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A Brackenwood Story; but this one's told by me.
Topic Started: Nov 25 2005, 05:47 AM (10,537 Views)
LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
This is just a silly story I thought up when I wondered what Bitey would do if he was met with someone – or something – as nasty as he is…

Plus we haven’t really seen any Brackenwood predators so I thought I’d dump one in there, see how she copes.

And to disclaim, all of Brackenwood belongs to the genius Mr. Adam Philips. Pwns Adam, pwns. Anyway, but the wolf and the Wizzals belong to me. I got all of my information about Brackenwood here.

And for some visual aid, this is just a picture of my she-wolf, ain’t she a cutie?

Also, at the moment this wolf doesn’t have a name, so she’ll be referred too as wolf/she-wolf for the time being.

So this is where I bring Brackenwood storytelling into my own medium. Lemme know what you think.

A Brackenwood Story

Part 1

Running. Heart beating, breath sobbing, the thawing snow plashing up. The bark of the human’s death-stick. Pain. The scent of blood and sweat soaked pelt, rolling over and over, the strong smell of earth and dead bracken, of new shoots and coming spring. A shock of cold water, muted sounds, no air, couldn’t breathe, the world faded, and then… Nothing.

She was first aware of her own breathing. In… and out. In…and out again. And then she heard the deep thud, thud, thud of her heartbeat.

Her nose twitched and one ear flicked. Something tickled her forepaw and something else brushed her whiskers. She felt the tip of her tail being plucked, and then, hot little fingers took hold of her eyelid and wrenched it open. Searing daylight burned into the she-wolf’s eyes and the black pupil shrank into a dark dot in a pool of gold.

After a moment, something other then the sunlight registered. A small face that looked a small, pale yellow flame peered into the eye as big as it’s entire head with very pale, almost white eyes. But then, like a candle that had been put out by a breeze, the face suddenly disappeared. The she-wolf jerked her head up. She was alone. There was no trace of the small pale creatures.

Her sleek ears moved again and she raised her muzzle. She was surrounded by trees, great, tall trees, taller then anything she had ever come across and they were…singing? The wolf shook her muzzle, trees didn’t sing. She cocked her head to one side, it was actually more whispering then singing really, and it was only a couple of trees that were actually making the noises. They had smooth bark but grew crookedly and were riddled with small holes. The wind played the trees like pipes in a soothing song.

The she-wolf listened to the singing trees for a moment before more pressing matters came to mind. She recalled she’d been running, running from…she had to think hard…humans, that was it, she had been running from humans, drawing them away from the pack’s den and new cubs. She remembered now the bark of the human’s black sticks and the burning pain it had caused in her side. She remembered scenting the blood, but as she sniffed now, she could smell no blood. What she could smell was completely alien and made her hackles raise and she growled warningly.

She had to find her pack. She slowly climbed to her feet, her ears trembled and her tail shivered. She scented air, but found nothing familiar nor comforting. Lifting her muzzle the she-wolf let out a howl that rang through the trees and climbed the sky, clawing at the on-coming dawn. She cocked her ears and waited for a reply.

All around her, in the deep wild forests of Brackenwood, the native creatures heard the cry of the creature that had come into their world. They pressed deeper into their hollows and holes, into dens and hiding places, and they knew a new fear…

XX Somewhere in Brackenwood XX

Bitey was rudely woken from his sleep by a high, wailing cry. It rose like a bird and echoed amongst the trees. Bitey growled. Who was making such a racket so early in the morning? If he had been paying a bit more attention and been a little less bad-tempered, he may have realised that he’d never heard this call before. But this was Bitey, who pretty much never paid attention and was practically always moody, so he didn’t notice.

So he was awake now and he knew that he wouldn’t get back to sleep today, so sulking he climbed down his tree home and popped out among the roots. He stretched and looked around before disappearing into the forest, more then likely about to ruin somebody’s day…
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Divine_Walrus
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Got a question about the forum? PM me! :)
Brackenwood Fan-Fiction, nice :D I thought your use of personification really helped the imagery in the story, this sentence I liked especially:

Quote:
 
Lifting her muzzle the she-wolf let out a howl that rang through the trees and climbed the sky, clawing at the on-coming dawn.
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
Thanks Divine Walrus, and as you’re the first reviewer, you get a virtual cookie and I do a happy dance! Wheeeee!

(>^_^>) (<^_^<) (>^_^<) (<^_^>)

Part 2

The she-wolf wandered through the trees, sniffing now and again and occasionally howling, but as time went by, it became more and more apparent with each call, that there was no one to answer. The she-wolf dropped her ears and tail. Where was her pack? Had she run that far from them? Or maybe something else had happened, something a wolf could neither comprehend nor understand. She whimpered.

She missed her pack and its new little cubs. The she-wolf moaned as she thought of the playful little bundles of fur gambolling about in the new grass. She’d have been charged to look after them, she was second to only the alpha female in the pack and trusted with the pack’s future. Or else she would have hunted to feed their mother and in turn them. The wolf’s heart twisted, a wolf’s ties and family bond to it’s pack are strong and the she-wolf grew miserable as she thought she would never see their faces again.

Another cry rose above the trees. But this one was bitterly sad and full of pain, the cry of a wolf, with no family left. But there was hunger in the cry as well, hunger for companionship and affection. But also a hunger for prey. For the second time that day the Brackenwood creatures cowered and shivered in terror.

There was a wolf in Brackenwood, and she was hungry. There was nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

XX Meanwhile, not very far away… XX

A high squealing squeak slashed at the still air as at the same time, did a rough bark of some kind. And then there was silence, until; Bitey bounced the yellow fatsack on his head like a football, enjoying the sound it made every time it hit. The poor fatsack was bruised, helpless and completely at Bitey’s mercy and it made small, hardly audible whimpers as it was unmercifully bounced.

After a while Bitey got bored, as he tended to do with any activity. He bounced the fatsack extra high and as it came down he smacked it with a branch and with a drawn out fart the fatsack zipped spectacularly through the air like a little yellow comet.

Bitey waved cheerfully before noticing a small wooden sign with ‘Wee’ and a small sketch of a witch on it and the little pink house sitting in a stumpy tree. Cocking his head to one side, Brackenwood’s arguably meanest creature went to investigate.

XX Above Brackenwood XX

Fatsack sailed through the air like a squeegee yellow ball, it farted in a way that most would associate with a human yelling ‘AHHHHHHHHH!’ as it hurtled down, hit several branched and landed plop in a small glade, not unlike the one it had only up until recently occupied.

Fatsack looked around it’s new surroundings and let out a farting sigh of relief, until it heard a rustle not too far away.

The she-wolf stared in surprise at the yellow thing that had just dropped out of the sky. It looked…vaguely birdlike in it’s head but it was like no other bird the wolf had ever seen. But it looked fat enough to make a meal… The she-wolf began to dribble and bared her gleaming white fangs. With tail straight out behind her, with ears and muzzle pressed forward, and with her hungry wolf eyes glowing green the she-wolf stalked towards the yellow creature.

Fatsack made a small, uncertain farting sound. There was no way Bitey could have gotten here that fast…could he? Then, all of a sudden there was more rustling and a great, furry…thing exploded from the foliage, all fatsack saw was fur and teeth and glowing eyes before he was caught up in the thing’s mouth and shaken around vigorously.

The wolf shook the little yellow thing hard, looking for all the world like a dog with it’s favourite toy. As soon as she had closed her teeth around it the wolf had instinctively known that this was not something to eat. But she enjoyed the squishing sound it made, like when she had too much water in her belly and she could hear it sloshing around in there.

Suddenly the thing made a vibrating sound and the she-wolf dropped it in surprise and jumped back several feet, crouched and ready for an attack. But an attack wasn’t forth coming. The she-wolf watched the yellow thing fart happily again and bounce several times. The wolf’s muzzle bouncing up and down as she followed it in complete shock. She didn’t have the faintest clue what this thing was and what to do with it.

Fatsack stopped bouncing and watched the creature. He’d never seen anything like it before, but his brain was really too small to be bothered. Slowly the thing approached and put out a paw, tentatively prodding him. Fatsack farted but the thing didn’t draw back this time but nudged him with it’s snout.

The she-wolf poked the thing as it farted again. She was just beginning to enjoy herself with this new found toy-thing when she suddenly smelt something very big and very fierce come into the clearing, she looked round just as the thing roared. With a shrill yelp the wolf shot across the clearing, away from the yellow ball and this new threat.

She paused at the wood fringe and looked back again. Her eyes wide and her ears erect. This new thing looked something like a huge human covered in long orange fur and wrathful green eyes. It roared again and the she-wolf scarpered.
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
Ooooh! I love it :wub: ! What a good idea to do a Brackenwood story :D :D :D
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medved
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a not ready for prime-time player
WOW! this is the best non-perfessional writing i have ever read!! and i have read quite a few non-perfessional stories. a bunch a kudos to you. o and another thing

[size=14]MORE!!![/size]

please? :D
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
Ooo, thanks Turnip05 and medevd, you like it! YAY! More happy dance! *throws toffees like confetti* I’ll get onto the next bit ASAP. Oh, and as in the last fragment I’m going to incorporate Mr. Philips storylines into this, but with my wolf as a side character that could have been there but is never in shot. So yes, I know some of this is out of order…sorry…

Oh, and this is where I introduce the Wizzals, my own creation.

Part 3

The she-wolf stopped her headlong flight eventually. She panted, pink tongue lolling, her stomach still growling and looked around. One ear flicked rapidly. She was alone again. She listened for a moment to the insects and birds she could hear in the undergrowth and forest canopy. Her stomach grumbled again and the she-wolf shook her muzzle before heading off again, threading her way through the trees at the typical, mile-eating, energy-conversing, loping pace that wolves are known for.

After a while she came to a bigger break in the woods, a great glade opened out before her, a clear, singing river running peacefully through it. But the wolf noticed known of this, she was too preoccupied with the scent that had just hit her full in the face and she dropped to her belly.

There was a small herd of about seven creatures grazing quietly by the river. Four of the creatures were adults and the other three were younger, even so the biggest of the herd was barely taller then the wolf and only three quarters her length.

The adults had sharp little horns like roe deer, in fact to the she-wolf’s eyes, they looked exactly like roe deer, except that they were a bight bumblebee yellow with three, four or five black or very dark brown stripes, going across their backs and fading at their bellies, which were paler. And they had long sinuous tails with dark tufts on the ends and their nose were more like a rabbits then a deer’s. The youngsters were a middling beige with brown dapples and they didn’t had horns or antlers yet.

A pack would have passed them by as too small, but the she-wolf was part of a pack no longer and one of these creatures would make a fine meal for her. Slowly she crept forward, the grass of the forest glade was thick and lush and hid the wolf very well. The wind was on her side and the creatures seemed completely relaxed, as if natural predators were infrequent or none existent.

Suddenly, unfortunately, the wind changed. What must have been the leading male – he had the most impressive little horns – threw up his head, drew back his lips and made a strange whizzing sound. Had the she-wolf known what a kazoo was, she would probably have compared it to that. But she didn’t so she couldn’t, so she didn’t. She did know however that her cover was blown and she would have to run one down now.

The wolf shot out of the grassy cover and hurtled towards the whizzer creatures, aiming for one of the small adults. The creatures all made their kazoo sounds and sprang away, moving very much like deer. They were quite fast but were inexperienced with how to deal with a wolf and so the she-wolf quickly caught up with her quarry, feeling the joy of a wild hunt.

Just as she was about to lunge for her prey she was stopped up short as the male landed in front of her and scythed it’s small but sharp horns. The wolf sprang to one side snarling angrily. The whizzing animal came at her again and not used to being challenged the wolf turned and fled. She didn’t go far and was rewarded for her persistence. One of the youngsters had been separated from the group which had crossed the river.

Throwing caution to the wind, the she-wolf charged at the little creature, it whizzed and sprinted away. It was fast for such a small creature but didn’t have the wolf’s stamina. But it had something that the wolf didn’t.

Blind luck.

The young animal sprang towards the river, and just as the wolf was about to leap, it snapped up it’s front legs and threw itself over the river. Landing lightly on the other side.

The wolf had no such luck, the creature’s hind hooves had given her a painful clip under the jaw, sending pain shooting through her head. And she didn’t have time to put on the brakes either, and went headlong into the river.

The little family of Wizzals – for that’s what they were – clustered together and the male led them calmly into the forest, leaving the she-wolf sitting up to her haunches in water, mud caking her head and a bit of weed caught on her ear.

The wolf growled furiously to herself.

And then she heard a giggle. The she-wolf looked up quickly, wondering what this new nuisance was.
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Master Rade
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The Sexy Latino Supremeo
I like it. We need more people in storie section and I would hate it if this were to die so keep going on with the storie. Also. I rember my first Bracken woood storie.
The FatSack Reveng on Bitey! Any way keep it up and if it gets better. Who knows, I would fancy to Illustrate a scene.
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Shrike
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The Spikeadelic One
I like this a lot. Especially those Wizzals, they're a bit difficult to picture in my mind but they still sound pretty cool. Kinda like something Adam might make up, they fit in with Brackenwood.

Quote:
 
All around her, in the deep wild forests of Brackenwood, the native creatures heard the cry of the creature that had come into their world. They pressed deeper into their hollows and holes, into dens and hiding places, and they knew a new fear…


This uncannily similar to that scene from the Amber Spyglass where Pantalaimon screeches his owl cry in the mulefa world. Am I close? :P

Awesome stuff, and don't be discouraged if it seems like no one's replying to your work. Just be persistant. If you look a few pages of topics back you can see some of my work, if you're interested.
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
New readers! YAY! Thanks Master Rade, and if you want to illustrate some of the scenes, feel free, I’d love to see how you ‘see’ it. ^_^ And oh my gosh, you’re right Shrike, it is like that bit in the Amber Spyglass, and I never even noticed…damn, must watch out for that in the future. But I’m glad you liked the Wizzals and thought they fitted. :D Anyway, thanks both of you for reading, cookie? :D Oh and PS to Shrike, I’ll go now and read your story, sounds fun. :D

I’m under the impression wolves are colourblind but in this story our wolf can see in perfect colourvision. Just a pointless little note for you there…

Part 4

There was nothing there. The she-wolf made a confused sound and flicked both her ears back and then forward again. Still nothing. What was going on!? Taking a deep breath the wolf dunked her mud-encrusted head under the water and shook herself. When she lifted her dripping head she saw the thing that had giggled.

The she-wolf blinked. This new thing was not entirely threatening, but the wolf was uneasy all the same. It was short, a head taller then the wolf’s shoulder. With strange, pointed, almost animalistic ears and huge green eyes with a thatch of reddish-orange hair. It wore ragged waistcoat and shorts and it’s feet were bare.

The wolf stood up and slowly clambered out of the river, on the same side as this elf/goblin-like-person critter. She shook herself vigorously, her thick winter coat that yet to thin, feeling heavy and damp. The wolf whined pitifully, she was hungry and now she was wet. Life had steadily gotten worse since she’d woken up in this place.

The she-wolf sat down in the grass, feeling miserable and for a moment forgetting that she wasn’t alone. She whimpered and gave a half-hearted cub howl.

Something tugged at the fur on her shoulder and the she-wolf blinked to find that this new creature was standing beside her, now that she was sitting the wolf was now just a bit taller then the humanoid thing. It didn’t look deliriously happy anymore either, more of a thoughtful expression. The wolf was suddenly struck by a sudden realisation. This…whatever it was, was only a cub, a mere puppy in a big world (her little knowing that Brackenwood was actually very small…). And it looked as though there was nothing around to protect it.

The she-wolf nudged the creature with her nose and made a low sound, like she would to a cub. The thing broke into a wild, childish grin and threw it’s arms around the wolf and gave her a hug. The wolf’s eyes bugged. The little creature was so strong. Finally it let her go.

“Bi-bong.” It said and giggled like a four-year-old. The wolf cocked her head at it, having been around for many a young cub’s first words, she knew that the thing was trying to say ‘bingbong’ but other then that she was clueless. What did bingbong mean? Was it some form of greeting? Or was it the thing’s name? She didn’t have anything more to go on and nothing better to call it, so Bingbong it was. She also decided that instead of an ‘it’, Bingbong was now a ‘he’.

The she-wolf snuffed Bingbong’s face and then gave him a friendly lick. Bingbong giggled and clapped his hands delightedly. He then tugged on the she-wolf’s ear and skipped off. The wolf watched him go a little way and then turn and wait for her. With a grunt the she-wolf got up and padded after Bingbong.


Part 5

Bingbong led the wolf through Brackenwood, skipping ahead and waiting for her to catch up and the she-wolf dutifully followed, if for no other reason then to just to keep this strange little goblin out of harm’s way.

After a time the unlikely pair, Bingbong skipping about with boundless energy and the plodding she-wolf came out into a small clearing devoid of trees. Expect one. A stunted, twisted thing right in the middle of the clearing with a little wooden house perched in it’s branches. Bingbong headed straight for it but the she-wolf stopped up short and refused to go any further. Even when Bingbong tried to encourage her. She shook her muzzle and laid her ears back, tail curled slightly between her hindlegs.

Bingbong shrugged and raced towards the house, climbing up to the porch and knocking on the door before dancing in a circle. The door opened, and a little woman, no higher then the she-wolf herself looked out. She spread her arms in fond greeting to Bingbong and ruffled his hair. She was wearing deep blue robes, blue and green stockings and a tall blue hat with a red band above the brim and a little shining star hung from the top. She had wild brown hair and all the she-wolf could see of her face that wasn’t covered by the hat was a long nose.

She was about to leave Bingbong with his friends and slink off when Bingbong bounced off the porch and scampered towards her. The she-wolf turned back, intending to make some form of farewell but was stopped when she realised that the witch had appeared beside her, a broomstick in her hand.

The Brackenwood witch and the only wolf in Brackenwood gazed at each other for a moment. Before the witch cupped her hand and a little ball of light appeared. The wolf sat down in surprise. The little light zipped away from the witch and zigzagged to the house. The she-wolf’s eyes were wide and her ears were pinned back, completely clueless about anything that was going on. Bingbong on the hand seemed to be enjoying himself, he spun in a circle giggling.

Another figure appeared through the door, a tall one, that the she-wolf found bizarrely familiar. She blinked her golden eyes and when she realised what it reminded her of, she gave a shrill yelp and tried to run. But though her legs moved she didn’t go anywhere. When this finally sank in the wolf looked wildly around and found that she was floating gently at at least seven feet from the grassy floor. The she-wolf yowled louder and peddled her paws frantically. The thing was like that one that had chased her away from the farting yellow ball, although this one lacked fur.

The thing stopped in front of her and watched her for a moment before it opened it’s mouth and spoke. The she-wolf was so surprised that she immediately became silent and stared, wild eyed at the thing.

The thing said his name was Auld Sage, and that he was a ‘Bigfoot’. He also said that the witch – Lemonee Wee – and the goblin – Bingbong were good friends of his, and he thanked the she-wolf for looking after Bingbong but really, that he didn’t need looking after in Brackenwood.

The wolf cocked her head to one side. What was Brackenwood? Auld Sage apparently understood her question and explained that Brackenwood was a tiny forest planet, the one they were on right now. He also said that he knew the she-wolf was not a native and he suspected that it was some sort of faerie mischief. The she-wolf didn’t care what had brought her to this place, only if there was a way home. Auld Sage seemed to know yet again, her question and answered, rather gravely that as being as he didn’t know how the faeries had managed to do this he had no idea how to reverse it. There was no going back. The wolf whined mournfully.

No way back?

She was then lowered, the wolf slowly sank until she was once more standing on the grass. She whimpered again. Auld Sage tried to be comforting, she was welcome to stay with Lemonee Wee if she wished, the she-wolf growled slightly. The thought of staying in one place fought against her wandering nature, the untameable spirit of the wild wolf. So instead she was told she had free reign of Brackenwood, to roam where she would and hunt what she could find to feed herself. But there was a warning attached to the freedom. Should she ever disrespect the forest or it’s inhabitants, then there would be consequences. The she-wolf couldn’t help think that ‘consequences’ sounded ominous and decided it would be better to do as she was bid.

By this time Bingbong was becoming restless, wanting to be off. He fidgeted for a moment longer but then he scampered off. Before the wolf had time to follow him Auld Sage stopped her one last time. He had one last thing to give the she-wolf. A name. He took a moment to think, but then he decided.

The newly named she-wolf darted off after Bingbong but at the last moment, before disappearing into the tree shadows she turned back and raising her sleek muzzle to the raising moon she howled her farewell to Lemonee Wee and Auld Sage, and then she was gone, plunging into the darkness of falling night.

Auld Sage and Lemonee Wee looked at each other. Even if the she-wolf didn’t, they knew what powers the oldest song of the wolf possessed and what the she-wolf was capable of. She was the only one who could sing it. The only one with a natural defence, against Them. The shadow people.

The she-wolf ran through the forest, a mere pale will-of-the-wisp in the night. She had to find Bingbong, although Auld Sage had told her he needed no protection, the she-wolf’s mothering instincts had been aroused, and she felt, deep down in her gut, that she should follow him.

And all the while she ran, a single word went through her mind, her name, her identity crystallized into three syllables.

Steffany.

Author Note
Yes I know the she-wolf’s name isn’t exactly in keeping with Brackenwood style but she isn’t from Brackenwood and it’ll become stranger later on. A name can sound so different when you’re not sure how to pronounce it… ^_^
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medved
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a not ready for prime-time player
That was so great! 2 comments:

1 this story has a rare(well to me) property of having the real world blocked out and turning it into a movie. (thats a good thing :) )

2 when a person talk to steffany could you have them speak in quotes? and have her like: she nodded in reply, or somthing like that just a comment. i mean no offense.

keep up the good work! :D
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
Hey hey medevd! Well thanks for the praise, this is a new style for me I wanted to write in the style I saw Brackenwood in, simple and short but enchanting, normally I write long-winded, complex stories so it’s nice to know I can do a different style, so thanks for that. About your second point, normally I do have people talking outright, but for some reason it just didn’t work for Brackenwood like it does for other stuff. I was trying to keep in style but I know somewhere along the line, they will start talking in “…” ’s. Another reason I avoided outright conversation is that Steffany is a wild animal and I didn’t want to make her too human just yet, she has to develop really. Plus We’ve only ever heard one creature (Auld Sage) actually talk in Brackenwood so I didn’t want to ruin the magic Mr Philips has created where practically everything is conveyed by expression and action rather the speech. But your comments are appreciated so thanks for that. And no offence taken. ^_^

Part 6

Steffany raced through the wood, throwing up the fallen leaves and springing over fallen logs and rocks in her way.

She’d lost Bingbong, somehow she’d lost a creature that didn’t have half her speed or stamina and the she-wolf was becoming frantic. She dropped her sensitive nose to the ground and began weaving through the trees, trying to pick up Bingbong’s scent. When she eventually did find it, she stood on a steep hill, overlooking the green patchwork carpet that was Brackenwood, deep forests and lush, rolling hills. Steffany raised her muzzle and gazed at the huge moon that hung low in the sky. The stars were unfamiliar here.

The she-wolf howled into the night, maybe Bingbong would hear and come back, she had half a mind to listen for a return call until she remembered that Bingbong wasn’t a wolf. A breeze blew gently past the wolf on the hill, stirring her fur like a teasing cub. But unlike the breezes in Steffany’s world this one was musical, not the whispering sighs the she-wolf had sometimes heard in the woods of her homeland, but actually musical, like a soft singing. And also with it, the wind brought a crisp and fresh scent of Bingbong. The wolf padded down the hill, her muzzle pressed forward, ears up and ears searching for the diminutive creature that was Bingbong.

Eventually she followed his trail to a thick tangle of trees in a secluded pasture. Warily she entered the darkness between the trees and followed the path deeper into the woods. After a while her ears quivered and she heard some sort of music up ahead. Quickening her pace the wolf loped towards the sounds. As she approached she found her way blocked by a thick, leafy bush. Steffany crouched on her belly and pushed her head through the leaves. On the other side was a clearing and there, she saw Bingbong, spinning around and giggling. Her hackles raised as she saw little people, no bigger then her own paw, dancing around him, little musicians on the outside of the circle. They looked like the little people she had first seen when she’d landed on Brackenwood, but these were not pale candle flames, but fiery red and made the wolf growl.

As the dance became faster, Steffany felt an ominous atmosphere drape over the strange scene like a blanket. And the wolf didn’t like it. Not one little bit… She was about to snarl and spring into the clearing when, abruptly the dancing stopped. Bingbong was still standing in the middle, but he’d stopped dancing and looked confused. The faeries on the other hand, were scattered about as if exhausted. The she-wolf bared her teeth in a grin, whatever they had wanted to do had apparently not worked.

She pushed her whole body through the bush and came out into the clearing. Bingbong giggled when he saw the wolf and clapped his hands. The she-wolf finally understood that Auld Sage was right. Bingbong was perfectly safe from everything in Brackenwood. She made a low whuffling sound and flicked her ears. Bingbong patted her roughly on the neck before a bright dancing firefly flew past him and he scampered after it.

Steffany watched him go and then looked around at the faeries. With a snort of derision the she-wolf crossed the clearing and plunged into the trees again. There was a whole world for her to explore. She felt no fear, she was the fiercest thing on Brackenwood…except for maybe the Bigfeet creatures…
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
I love it! I really really do, I also like the way you've woven all the brackenwood flash movies into this story. Keep wrting :D
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medved
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a not ready for prime-time player
yay! another part! and as awesome as the others! :D
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
Hey thanks Turnip05, as much as I love the Brackenwood movies I didn’t want Steffany to be an obvious part in them, I don’t want to do any dis-respect of Adam’s work. And thanks medved! :D Glad you like and hope you like this bit just as much. ^_^

Part 7

The next day found Steffany covered in leaves and twigs and other nastiness and very grumpy. She’d hunted all night and not caught a single thing. But she was covered in muck and everything hurt. She’d been beaten up by what she could only remember as a giant rabbit thing of some kind and fallen into a ditch.

She found herself at a sunny glade with a river running through it. It seemed that everywhere she went the she-wolf found water, it was little wonder that everything was so lush and green. But the wolf didn’t care, she found a comfortable patch of grass and lay down, resting her muzzle of her thick brush of a tail and went into a doze.

She was woken from her dreams of running deer and fat rabbits, by a whizzing sound. Her ears flicked and her nose twitched and she opened one eye. A Wizzal was calmly feeding, grazing by itself by the river. It was adolescent with two small bumps where it’s horns should have been.

Slowly Steffany uncurled and on silent velvetine paws she crept carefully towards the little creature, it’s tail wagged furiously as it fed, it’s back to the wolf. The she-wolf moved softly downwind of it, her ears pressed forward, muzzle questing the air and her eyes fixed on the Wizzal. When she was several feet away she suddenly leapt up and charged at the creature. The animal’s head began to turn and when it saw the wolf it whizzed in fright and was about to spring away when Steffany suddenly let out a howl, half from exhilaration of the hunt and half in defiance of another missed kill.

The animal froze at the terrifying sound and the wolf fell upon it. They rolled over and over down the grassy slope towards the river, but the wolf’s superior weight won out and Steffany pinned the Wizzal to the grass and clamped her fangs around it’s throat, shaking it erratically until the small body went limp. The she-wolf howled again in a triumph of the kill and then tore into the still warm body, gorging the meal down her gullet as fast as she was able. Soon her muzzle up to her eyes was washed in bright crimson gore.

She was so intent on the frenzy of feeding that she didn’t notice the half-man half-goat come out of the trees and watch her with her kill. But she did notice it when the man-goat suddenly zipped past at both an incredible and impossible speed and took her kill with it. The wolf jumped up and watched with huge eyes as this new encounter sped across the river, actually over the water and stopped on the other side. For a second Steffany was froze in shock, the thing was about as tall as she was long, it had a wildly furry face that obscured everything but white eyes and two small horns that sprouted on it’s head. It’s upper body struck the wolf as human, but below it’s waist it had goat legs and hooves with brown, shaggy hair.

The thing waved cheerfully and turning, began to saunter off. Steffany snarled furiously. That jumped up little… The angry wolf vent something like a roar and ran at the river, leaping over it and with a howl of fury charged at the goat-thing.

The creature heard her coming and turned, it saw the wrathful she-wolf coming straight for it and Steffany saw it’s white eyes widen to huge circles. The wolf didn’t slow. To her this creature was a mere cub and needed to be taught some manners. It had broken the rule of the hunter, unless the kill was left it was not to be touched, only when it was abandoned was it free game. Just like a cub, this thing had to be taught a lesson. From the expression on it’s face it had never had this sort of reaction before and it looked truly scared when the wolf smashed into it.

Steffany growled and swiped at the creature’s head, smacking it with her paw, the same way she would discipline a cub. The thing just stared at her in absolute shock.

Bitey had never come across anything like this in his entire life. He watched the strange, very furry animal viciously take down a Wizzal and rip into it. He was about to leave this obviously violent hunter to it’s dinner when his stomach rumbled. Bitey turned back, eyed the animal’s kill and grinned wickedly. He was confident he could snatch the meal from right under the hunter’s nose and get away with it. He was, after all, the fastest thing on Brackenwood.

He crouched slightly for a split-second and then sprinted towards the creature, caught up the kill and zoomed across the river with it. He stopped, turned and waved, grinning at the creature’s surprised expression, he turned smartly and swaggered off. Suddenly he heard the same wailing cry that had woken him a few days ago, but this time, deeper, louder, more primeval. He turned and his eyes went as wide as Lemonee Wee’s saucers as he saw the creature come straight for him and barrel into him. It whacked him on the side of the head with one heavy forepaw and stars exploded before his eyes.

Bitey shook his head and glared, narrow-eyed at the creature growling at him. He opened his mouth, displaying his huge teeth and snapped his jaws threateningly. Instead of backing down as he had expected, the creature opened it’s own mouth, showing off hard white canines and healthy pink gums as a snarl erupted from it’s throat. Bitey growled back and thrusting his head forward he sank his fangs into the furry creature’s flank.

Steffany screamed as the goat-man bit her but then she snarled and closed her own strong jaws around it’s leg and bore down hard. A wolf’s jaws are easily capable of crushing a reindeer leg bone so when the wolf bit down hard she eased up just shy of breaking the thing’s leg. If she just increased pressure just a little bit, then the thing’s leg would have a painful new joint.

Bitey felt the thing clamp down on his leg and as the grip tightened, he knew that somehow, if he didn’t back down then his leg could be snapped like a twig. There was a moment of indecision but then he gave out a whimpering moan and let go. He half expected the furry hunter to crush his leg anyway, just to spite him, it was what he would have done. But instead the pressure lifted from his leg and the hunter let him go. Bitey scrambled away backward, dragging his damaged leg behind him and sat a few feet away and shivered as those merciless teeth ripped once more into the carcass.

Steffany’s flank ached but she felt she’d taught the lesson and went back to eating. She heard a whimper a few moments later and looked up. The creature was looking at her mournfully, there was pain and hurt and hunger in it’s eyes. The she-wolf wondered for a moment at the creature’s expressive eyes. She wouldn’t have known before that silent communication was possible without ears and a tail. But she could see the feelings in the thing’s eye plain as day. She paused thoughtfully for a moment, she felt a fleeting guilt, but she had had to be harsh. The thing needed to know it’s place. That it couldn’t just steal someone else’s meal. But she was feeling full now and there was plenty left, there was no reason she couldn’t share the last part of the kill.

Hefting the Wizzal’s corpse in her mouth, the she-wolf dragged it over to the thing and dumped it in front of him. She’d decided it was a ‘him’. He seemed male at any rate. The thing stared from her to the meat and back to her. The wolf pawed at his uninjured leg and nudged the remains of the kill with her muzzle. The thing needed no more coaxing and attacked the meat with gusto. Steffany went round and lay down in the grass beside him and pulled his hurt leg between her paws.

Bitey flinched when the hunter touched his hurt leg. He made a moaning sound and tried to drag it anyway but the hunter gave a small growl and he kept still, squeezing his eyes shut, anticipating more hurt. But the hurting never came. Instead he felt a strange, pleasantly soothing sensation and opened his eyes to find the animal licking at his wound with it’s tongue. Bitey was surprised. Never in all his memory could he remember when something had actually been nice to him, and this thing, which had attacked and hurt him, had now fed him and was cleaning him up.

It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling. But a welcome one. And a welcome change.
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Master Rade
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The Sexy Latino Supremeo
:blink: writting a novel there LoboDiabloLoneWolf. :lol:
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Foster
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Token Canuck
Okay, you forced me, I read it. Now I have to read Ignia's too, so that nobody gets jealous. ;) Tomorrow, though...

I really liked this story. You've melded into the Brackenwood world very well, almost seamlessly. I like the way it's written like a Brackenwood movie is seen, very much based on mood and colour, the scene is painted well.

I also liked how the story is written largely from the wolf's point of view, and written in a way that brings out the wolf's experience. However, you should be a little more careful to stay 'in character'. In some spots, the wolf associates things she sees with things she couldn't possibly understand, like music. A wolf having a knowledge and understanding is probably okay, because of artistic licence(the same as the wolf being able to see distinct colour), but I noticed in the first part that she associated the trees with a flute, which would be impossible, as a wolf wouldn't know what a flute was. Just little things like that.

There was one section, the part with the kazzoo as a description, that I found to be a little bit forced and difficult to read. It disrupts the story too much, you should change it or take it out entirely. As I said, be careful to keep 'in character', but don't let it make the story telling tedious.

You should also try to keep the wolf's senses of the world more wolf-like. The colour-seeing thing is fine, wolves can see colour, it's just dim by comparison to our colour vision. But you should incorporate the sense of smell more, as that is the major sense a wolf uses to understand the world around it. Just a suggestion.

Good though, keep going.
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
I like the way we see a different side of bitey in this part. Keep up the good work :D
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
Hey Master Rade, lol, no, actually this is kinda short for me, but it’s quite easy to write so it comes quite smoothly. :D And they’re really just a bunch of small adventures I’ve bunged together. You’re enjoying it though right? :worry: Thanks Foster, that’s a lot of help and I’ll keep it in mind. Just for clarification, which bit about the kazoo? I think I only mentioned it once to describe the Wizzal’s sounds, but if you could give me an example I’ll change it a bit. ^_^ Thanks again for the post. :D Hey hey Turnip05! Glad you like this part of Bitey, I’ve written it like this because I think that maybe (very slim chance mind you) that if someone – or something – was nice to Bitey, he might just return the favour.

Part 8

After gorging themselves both the wolf and Bitey lounged on the warm grass, digesting. Bitey fell asleep and began snoring but the she-wolf found the noise comforting more then annoying. It reminded her of her pack, the alpha male had snored too and of course she felt safer when he was around. The she-wolf yawned widely and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

She dreamt that she was back with her pack. They had just had a successful kill and were feeling warm, full of food and sleepy. The beta she-wolf sprawled among her fellows, happy and comforted by the presence of the pack. The wolves all cuddling up together companionably. The she-wolf took in their scents and let out a sigh of contentment. She shifted and rested her head on someone’s warm furry flanks. She buried her muzzle in the soft fur and growled happily, eyes closing and she went to sleep.

One ear flicked suddenly and the she-wolf suddenly heard a strange sound.


Yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu…

The she-wolf woke up with a jerk and a snarl. But then she whined pitifully, it was only a dream. Even so she could still smell her pack and feel the warm fur she rested her head on. But she suddenly realised that there was fur tickling her nose. The she-wolf blinked in confusion, the dream was gone, but there was still something warm and furry under her head. A strange, musky smell filled her nose, strong, but young. Steffany lifted her head slightly. While she’d been asleep she’d moved closer to the goat-thing and was curled up next to him.

The she-wolf watched him sleep for a while, he seemed to be having uncomfortable dreams himself. One leg was twitching and he was making small sounds of distress. The wolf made that whuffling sound she would with a cub and nudged the goat-thing gently with her muzzle.

Bitey woke up from the nightmare of his parents fleeing in a musical storm. He opened his eyes and found the furry hunter looking at him with golden eyes. It nuzzled him and made a low, soothing sound. Bitey blinked at the thing not understanding why it was being so nice to him. He felt a breeze brush his face, but instead of the musical sound it made normally, this sounded flat, off-key. Bitey sat up quickly.

A musical storm was coming.

The goat-man jumped up, suddenly looking edgy. The wolf sensed his fear and smelt the acrid scent roll over the creature. It was really scared, but what of she couldn’t begin to guess. She pinned back her ears and lowered her tail and whimpered questioningly.

Bitey looked down at the hunter, he could tell it didn’t understand, it probably didn’t know about the storms, although how that was possible was beyond Bitey. He couldn’t leave it though. He may have been arrogant and spiteful and even cruel but he was not evil. He beckoned urgently to the creature and plunged into the forest. Heading for a safe haven from the approaching storm.
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Foster
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I just meant that that part describing the sound of the wizzal as a kazoo was a bit tedious to read. It was too much, too fast, and brought me out of the story as easily as being beaten round the head. It just doesn't flow well, you should probably take it out or change it.

Kudos on part 8, it's written really well. B)
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medved
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a not ready for prime-time player
This story is just so awesome! keep up the good work! ^_^
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Turnip05
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I now go imediatly to this page everytime I come on here :D I love the idea of the musical storm! [size=7]I want more [/size]:lol:
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LoboDiabloLoneWolf
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The SHE-Wolf of the Crop-Circles
Crud, I’ve just realised two things, medved, sorry, but I spelt your name wrong twice, only just noticed. *drops to knees and begs* Please forgive meeeee! Ahem…anyway, and the second thing…thanks Foster for the input…unfortunately I can’t edit the post anymore…so it’ll have to stay as it is…which is, well bad really…so thanks for the post and I’m glad you like Part 8, I thought it was abit disjointed, but if you like it well, then I’m happy. :D And thanks medved! Glad you like it so much. ^_^ And LoL Turnip05 :D yep, I agree with ya about the musical storms, Adam is a genius. :D

And a plot may be appearing soon! Wehey! Just another note, the ‘globe tree’ belongs to Mr Philips, but it’s actually description is my own creation, it’s just how I see it, this doesn’t mean it will look as Adam envisions it.

Part 9

Steffany cocked her head at him and flicked her ears. Something was coming that scared the thing with goat hooves. The she-wolf wondered momentarily if she should be afraid too. One sniff of the stench of fear pouring of the creature told her yes, she should. The creature suddenly beckoned to her and disappeared between the trees.

The she-wolf didn’t stop to think but broke into a run and followed him. Among the trees the air was close and humid and smelt as if a thunderstorm was on the way. The trees towered above her, impressive and intimidating, the dusky golden sunlight seemed to have been sucked out of the forest and it was dark and shady and very green. The occasional slant of sunlight burst like water from the canopy and lit the forest floor with pools and dapples of light. The wolf’s pupils opened wide so she could see better and she crept after the half-man, half-beast. She could see clusters of gnats dancing in the hazy light and she was reminded of the swamps her pack had once passed through, far outside their territory’s boundaries. The nervousness she felt then, returned. She crept along, ears flat, tail curled right under her belly and keeping low to the ground.

Bitey led the furry hunter through the trees, the giant plants looking stark in the pre-storm stillness. He thought back on what had happened in the glade; feeling full and pleasantly sleepy Bitey had dozed off and begun snoring. But he’d been woken up a few seconds later when he felt something nuzzle into the fur on his leg. He’d opened one eye and found the furry creature curled up to him, her nose buried into his fur. It’d made a contented sigh and snuggled close. Bitey had watched it for a moment and then yawned and gone to sleep again.

Bitey looked back at the creature with the thick fur and long, sleek muzzle. With the huge ears and long tail and bright, gleaming eye. She was unique in Brackenwood. She was vicious, but she was tender as well. A killer but a mother too.

Steffany felt a wind suddenly whip through the trees. It wasn’t the ambient music she was used to either, this wind, was screaming. It whipped back the she-wolf’s ears and tugged and pulled at her fur. The wolf growled fearfully but she pressed on after Bitey, squinting her eyes against the growing gale. The wind grew stronger and the she-wolf crouched closer to the ground, digging in her claws. The sky grew dark like a thunder cloud and the she-wolf felt the pressure of the storm building, soon to break.

Suddenly she heard a familiar vibrating sound, faint in the wind, but it was there and nearby. The she-wolf could hear the fearful note in it. The she-wolf pealed off and began nosing in the grass. Eventually her muzzle hit a sloshing bag, like water in a balloon. The familiar yellow water-balloon bird thing lifted it’s head and farted in fear, it’s eyes watered and it was shivering. The wolf whined and opened her mouth wide, closing her jaws gently around the yellow water bag she picked it up. Not one tooth scratching the smooth yellow skin.

Steffany picked up her fatsack-filled muzzle and the wind hit her in the face making her eyes water. She whined again, her guide had disappeared. The wolf dropped her nose again, half to try and stop the stinging and clear the tears from her eyes, and half to pick up the goat-man’s scent. She knew by instinct that she didn’t have a lot of time left and she picked up the pace, relying completely on her nose to lead her too safety.

Bitey barked into the wind, his new friend had fallen behind and now he couldn’t find her. A little way away stood a medium sized tree, it had a thick, squat trunk but the branches, from where they sprouted from the trunk, arced out and upward, forming a lattice like cage. Clasped in the woven branches was a perfectly spherical globe. It looked separate but was actually part of the tree. The only truly safe place from a musical storm.

The she-wolf ran after the goat-man’s trail and after a moment she heard a bark. Steffany’s ears went up and her tail rose and wagged happily. She sprang towards the goat creature and jumped at him.

Bitey saw the she-beast coming and let out a breath in relief. In it’s mouth it held. Fatsack. When the creature reached him it flung up it’s paws and wagged her tail. Bitey gestured for the creature to follow him as he wiggled beneath the globe tree’s roots and climbed up into the globe itself.

The she-wolf squeezed into the tree, keeping a firm hold on the yellow, bouncing water balloon. Finally she heaved herself up into the globe. The inside of the tree it wasn’t dark as the wolf had expected but it was lit by a soft, natural glow.

The world outside rumbled as the musical storm broke. Even though sound was strangely muted in the dome, the wolf could hear as the rain drummed on the wood above their heads and the wind screamed outside. After a rumble of thunder there was a flash of lightning. The globe was harshly lit up for a moment as the bright lightning shone through the vaguely translucent wood of the globe before the glare faded again.

Steffany lay down, the yellow creature between her forepaws, under her chin, it hid it’s head in the wolf’s fur and the she-wolf lowered her head, resting it on her paws. She growled uncomfortably, not entirely sure what was happening and not completely trusting a tree to keep them safe. It wasn’t until she heard a whimper that she lifted her head and looked over at the man-animal that had led her to this place. He was cowering, huddling in a little ball, hands over his ears, clearly terrified and shaking.

The she-wolf didn’t understand why Bitey hated musical storms so much, she didn’t know about the dreams he had about his parents and the fear the storms dredged up in him. But she saw and smelt the fear and felt suddenly like a mother with a couple of scared cubs. She picked up the fat little yellow creature and carried it over to the goat creature. There the she-wolf lay down again, replacing the fat yellow bird between her forepaws and then nuzzling at the strange furry one.

Bitey looked up at the hunter looking over him, it made that low whuffling sound and pawed his face. Bitey whimpered and buried his face in the creature’s thick fur pressing close to the warm stomach and feeling very young again. The animal licked his head and continued to make the soothing sounds.

The she-wolf watched over her two charges until they fell asleep, but even then she could not relax herself but stayed alert. It was a good job she did, as the musical storm roared outside, night fell and the globe was lit with only the faintest cast, the she-wolf heard a sound that she had only heard once before in her dreams, but instinctively knew came from an enemy.

Yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu yu-yu…

The wolf growled as faint little lights, flashing different colours began to appear. When they became clearer and refused to go the wolf jumped up, a full throated snarl rumbled from her and only then did the chant that the wolf knew was dangerous, fade.

Bitey was woken by the creature snarling at shadows, he looked at her questioningly but just then, she stopped the snarling and lay down again. She put one paw around Bitey’s neck and licked him, grooming his face with her rough tongue. Bitey pulled away and made a disgusted sound but he rested his head on her stomach again before drifting off once more.

Steffany’s eyes glowed in the darkness, daring the chanters to come back.
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medved
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a not ready for prime-time player
Awesome use of imagrey in this part.*pats head* And your forgiven becsause i didn't even notice them till you mentioned it. and if i knew before i still wouldn't have cared.
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Foster
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Really good. Again. You're probably getting tired of hearing it. ;)

One suggestion though, you should make a hard break, maybe with asterisks, ie:

* * *

Between the paragraphs from each character's point of view. That way, the reader knows when to start a new thought train, instead of figuring it out halfway through the following paragraph.
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Jdave
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Brackenwood Heavyweight
This is very good almost movie like in quality, like you said, it gave me the idea that I was almost watching it. I hope Mr Phillips takes notice of this because well it atleast deserves a look IMO, this is a great story. I would love to see this take on a face in flash, or maybe just pictures along with the story just to give it a bit more visualization.
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