, but perhaps even more notable was that here in a colony of red canaries was a canary as black as ink.
He fluttered down beside Peregrine. Peregrine stared at the strange swirl of silver on his breast.
“You’re probably wondering just what this is. Most of the canaries in this ‘colony,’” and here he made quotes with his primaries, somewhat unsuccessfully, “come from Oakland.”
“Hey! Oakland is my village!” Peregrine said. “Wait, that actually makes sense, considering that Pearl’s family lives here.” Maybe that’s not a surprise at all, and more of something I should have already realized.
The canary nodded patiently. “But I’m an ex-Senator, a member of the Canary Legislation, straight from Falcon Nest.”
“Falcon Nest is the capital of the canary forest! You come from the Capitol?” Peregrine asked. “I never met anyone from there before.”
“Yes, Oakland is pretty far from Falcon Nest. Anyways, I asked the same questions as you did. When they encouraged the slaughter of red canaries, I spoke adamantly against it. I had a red canary sweetheart, you see. But she was murdered, and I was kicked off of the lawmaking body. Instead of staying in the forest, I moved to this colony as a show of solidarity with the red canaries.”
“Even though you had so much power, you couldn’t even get them to change a law…” Peregrine said.
“I didn’t have that much power,” said the ex-Senator. “I don’t think anyone can change their mind by being one of them. They can always kick you out then. Just have to make up a convincing enough scandal.” He laughed just a little too maniacally about this for Peregrine to be totally comfortable. “If you show up as a citizen, however, then they can’t kick you out. Well, if you’re a black canary, anyways. A red canary would only put herself in danger.”
“Wait…” said Peregrine. “How do you know that I am a black canary?”
The bird pointed his beak at Peregrine’s chest, where a fresh black feather had grown in. Wow, my new feather came even more quickly than Gia’s have! “The world needs a young new face. If you spoke those same things up in Falcon Nest, know that I would back you up.”
“No one’s offered to back me up before,” Peregrine said. “I didn’t even say I was going to do anything. I don’t even know who you are”
“But you will do something. I’ve never met anyone with as many questions and such a passion as yourself since I met Beryl. My name is Feron, by the way.”
“Who’s Beryl?” Peregrine asked.
“She was a very brave red canary. Very much like yourself.”
“But Gia’s the red canary, not me!” Peregrine squeaked. “And she’s a lot braver, too! So really, it’s Gia who’s like Beryl, not me.”
“Is Gia the spitfire fledgling who’s traveling with you? A whole lot like Pearl? If so, don’t think so. Gia is very brave and passionate, but you are very brave too, more than you think. Even if you are a bit selfish and oblivious.”
“Thank you,” said Peregrine, with as much sarcasm as a “selfish and oblivious” fledgling could muster.
“But Gia doesn’t ask all the questions. And I think you, more so than her, are more sensitive to others’ feelings. It’s not the color of the feathers that gives you your personality. It’s how you act.”
“How do you even know all this about me?” Peregrine asked.
“Well, first of all, reading you is like reading a book. And second, I’ve met your type before.” Whatever that was supposed to mean.
“What were you doing spying on us birds?” Peregrine asked.
“Force of habit,” grinned Feron. “Now, if you excuse me, I haven’t had dinner yet.” He flew away.
“Creepo,” Peregrine muttered. Still, it was kind of exciting to have some stranger supporting him in a quest he didn’t even know he was going to do. He had to tell Gia.
When he met Gia, she was deep in conversation with her mother, telling her about her life and asking about life in the colony.
When Peregrine finally got to tell Gia about Feron they were already roosting in Needle’s place. Gia shrugged it off. “He’s probably just being condescending. Adults do it all the time.”
“It wasn’t like that, though. It’s like he knew who I was,” Peregrine.
“Now THAT,” Gia said, “is utterly creepy.”
“Yeah,” Peregrine agreed. When he fell asleep, he dreamed of flying forever, though he didn’t know where he was going.

Maybe try to slow down and add more description/feeling? You could split some of those longer sentences into multiple smaller ones. I’ve found that I can improve my writing by separating big paragraphs and dialogue into smaller pieces, but that might just be my preference. Are you going for a more show-not-tell sort of thing?
Also, great writing, by the way. I envy the way you’re able to write new material so quickly/easily. XD

 

[Amer]

Maybe try to slow down and add more description/feeling? You could split some of those longer sentences into multiple smaller ones. I’ve found that I can improve my writing by separating big paragraphs and dialogue into smaller pieces, but that might just be my preference. Are you going for a more show-not-tell sort of thing?
Also, great writing, by the way. I envy the way you’re able to write new material so quickly/easily. XD

Quickly? Easily? No, this chapter is not quick or easy. Yeah, I’m trying for show-don’t-tell, since it has an unreliable narrator, but I will do some more description and feeling, since Peregrine does that.
And segmentation. Will do that. Thanks! This is helpful.

 

[RoostersAreAwesome]

Quickly? Easily? No, this chapter is not quick or easy. Yeah, I’m trying for show-don’t-tell, since it has an unreliable narrator, but I will do some more description and feeling, since Peregrine does that.
And segmentation. Will do that. Thanks! This is helpful.

No problem. By “quickly/easily” I mean you can actually write more than one chapter and don’t go months without writing. That’s what I do. XD
Oh, and I can’t really help with show-don’t-tell, since I pretty much do the opposite. I need to improve on that.

 

[Amer]

No problem. By “quickly/easily” I mean you can actually write more than one chapter and don’t go months without writing. That’s what I do. XD
Oh, and I can’t really help with show-don’t-tell, since I pretty much do the opposite. I need to improve on that.

It’s been TWO WEEKS
too long
I just forced myself to finish it, or the story would die right there.
Well, I don’t know that I do that... I too do the opposite. I’m trying to avoid telling what other birds are thinking and what’s going on behind the scenes though because this is Peregrine’s perspective.

 

[RoostersAreAwesome]

It’s been TWO WEEKS
too long
I just forced myself to finish it, or the story would die right there.
Well, I don’t know that I do that... I too do the opposite. I’m trying to avoid telling what other birds are thinking and what’s going on behind the scenes though because this is Peregrine’s perspective.

Two weeks is very quick to me.