Post by safaiax on Dec 4, 2008 22:03:30 GMT -5
I'm writing a story for school, and the requirements are that it has to be about an animal that's smaller than you and you have to make it so the reader can empathize with it (not sympathize).
So I'm doing a raven and first, I had to write about the animal itself and just describe it physically and socially, etc. Then I had to write about the setting. I recently began writing the story itself and I'll probably be working on that for a while. I'm still deciding if I should post the essey about the description or not, but here's the setting. Tried to make it as interesting as possible. What do you think? Constructive criticism appreciated!
[glow=red,2,300]Rated K[/glow]
My Great-grandpappy used to tell me stories of the wonders and beauties of this island we live on--that is, before the humans invaded and humanized our once magnificient fortress of an island. As I perched on the valley's rocky cliff edge, I tried to invision what used to exist in the bowl shaped valley some decades ago. The massive, stone house, which seemed to be at least 20 Ravens high and 50 long and wide, stood in the place of what Great-grandpappy said used to be a lush, animal-filled forest in which you could almost always hear the beautiful and majestic songs of us ravens, as well as many other singing-birds. It was mostly only in the morning and evening that you could hear them, though. But now that the humans have invaded, they destroyed most of the forest and replaced it with ugly, good-for-nothing human houses, and of course the copper-silver colored Master House.
Surrounding the Master House, which Great-grandpappy called a "castle", are hundreds of smaller houses made of logs and hay, grouped in something Great-grandpappy called a "village". I have also heard from him that before the humans came, ravens were free to roam the island with not a care in the world, except perhaps finding the next meal or who to mate with; simple things like that. But now, we have to watch out for the occasional trap hidden in the trees or under the brush. To me, they are unimportant, though, because I have flown high and low in search of even one. I have scaled the tallest trees, and explored the darkest, densest parts of the remaing forest, and no traps have come into view. It takes less than a day's flight to encircle the entire island, and I have done that as well. I have searched a number of over hanging caves of the valley's steep cliff, and explored some of the glorious bright and blooming fields of the island--at least those that the humans haven't been so kind as to destroy and replace with tasty crops and livestock. All that I have found, though, was some mouth watering foods such as lamb, graciously left out by the humans, piles upon piles of sparkling trinkets--again, from the humans, in which I will be sure to beat my siblings in our everlasting game of "Grandest Hoard" now--and a possible mate from the south side of the island. No traps, though. Not a single net, nor a wretched cage, nor anything else that spells out Certain Death. So in my eyes, traps are not a problem.
Suddenly, I glanced at the golden sun and realized it was beginning to go to sleep. Mother wanted me back home now. I felt the wind ruffle through my glossy, black feathers, as if to whisper some sort of secret message to my being. I took one last look at the darkening valley below and saw the ant like humans growing fewer and fewer as the sun sank below the tree line of the cliffs. That's one thing we have in common: we both sleep during the night; or as my mother would say, 'as the stars come out to sing and play, ravens and humans alike go in for the day'.
I got to thinking as I clutched an overhanging rock of the valley's cliff. Great-grandpappy might have considered this island to have been completely obliterated, but in my opinion, it's beautiful. After all, the flowers still bloom, the air still whispers, the sparkling waves still tumble upon the romantic beach, and the food supply is as high as ever, thanks to our mysterious creatures, the humans. And ah, yes, how mysterious they are. I look forward to leaving the nest in a matter of days now, and freely exploring these creatures with shiny toys and fresh meat. As I leapt onto the rock in which I had clutched, I caught that sweet whisper of wind which so kindly assisted me into the dimming atmosphere and prompted my leave. My black wings flapped, I arose with the current, and off I went into the pure air. Midnight fury gone with the wind.
I'm not really sure if I should post the description of the main character, but if you think so, I'd appreciate it if you let me know. It includes a physical description, a social desciption, etc. so you can actually get a picture in your head of what it looks like (at least that's the intent) Just not really sure where I'd post it...
...By the way, I posted this in fables because it's going to turn into something like a fable. If it shouln't be here, just tell me and I'll move it
So I'm doing a raven and first, I had to write about the animal itself and just describe it physically and socially, etc. Then I had to write about the setting. I recently began writing the story itself and I'll probably be working on that for a while. I'm still deciding if I should post the essey about the description or not, but here's the setting. Tried to make it as interesting as possible. What do you think? Constructive criticism appreciated!
[glow=red,2,300]Rated K[/glow]
My Great-grandpappy used to tell me stories of the wonders and beauties of this island we live on--that is, before the humans invaded and humanized our once magnificient fortress of an island. As I perched on the valley's rocky cliff edge, I tried to invision what used to exist in the bowl shaped valley some decades ago. The massive, stone house, which seemed to be at least 20 Ravens high and 50 long and wide, stood in the place of what Great-grandpappy said used to be a lush, animal-filled forest in which you could almost always hear the beautiful and majestic songs of us ravens, as well as many other singing-birds. It was mostly only in the morning and evening that you could hear them, though. But now that the humans have invaded, they destroyed most of the forest and replaced it with ugly, good-for-nothing human houses, and of course the copper-silver colored Master House.
Surrounding the Master House, which Great-grandpappy called a "castle", are hundreds of smaller houses made of logs and hay, grouped in something Great-grandpappy called a "village". I have also heard from him that before the humans came, ravens were free to roam the island with not a care in the world, except perhaps finding the next meal or who to mate with; simple things like that. But now, we have to watch out for the occasional trap hidden in the trees or under the brush. To me, they are unimportant, though, because I have flown high and low in search of even one. I have scaled the tallest trees, and explored the darkest, densest parts of the remaing forest, and no traps have come into view. It takes less than a day's flight to encircle the entire island, and I have done that as well. I have searched a number of over hanging caves of the valley's steep cliff, and explored some of the glorious bright and blooming fields of the island--at least those that the humans haven't been so kind as to destroy and replace with tasty crops and livestock. All that I have found, though, was some mouth watering foods such as lamb, graciously left out by the humans, piles upon piles of sparkling trinkets--again, from the humans, in which I will be sure to beat my siblings in our everlasting game of "Grandest Hoard" now--and a possible mate from the south side of the island. No traps, though. Not a single net, nor a wretched cage, nor anything else that spells out Certain Death. So in my eyes, traps are not a problem.
Suddenly, I glanced at the golden sun and realized it was beginning to go to sleep. Mother wanted me back home now. I felt the wind ruffle through my glossy, black feathers, as if to whisper some sort of secret message to my being. I took one last look at the darkening valley below and saw the ant like humans growing fewer and fewer as the sun sank below the tree line of the cliffs. That's one thing we have in common: we both sleep during the night; or as my mother would say, 'as the stars come out to sing and play, ravens and humans alike go in for the day'.
I got to thinking as I clutched an overhanging rock of the valley's cliff. Great-grandpappy might have considered this island to have been completely obliterated, but in my opinion, it's beautiful. After all, the flowers still bloom, the air still whispers, the sparkling waves still tumble upon the romantic beach, and the food supply is as high as ever, thanks to our mysterious creatures, the humans. And ah, yes, how mysterious they are. I look forward to leaving the nest in a matter of days now, and freely exploring these creatures with shiny toys and fresh meat. As I leapt onto the rock in which I had clutched, I caught that sweet whisper of wind which so kindly assisted me into the dimming atmosphere and prompted my leave. My black wings flapped, I arose with the current, and off I went into the pure air. Midnight fury gone with the wind.
I'm not really sure if I should post the description of the main character, but if you think so, I'd appreciate it if you let me know. It includes a physical description, a social desciption, etc. so you can actually get a picture in your head of what it looks like (at least that's the intent) Just not really sure where I'd post it...
...By the way, I posted this in fables because it's going to turn into something like a fable. If it shouln't be here, just tell me and I'll move it
