- Thread starter
- #131
- Thread starter
- #132
DUDE PEPE IS MY NEW FAVORITE CHARACTER
Gale
It was one of those days where hopeful kids are disappointed by the measly two inches, and have to pile into the bus with unhappy frowns on their faces. And you have to shovel that tiny bit of snow off the driveway. And the parents might have trouble starting their cars if they got a British one, because in Britain it mostly just rains. And it definitely doesn't snow there in October. It snowed. In October.
In the forest, most were prepared for this. But for the new animals in the neighborhood, dread descended upon them like an eagle stealing a fish from a poor little osprey, or all the leaves that were still drifting peacefully to the ground, not troubled by the change around them.
"See, it gets colder every year," said an old rooster. "You were born in April, weren't you, lass," he patted the head of a black and gold pullet. "We were so worried about losing you in that storm."
Gale shivered. No one would ever forget it. "But that was different, we were in our coop then. Now we are here." Gale remembered the day she was turned out of the coop, all of them were turned out of the coop, and the farmer never returned.
"None of us are prepared for this," her older brother Aaron said quietly.
The snow beneath was almost untouchably beautiful, but that wasn’t the reason the chickens were reluctant to hop in. They weren’t prepared for it, and it looked as cold as their future, though a great deal brighter.
"We weren't prepared for that time we left our coop either," Cadbury said. "We can survive the winter." Gale admired her determination. Cadbury was the same age as her, and had never seen a winter as well. Chocolate colored feathers were puffed up as the Orpington defiantly stared at the snow.
The chickens all wondered what was in for them, but knew that they could face it. "We will not only survive, we will thrive," Cadbury said with a finality. Aaron nodded solemnly, and Gale wondered if she could have the bravery of Cadbury, who had already jumped down from the roost, beckoning. And then she realised she could, and ran after her into the fresh fallen snow.
Donna Dominique
They had been searching for a new place to live for a while, noting berry bushes, except, they couldn’t find any.
The snow was melting in the heat of the day. The clean, white appearance of it was marred by debris and leaves falling from the trees above. Still, the need to prepare for the coming winter was evident. Loud footsteps crashed through bush some distance away. Obviously, the creature making these sounds thought it was big enough to deal with anything that decided to hinder it. A rooster prepared to alarm the flock, but Donna the bantam Dominique shushed him by covering his mouth with a wing. “I would recognise that gait anywhere.”
Donna fearlessly strode into the clearing. “Pepe!” she cried, throwing out her wings.
Pepe was a large bronze tom who looked just like a wild turkey, if a wild turkey were to consume a whole decently sized watermelon. “Donna!” he said, with his high pitched, musical turkey voice lifting her up with his wings.
Her tiny frame looked fragile in contrast to the enormous turkey, framed against the sky. He gently set her down.
“Look at you!” she said. “Where have you been?”
“The flock lives a ways north of here. I just found out that your flock lived was kicked out today, so I came right away. Such a shame,” he said.
“Well it’s not fair that you had to leave home either,” Donna said.
“And I owe you a million for saving my life that day,” said Pepe.
“That’s what friends are for,” Donna said.
Two years ago, in the spring, Donna Dominique had first made friends with Pepe the turkey poult. She was just a pullet then, young and rebellious. All of the chickens knew he was going to be eaten. Every turkey on that farm was eaten. But they never told the turkeys that. Donna decided to tell Pepe, but not without a plan. One night, she sent him to a flock of turkeys in the woods. She had never seen him since, but often wondered how he was faring. She couldn’t even be sure he was still alive. He could have been hunted, and what a prize he would have been. She couldn’t imagine a wild stag ever to be quite his proportions.
“Anyways, I think you chickens could use a little lesson from the wild turkeys. Lend an ear would ya’?” he said with a wink. The other members of the flock came closer.
“Us turkeys don’t live in this neck of the woods for a reason.” Pepe said. “There are less sources of food, and in the winter, you need to eat more, to stay warm.” He said matter of factly. “Old growth forests don’t have much. You wouldn’t know it, but my flock says that a couple decades ago, their forest was aflame. Now it’s all growing all over the place. The trees aren’t as tall though. That’s how the berry bushes get their proper sunlight.”
“We can’t survive where the deep snow is, so we stay on the south side of hills. Hemlocks are very useful. They shield the ground. Normally oaks make the best roosting places, but in bad weather, head for some conifer trees.” (Some birds were surprised that someone of his size could make it off the ground.) “And lastly, cornfields and apple trees produce a lot of the food turkeys eat during the winter.”
Pepe’s face turned blue and red, he was proud of the knowledge he’d gained after becoming a wild turkey.
“Do you think your flock would let us in?” asked Habanero, the lead rooster. He was impressed by Pepe’s knowledge, and kind of glad this walking survival encyclopedia hadn’t become Thanksgiving.
“I don’t think they would want some chickens in their flock, but I could be your guide. I don’t quite fit in anyways,” Pepe said as if it didn’t bother him. And who was to say it did?
“Yes, I think I would like that very much,” Habanero said...
Gale
It was one of those days where hopeful kids are disappointed by the measly two inches, and have to pile into the bus with unhappy frowns on their faces. And you have to shovel that tiny bit of snow off the driveway. And the parents might have trouble starting their cars if they got a British one, because in Britain it mostly just rains. And it definitely doesn't snow there in October. It snowed. In October.
In the forest, most were prepared for this. But for the new animals in the neighborhood, dread descended upon them like an eagle stealing a fish from a poor little osprey, or all the leaves that were still drifting peacefully to the ground, not troubled by the change around them.
"See, it gets colder every year," said an old rooster. "You were born in April, weren't you, lass," he patted the head of a black and gold pullet. "We were so worried about losing you in that storm."
Gale shivered. No one would ever forget it. "But that was different, we were in our coop then. Now we are here." Gale remembered the day she was turned out of the coop, all of them were turned out of the coop, and the farmer never returned.
"None of us are prepared for this," her older brother Aaron said quietly.
The snow beneath was almost untouchably beautiful, but that wasn’t the reason the chickens were reluctant to hop in. They weren’t prepared for it, and it looked as cold as their future, though a great deal brighter.
"We weren't prepared for that time we left our coop either," Cadbury said. "We can survive the winter." Gale admired her determination. Cadbury was the same age as her, and had never seen a winter as well. Chocolate colored feathers were puffed up as the Orpington defiantly stared at the snow.
The chickens all wondered what was in for them, but knew that they could face it. "We will not only survive, we will thrive," Cadbury said with a finality. Aaron nodded solemnly, and Gale wondered if she could have the bravery of Cadbury, who had already jumped down from the roost, beckoning. And then she realised she could, and ran after her into the fresh fallen snow.
Donna Dominique
They had been searching for a new place to live for a while, noting berry bushes, except, they couldn’t find any.
The snow was melting in the heat of the day. The clean, white appearance of it was marred by debris and leaves falling from the trees above. Still, the need to prepare for the coming winter was evident. Loud footsteps crashed through bush some distance away. Obviously, the creature making these sounds thought it was big enough to deal with anything that decided to hinder it. A rooster prepared to alarm the flock, but Donna the bantam Dominique shushed him by covering his mouth with a wing. “I would recognise that gait anywhere.”
Donna fearlessly strode into the clearing. “Pepe!” she cried, throwing out her wings.
Pepe was a large bronze tom who looked just like a wild turkey, if a wild turkey were to consume a whole decently sized watermelon. “Donna!” he said, with his high pitched, musical turkey voice lifting her up with his wings.
Her tiny frame looked fragile in contrast to the enormous turkey, framed against the sky. He gently set her down.
“Look at you!” she said. “Where have you been?”
“The flock lives a ways north of here. I just found out that your flock lived was kicked out today, so I came right away. Such a shame,” he said.
“Well it’s not fair that you had to leave home either,” Donna said.
“And I owe you a million for saving my life that day,” said Pepe.
“That’s what friends are for,” Donna said.
Two years ago, in the spring, Donna Dominique had first made friends with Pepe the turkey poult. She was just a pullet then, young and rebellious. All of the chickens knew he was going to be eaten. Every turkey on that farm was eaten. But they never told the turkeys that. Donna decided to tell Pepe, but not without a plan. One night, she sent him to a flock of turkeys in the woods. She had never seen him since, but often wondered how he was faring. She couldn’t even be sure he was still alive. He could have been hunted, and what a prize he would have been. She couldn’t imagine a wild stag ever to be quite his proportions.
“Anyways, I think you chickens could use a little lesson from the wild turkeys. Lend an ear would ya’?” he said with a wink. The other members of the flock came closer.
“Us turkeys don’t live in this neck of the woods for a reason.” Pepe said. “There are less sources of food, and in the winter, you need to eat more, to stay warm.” He said matter of factly. “Old growth forests don’t have much. You wouldn’t know it, but my flock says that a couple decades ago, their forest was aflame. Now it’s all growing all over the place. The trees aren’t as tall though. That’s how the berry bushes get their proper sunlight.”
“We can’t survive where the deep snow is, so we stay on the south side of hills. Hemlocks are very useful. They shield the ground. Normally oaks make the best roosting places, but in bad weather, head for some conifer trees.” (Some birds were surprised that someone of his size could make it off the ground.) “And lastly, cornfields and apple trees produce a lot of the food turkeys eat during the winter.”
Pepe’s face turned blue and red, he was proud of the knowledge he’d gained after becoming a wild turkey.
“Do you think your flock would let us in?” asked Habanero, the lead rooster. He was impressed by Pepe’s knowledge, and kind of glad this walking survival encyclopedia hadn’t become Thanksgiving.
“I don’t think they would want some chickens in their flock, but I could be your guide. I don’t quite fit in anyways,” Pepe said as if it didn’t bother him. And who was to say it did?
“Yes, I think I would like that very much,” Habanero said...
Last edited:
- Thread starter
- #133
- Thread starter
- #134
Alana’s Backpacking Trip
Alana bounced in her seat as she struggled to readjust the earbuds connected haphazardly to her phone, the cord chewed so many times by her cats that the wiring was exposed and the music inaudible. She knew she would miss the little beasts soon. Because she was going on a backpacking trip. She ran her thumb over the myriad of cracks on the screen on her phone, thinking about what the backpacks would look like, and how it would feel camping in the woods for the first time. She continued to wrestle with the cord, but no matter what exact angle she twisted it into, no sound would come out.
Alana tossed her phone across the backseat in frustration when she realized there was no way she was going to coax sound out of the earbuds. The phone hit the seat with a sickening thud, but it was already beyond saving. The screen was always off-center and the apps closed beyond her will.
That is one thing I am not going to miss, thought Alana with a sigh. She watched the trees swing madly in and out of her focus with the frenzied motion of the van. One more minute… she thought, as the van made a near miss with a spruce. The luggage tumbled around in the trunk and Alana wondered how many of the Nutri Grain bars in her suitcase had been crushed.
“It’s not my fault!” shouted her mother in an unnecessarily loud voice. “The steering on this thing is horrible!” The van careened down twisting gravel roads and pulled into a small gravel lot surrounded by regal pines. In front of it was a low building labeled “Adventure Trips” crouched in front of it was a trailer and a long white van with a “Lake Carolyn” decal on the side.
Alana struggled with the locking mechanism on the door and winced as she slammed it shut. It had made a very hollow clunking noise. She assumed it was broken again.
Alana’s mother opened the trunk and piled luggage into Alana’s arms. Alana gasped as she suddenly was burdened with all of the weight.
Some luggage tumbled onto the ground and Alana struggled to pick it up. As she did so, she dropped the rest of the luggage. As she gathered up all of her things, Alana felt someone's eyes on the back of her neck. She finally grabbed the stuff and stood up, grinning hysterically. But Alana felt her face flush.
"Hi," she said brightly, grinning even wider. Her second molars were now visible. "I'm Alana." She held out a hand to her peer but thought better of it when she realized her pillow was tumbling. She retracted her hand and steadied it.
The other girl looked over her critically. "I'm Jane," she said, fingering her brown hair and raising an eyebrow."You can't have three people to a tent, and all four of my cousins have each other. So I have to find somebody else. Do you want to be my tent partner?"
"Well sure. Of course!" said Alana brightly. She almost squealed with delight. Finding friends wasn't as hard as she had thought.
"Good," said Jane. "Well, got that taken care of, see ya," she said rubbing her hands together. She pointed at a foursome of chattering girls. "Those are my cousins, I'm going to go talk to them."
She strode off, leaving Alana standing there on the short dirt path to the "Adventure Trips" building. Alana dropped her stuff with a thud and looked with longing upon Jane as she prattled to her cousins.
Making friends isn't going to be as easy as I thought, she realized.
Just a short first chapter for a school project. Realistic fiction. Halp me out
Alana bounced in her seat as she struggled to readjust the earbuds connected haphazardly to her phone, the cord chewed so many times by her cats that the wiring was exposed and the music inaudible. She knew she would miss the little beasts soon. Because she was going on a backpacking trip. She ran her thumb over the myriad of cracks on the screen on her phone, thinking about what the backpacks would look like, and how it would feel camping in the woods for the first time. She continued to wrestle with the cord, but no matter what exact angle she twisted it into, no sound would come out.
Alana tossed her phone across the backseat in frustration when she realized there was no way she was going to coax sound out of the earbuds. The phone hit the seat with a sickening thud, but it was already beyond saving. The screen was always off-center and the apps closed beyond her will.
That is one thing I am not going to miss, thought Alana with a sigh. She watched the trees swing madly in and out of her focus with the frenzied motion of the van. One more minute… she thought, as the van made a near miss with a spruce. The luggage tumbled around in the trunk and Alana wondered how many of the Nutri Grain bars in her suitcase had been crushed.
“It’s not my fault!” shouted her mother in an unnecessarily loud voice. “The steering on this thing is horrible!” The van careened down twisting gravel roads and pulled into a small gravel lot surrounded by regal pines. In front of it was a low building labeled “Adventure Trips” crouched in front of it was a trailer and a long white van with a “Lake Carolyn” decal on the side.
Alana struggled with the locking mechanism on the door and winced as she slammed it shut. It had made a very hollow clunking noise. She assumed it was broken again.
Alana’s mother opened the trunk and piled luggage into Alana’s arms. Alana gasped as she suddenly was burdened with all of the weight.
Some luggage tumbled onto the ground and Alana struggled to pick it up. As she did so, she dropped the rest of the luggage. As she gathered up all of her things, Alana felt someone's eyes on the back of her neck. She finally grabbed the stuff and stood up, grinning hysterically. But Alana felt her face flush.
"Hi," she said brightly, grinning even wider. Her second molars were now visible. "I'm Alana." She held out a hand to her peer but thought better of it when she realized her pillow was tumbling. She retracted her hand and steadied it.
The other girl looked over her critically. "I'm Jane," she said, fingering her brown hair and raising an eyebrow."You can't have three people to a tent, and all four of my cousins have each other. So I have to find somebody else. Do you want to be my tent partner?"
"Well sure. Of course!" said Alana brightly. She almost squealed with delight. Finding friends wasn't as hard as she had thought.
"Good," said Jane. "Well, got that taken care of, see ya," she said rubbing her hands together. She pointed at a foursome of chattering girls. "Those are my cousins, I'm going to go talk to them."
She strode off, leaving Alana standing there on the short dirt path to the "Adventure Trips" building. Alana dropped her stuff with a thud and looked with longing upon Jane as she prattled to her cousins.
Making friends isn't going to be as easy as I thought, she realized.
Just a short first chapter for a school project. Realistic fiction. Halp me out
- Thread starter
- #135
OldEnglishGameBantam33
Free Ranging
No one is responding. should we post a different pic?
- Thread starter
- #137
OldEnglishGameBantam33
Free Ranging
ok! 
you know me! It's Daisy free ranging!
you know me! It's Daisy free ranging!
- Thread starter
- #139
I meant an illustration, but that might work.
OldEnglishGameBantam33
Free Ranging
oh. ok.
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