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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Guest Rhapsody

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Guest Rhapsody

An excerpt from an unfinished story. In actucality, it is a scripted dream from one of the main characters. Don't laugh at me...this was written when I was a high school freshman. Some of it is quite bad. But tell me what you think.

 

 

 

        The hunt-cry of twoscore wolves pursued the terrified doe as she crashed through the underbrush. Her breaths came in heaving gasps as she searched for a place to hide. Fear flooded her mind, even as she spotted a thick tangle of bramble. As the doe plunged in, she remembered too late, ”My fawn’s in here.”

 

        She struggled to disengage herself and carry the chase elsewhere, anywhere, away from her fawn. Her wish proved in vain. Out of the corner of her eye, a red blur streaked. “No!” she screamed. The fawn, its flaming coat broken only by a black stripe running along its backbone, ignored her cries. He fled, taking the howling wolves with him. The doe watched helplessly, her troubled eyes fixed on the crooked blaze that streaked down her fawn’s brow.

 

        Suddenly, a shrill scream sounded from the sky. The doe winced and turned her head upward. In the sky, silhouetted against the blazing disk of the sun, soared a falcon, wings outspread and talons cocked. For a brief instant it grinned down on her, a perilous omen. Then it flew onward, a dark dot in the sky, its wings bringing darkness in its wake. As the onslaught of night advanced, the doe struggled out of the thorny thicket. Her ears pricked as the distant howling of the wolves changed. It wavered and deepened, then grew, ringing out bell-like into the night. It increased in volume and the doe knew they were coming around again.

 

        A blur of rusty red flashed into view. It was a fox, black tipping its bushy tail, ears, and legs. As it ran by, the doe noticed a blaze of white streaking down its muzzle. And then it was gone. The wolves came on, not wolves anymore. Though just as fleet, they streamed by in un-wolfish shades of tan and beige, chestnut and black, chocolate and cream and honey…an endless streaming flood, their bell-like baying blending with excitement.

 

        “Foxhounds,” said a voice in the doe’s head. Without knowing why, the doe broke into a gallop, running after the pack. She ran for an eternity, until her legs trembled beneath her. Still the belling hounds bayed in hot chase. Vaguely, the doe realized she was not running any longer; she was being carried along. There was an animal running underneath her. A red-coated beast, with a whipping black mane carried her, swift as the wind, its mane stinging her face. Hairless hands gripped that black mane, her hands.

 

        The girl riding the red horse gasped as her horse plunged toward a high graystone wall. Ahead, she saw other riders and horses jumping safely over the barrier, but took no courage. The raven-haired girl sawed back on the reins, yelling to stop her mare. Heedless, blood bay horse galloped on. Then a hawk’s scream, a reptilian hiss, a buzzing rattle hit the girl like a physical blow, a discordant note within a symphony of sound. The girl cringed, whimpering in fear.

 

        Then, they were flying. The horse launched herself into the air, intending to leap the wall. Up, up, higher..almost over. The mare screamed and twisted in pain while an ominous rattling filled the air. A crashing impact, a neigh of fear, a burning gash of pain, a rush of wind, raining blood……and all the while the buzzing rattle. Then a sharp snap of pain ripped a scream from her. Everything went dark.

 

 

 

A hostile buzzing and avian screams vied for attention. The girl opened her eyes and beheld a red-feathered hawk hovering near the ground, its talons outstretched and clawing at….something. She squinted, discerning a hissing pile of writhing coils, obscured by shadows.

 

        At last the hawk shrieked in triumph and descended, slashing with wicked talons until the coils lay still. The buzzing ceased abruptly. The hawk landed among the motionless coils and pecked at them, lifting its proud head and screaming victory to the skies.

 

        Overhead, the full moon hung blue and shining brightly, as if praising its night-hunter. It blazed a jewel-clear azure, streaked with faint tendrils of silver, like mist. Or crests. The crests of waves flowed on the sapphire surface and the girl lost herself within those waves. So blue, so deep…a creeping trail of crimson invaded the blue. Crimson, like blood. Blood stained the blue moon…..

 

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