Iron Angel - Part 1I was born from two parents, as most people do. My parents were the best in the world, at least in my world. I never saw any other people. Sometimes we could find a severed limb or dead bodies the rats hadn't gotten to. After a find like that we always had a feast of meat stew, making sure that the carefree not-house would get its share, so that it would stay carefree.Iron Angel - Part 1 by ~WriterDream
When I was two (I think, years are difficult to count here) I befriended the cat living with us. It was a fat, grey and yellow old cat, patient with whatever I managed to get into my head. Soon after that, I met the rats. Big, dark and slender things roaming in hundreds and th
Wolfwing, part 2Morning came early within the forest of Ardilin. The heavy rain clouds had been carried away by a warm wind, and the sun took its chance to dry away the water the ground hadn't claimed as its own. The river had risen over its banks, cleaning the dark grey rocks that protected the village from the things that sometimes rose from the murky depths. Between the blooming trees the grass grew knee-high since the branches let through more light than deeper in the forest. A large herd of spotted deer lay resting in the sunlight, only their short horns could be seen over the grass swaying in the gentle breeze. The deer weren't as large, nor their hornWolfwing, part 2 by ~WriterDream
Iron Angel - IntroductionBehind the junkyard at the edge of the world lay a small place. Well, lay woould be the wrong word, since it wasn't really laying around like most of the junk that collected near the edges. It floated, actually, sailing around with no cares in the world. Place would also give you the wrong impression, since it was a house. Well, not technically, but if you call something with four walls and a roof a house, then it wouldn't be a house.Iron Angel - Introduction by ~WriterDream
So, the sentence is:
Over the junkyard at the edge of the world floated a carefree non-house.
That is my home and that is where I was born.
Wolfwing, part 1Darkness lay heavy on the forest glade. The rain had been falling for hours, making the ground damp and every tree a trap with wet, cold leaves. The small camp, consisting only of a dying fire and a sleeping bag made of thick fur, lay empty. The only thing that could be heard was the rain's patient drumming on a thousand trees.Wolfwing, part 1 by ~WriterDream
Rasha Wintermane stood on a stone half-hidden by the trees, she leaned on the trunk of an old pine tree, her dark hood concealing her face from prying eyes. Her arms ached from holding the bowstring drawn in the cold air. Her thick hair stuck to her face, she wanted to wipe it away, but dared not move. Under the trees