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Red Snow: Chapter ThreeStanding before him was a small girl. Tears coated her face. A Kaplana, one of the Nokkela or animal people, Breen was confused, the Kaplana were supposed to be extinct. He shook his head to clear it, where was Aren?
"Answer me...answer me," the girl half sobbed,"or..." she stepped to the side to show Breen that Aren was bound, wounded, and weaponless, "I will gut him." As she spoke, her face hardened.
" I..I...I" Breen stuttered, knowing that a wrong answer would mean certian death for Aren and possible death for himself. " I did nae know..."
"Why then did thy sound the bell?" The Kaplana extended her claws.
" It was a dare," Aren rasped, "we did nae realize that the stories were true."
"Stories..." she wispered then her voice rose to a shout. "Stories! Is that what we are now?! Stories?!"
Red Snow: Chapter TwoSomething dark pooled around the staircase, and the metallic sent of blood filled Breen's nose.
"Aren? Aren, are you okay?"
Something moved in the shadows on the other side of the tower.
"Aren, this is nae funny."
" Thou art right it is nae amusing."
The voice was cold, clear, and definately didn't belong to Aren. There was a thump as if someone had fallen over. Breen drew his knife and prayed to the gods that Aren was alright. A dark shape moved twoards him from the shadows.
"I've been waiting awhile for my revenge. Thou art the scum that sounded the call?"
"Thirteen chimes at midnight, calling the raiders to reek havoc on mine village."
The figure stepped out of the shadows.
Red Snow: Chapter One"Oy, Breen bet thou art too scared to walk to the old tower in the ruins and pull the bell thirteen times at midnight like the legend says happened."
"What do you bet, Aren?"
"I bet my knife, against yours , doest thou accept?"
And so Breen had taken the stupidist dare ever. That night accompanied by his best friend Aren, he made his way to the bell tower. Snow begain to fall, and Breen felt as if he were watched. The eyes of all those slain seemed to peer at him from the dark. They tread carefully as if worried they'd wake the dead. Creeping up the tower stairs Breen heard something, it sounded like the pigions in the bell tower back home, but bigger. He gathered his courage and pulled the rope. Once, twice, until he had sounded it thriteen times.
"Hah, now you owe me your knife, Aren. ....Aren?"
Red snow: PrologueSnow fell thickly that fateful night. The church bell tolled the midnight hour and then once more signaling the beginning... of the end...
The white snow had been painted red that day, oh so many years ago, now. Entire villages lost, burned, but according to lore, in the ruins at the edge of the forest of night, the bell tower still stands, and in that tower is the sole survivor of that massacre.
GaiaLike the arms of my mother
the forest surrounds me
I am hidden
snug within her green sleeves
Though her moods are the weather,
her love is all I can see,
I sleep in
my soft bed of leaves.
Dreams in the RainSleep, rain is falling
softly, slipping down through dreams
water for the mind...
and food for thought that
tantalizes the soul, hints
at things yet to be...
are paths not yet chosen and
the dreams not yet dreamt.
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
A Week Of KissesA Week Of Kisses
The first day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your shoulder,
Well before I thought about your lips.
Because I don’t know what I am doing, firstly,
But more importantly,
It’s because I know things can spiral quickly,
If things start shifting
After we lay down the concrete.
So I kiss the foundation,
Before we reach the soil.
The second day I told you I loved you,
I imagined kissing your elbow,
Because it holds together the touch
And the flex.
To exhibit it,
I must kiss the joint that bends
And combines us together.
The third day I told you I loved you,
I lay my lips to your temples,
As I learned about the temple of reform,
For the Youth in North America.
Kissing you there signifying I will protect you,
As well as your temple,
As we re-form, into something more.
The fourth day I told you I loved you,
I’d kiss you softly on your forehead.
Because that’s what holds your brillian
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More