Drabbles from a late writers party

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here is a series of written works done by more than one person, it is your task to figure out how many people wrote this, critiques on individual and groupings arre GREATLY appreciated

 Dedicated to Impossible for finally updating her story Daughter of Hell! and for being a great fan, her comments and praise just makes my day!

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Bridges burn and waters break but if you tell me that I won’t take you’re wrong. Kleptomania is not a choice it’s an addiction. You take and take and take for no reason. The people who say to just stop taking are stupid. It’s a disease like any other. It’s like your fingers are brambles and they just want to snag any and everything up, with or without purpose, it happens like animals are drawn to a stream or metals to a magnet. So I take.

Listen to the song of the valley’s soul, deep in the forest leading to a river deep. Sit upon the rocks my friend, and ponder for the last vestiges of pure life await you there. Where the wind sired the unending rays of the sun, and the earth bore the growth of the land, sit my friend, for in the dark of some unending night you will hear the song of life as the light shines through your veins. Amongst the glowing cavernous tree tops you sense the spirit of the King a feeling so indescribable so unlike any other that even the songs of the birds, nor the cry of a wolf; none can transcribe it’s beauty.

Searching in the depths I alight to find that what I’m looking for is not so far off in truth its but a stone’s throw away but barring my traverse there in none other than a pool invariably, and ironically I cannot swim and please myself to sit and ponder how I may but simply pluck what it is I seek before me but in the end all I can do is sit with my feet dangling in the pool presented to me and daydream. How easy it would be if I could just glide forth and snatch what it is a want from hither but alas I can only wait to see if someone may come along and offer assistance perhaps it would be a boy handsome and strong or mayhaps a prince of noble lineage. I lay my head down and rest the wind tickles me and I move my hand to block the wind and in doing so I create my own demise as I fall unbalance in to the water. Ophelia.

I breathe out and a wisp of cold breath escapes. I inhale and clasp my hands together and exhale hoping to bring what little warmth I can to them. Living here in the moon months it’s always a priority to ward off frost bite. I stand there for a moment longer before dashing out into the streets. A day’s salary for a day’s work was the common saying around here but a day’s work has become so much harder since the storm. Everything’s been covered in the relentless ice. Coating roofs, doors, homes and people. It’s a struggle to survive here but hey that’s life on marsh moon. We’re just another scapegoat and another excuse trying to carve out a living.

The moon shone with an ethereal light upon the figure in the clearing, she seemed to draw in and reflect the light on the small amount of skin shown, the subtle curve of her neck, and her lips were twisted into a little smile. Her silver hair twisted and piled atop her head like the crown she didn’t need. Her body was cloaked in a dress of white wisps; however it wasn’t her grace or even her inhuman beauty that drew the eye to her. It was the glow in her eyes the veiled malice that the cold seemed to bleed into the air. All around her stood creatures of different sizes and shapes, creatures of cloven hoof and feathered wing, creatures twisted long, and squat. When her voice resonated through the cold bitter air, the darkness shifted giving the impression of many pointed eyes and sharp canines. “The time of the Tithe has come!” She raised the shimmering goblet into the air, the moon reflected on the liquids surface, There came to be a great cheering, and a great wailing.

Thud! She slammed into the ground the dirt giving way beneath her and giving her a healthy coating. She quickly scrambled up and assessed the heavy dirt on her arms and pant legs. She quickly scanned the ground for the torch shed been carrying and spotted it a short distance off. It had rolled into a small bush as she fell. It now formed into a sizable fire its embers trailing upward into the night sky. Following the embers ascent she met the eyes of the wolf. The fire grew forming a barrier between her and the wolf. This cool night was about to heat up.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 27, 2013 ⏰

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