bossyjellyfish
Foxes Mate for Life
Well, this is my story, I'll post about 2-3 now, enjoy.
A young man, the age of 17, walked through a dusty, old village.
The boy was wearing a black, tattered sweatshirt with baggy blue jeans.
He had bushy, messy, black hair, his bangs just about covering his eyes.
His hands were in his pockets, and made contact with no one.
He wasn't a local, just passing through.
The day was cloudy, the usual weather in this region.
The clouds were looming in the sky, but it wouldn't rain.
The boy's skin was pale, with many cuts on his face.
The villagers knew to stay away.
He stepped into an old tavern, with only two other residents inside.
He quietly made his way to the bartender.
"Sir, I'd like to know if you have seen any other other visitors passing through this village." the boy asked.
"Heh, as a matter o' fact, I have. Maybe for some money my mouth might slip." said the bartender.
"I don't think you understand." said the boy.
In a blur he was behind the bartender, with a small dagger against the man's neck.
"Ok, ok! I'll tell! There were a few shady figures passing through last night!" confessed the man.
"Thank you." replied the boy, and with one quick twist, he broke the man's neck.
The bartender fell quick, and lay still.
The boy walked out of the tavern, and made his way out of the village, as if he hadn't just killed a man.
~~
The boy walked through the gate and out of the village.
He looked back and saw a sign that said "Borvak", the name of the village.
The sign was hard to read, due to years of dirt and bad weather, but because of the boy's sharpness of vision, it was clear to him.
He continued onward, and came to a forest.
He continued to follow the dirt path and into the forest.
It was hard to call it a forest, considering that most of the trees were leafless and dead.
The sun was beginning to set, and dusk was near.
The boy stopped. He sniffed the air. He looked over his shoulders, and continued on.
He exhaled, and saw his breath.
When night came, so did the cold.
Suddenly, there was a whistling sound in the air.
It wasn't the wind.
A crossbow bolt had made it's mark in a tree next to the boy.
When it made contact, splinters and bark from the tree flew everywhere.
the boy had dived forward, and executed a roll. He turned around, crouching and looked at his attacker.
His eyes narrowed.
"I've got you Anima." said the attacker.
A young man, the age of 17, walked through a dusty, old village.
The boy was wearing a black, tattered sweatshirt with baggy blue jeans.
He had bushy, messy, black hair, his bangs just about covering his eyes.
His hands were in his pockets, and made contact with no one.
He wasn't a local, just passing through.
The day was cloudy, the usual weather in this region.
The clouds were looming in the sky, but it wouldn't rain.
The boy's skin was pale, with many cuts on his face.
The villagers knew to stay away.
He stepped into an old tavern, with only two other residents inside.
He quietly made his way to the bartender.
"Sir, I'd like to know if you have seen any other other visitors passing through this village." the boy asked.
"Heh, as a matter o' fact, I have. Maybe for some money my mouth might slip." said the bartender.
"I don't think you understand." said the boy.
In a blur he was behind the bartender, with a small dagger against the man's neck.
"Ok, ok! I'll tell! There were a few shady figures passing through last night!" confessed the man.
"Thank you." replied the boy, and with one quick twist, he broke the man's neck.
The bartender fell quick, and lay still.
The boy walked out of the tavern, and made his way out of the village, as if he hadn't just killed a man.
~~
The boy walked through the gate and out of the village.
He looked back and saw a sign that said "Borvak", the name of the village.
The sign was hard to read, due to years of dirt and bad weather, but because of the boy's sharpness of vision, it was clear to him.
He continued onward, and came to a forest.
He continued to follow the dirt path and into the forest.
It was hard to call it a forest, considering that most of the trees were leafless and dead.
The sun was beginning to set, and dusk was near.
The boy stopped. He sniffed the air. He looked over his shoulders, and continued on.
He exhaled, and saw his breath.
When night came, so did the cold.
Suddenly, there was a whistling sound in the air.
It wasn't the wind.
A crossbow bolt had made it's mark in a tree next to the boy.
When it made contact, splinters and bark from the tree flew everywhere.
the boy had dived forward, and executed a roll. He turned around, crouching and looked at his attacker.
His eyes narrowed.
"I've got you Anima." said the attacker.
