How Bad?

“Is everything all right, My Liege?” Elaine asked.

Arcturus knelt beside his horse, tested its leg. “I felt Hengroen slip. There’s something wrong --”


Elaine dismounted smoothly and knelt beside him. She reached out and smoothed a hand over the joint. Hengroen whinnied and started, jerked away from her touch. “I think it’s just a sprain,” she said. “We can stop here for the night.”

Arcturus looked up at her. “A sprain? How bad?”

“Not so bad that Hengroen will have to be given mercy.” Elaine smiled at him gently. He was sixteen and barely a year into his reign; sometimes he looked like the child she’d met in the woods, muddy-faced and racing through the trees.

Arcturus rose up and caught Hengroen by the reins, steadied him. He patted Hengroen’s neck and murmured softly, soothing wordless sounds.

“Let’s rest here tonight,” he said to Elaine.

She nodded. She understood.

Owner, Jailer

“Does it have a name?” James asked.

“Finley,” Tobias said, and sprinkled a few flakes on the surface of the water.

Finley, all blazing blue and violet tail and fins, swam a swift flurry of a circle, trying to chase down his food.

James, sprawled across his bed with a copy of Waiting For Godot open on his lap, shook his head, amused. “Doesn’t it realize it should just wait till the food drops beneath the surface?”

Tobias closed the jar of fish food and sat back. “Finley’s a fish, not a genius. If it amuses him to swim like that, I won’t deny him the pleasure.”

“You’re such an accommodating owner,” James said, and then he turned back to his script, studying the lines, imagining tone and inflection and gestures.

Tobias peered in the bowl at Finley, and he knew he wasn’t an accommodating owner as much as jailer.

(150 words)

Isn't It?

“Is it a pet?” Ciaran asked.

Brenna cast him a dark look and continued walking through the trees. The massive raven perched on her shoulder cast him a similarly dark look and then tipped its head back, let out a caw. Brenna didn’t even flinch at the sound; Ciaran jumped. It made his skin crawl.

“Does it have a name?”

“Depends,” Brenna said.

“On what?”

“On what I need it to do.”

“Oh. What does it do?” Ciaran knew he wasn’t supposed to be out roaming the woods with a woman painted blue, but she’d rescued him, and he was...curious about it.

“On same days it is Thought, on other days Memory, on same days Death, on better days War.” Brenna reached up and stroked the bird’s crest; it preened and pressed its head into her touch.

Ciaran blinked. “That’s...a lot of names.”

Brenna smiled. “Isn’t it?”

Springtime Run

Wind whipped through Ariana's hair, invisible fingers tugging at the long blond strands, and her stomach seemed to drop through her feet as she briefly became airborne. She laughed with breathless joy at the speed and the freedom she felt. Long silky strands of black hair brushed her face and her body rocked rhythmically in time to the thundering of hooves.

Ariana released one hand from the reins to let her fingers rest against the surging muscles of her favorite stallion, Skychaser.

She pulled back gently on the reins and Skychaser immediately slowed down to a trot as they came to a wide, shallow stream. Ariana jumped down from the horses back and patted his neck as he bent to drink from the stream, laughed when he snorted and shook himself out.

Ariana breathed in deeply of the springtime breeze and wished life could always be this simple.

In Heaven

Steve couldn't stop crying as his father held him tightly. "It's alright son," his father murmured as he stroked his young son's head, "It's alright. Dash was an old dog. It was just his time to go."

"But Dad," Steve sniffled, "who's going to keep away the monsters from my room at night? Dash always slept right at the foot of my bed so that no monsters would dare to come in. Who's going to run with me, or play catch, or hunt for bunnies?" Steve's eyes filled up with tears again at the thought of his best friend in a hole in the backyard.

"I know it hurts son, but sometimes those that we love the most have to leave us so that we can grow and become stronger," his dad said as he wrapped Steve in a tight embrace.

"Dad?" Steve asked.

"Yes Steve?"

"Will I see Dash when I get to heaven?" Steve asked

"I know you will," his father said and hugged him again.

As Much of a Pet

“She doesn’t like you,” Keith said easily.

Gabriel drew his hand back from the rumpled orange tabby that was curled on the arm of Keith’s recliner. Keith was curled up with a blanket and a wireless controller, enjoying the mindless destructiveness of Assassin’s Creed.

“She might like me,” Gabriel offered. “She didn’t hiss at me or anything.”

“Doesn’t mean a thing,” Keith said, and shrugged, killed a guard.

“Actually,” Tobias said, “the fact that she didn’t hiss means she’s feral. If you’d actually gotten a hand on her, she’d have had your eyes.”

Gabriel winced and took a healthy step back. “I thought she was Keith’s new pet.”

“As much of a pet as a feral cat can be,” Tobias said.

(121 words)

Can I Keep It?

"He followed me home Sir," Joe said in response to his commanders questioning look. David had stopped Joe as he tried to walk quietly through the dining room and to his own room. He was holding a small ball of fluff and petting it gently with one finger.

Joe had tried to sneak it past his commander and into his room, hoping to keep the little creature a secret for a while. He held the kitten close to his chest, cupping it in both hands as if to protect it.

"Can I keep it Sir?" Joe asked in a small voice, his eyes large and pleading.

David stopped and carefully considered his answer before he gave it. He knew how hard their job was, how much it was important to having something to care about, something that cared about you. Cared unconditionally.

"Alright Joe," David said, "You can keep it."

Cafall

“What should I name him?” Christian asked.

Anna shrugged. “Him who?”

“My new hound,” Christian said. “Hunter didn’t survive his encounter with that boar.” He looked mournful, but Anna could see hints of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he held the brown pup.

Anna reached out and scratched the pup behind the ears; it wagged its tail and licked her hand. “How about...Cafall?”

Christian blinked, sounded it out. “Is that...Welsh?”

“Perhaps.”

“Why would you suggest that?”

“Cafall was the faithful hound of a mighty king,” Anna said. “Perhaps naming your dog after him will make him a better hunting companion.”

Christian hummed thoughtfully. “All right. Cafall it is.” He scooped up the pup and headed toward the kennels, calling for the lead houndsman.

Anna smiled and watched him, remembered the original Cafall, bounding at his master’s heels. Christian’s dog would be fine.

(149 words)

Project Assignment # 68 - Pets

If you characters were to have pets what would they be? what would be their reasoning? Do they even have a reason?

This week let's go for fun in 150 words

Overview #67: Mythology Remix

This was short and sweet. Like so many in the western world, my best sense of mythology is Greco-Roman mythology, so I had to fight hard to pick mythologies from other traditions. It was fun to see how things could be remixed and rewrote. The cheap thing about having such a limited wordcount is that I didn't have to play out the consequences of a remix, especially when I hit up epics like the Iliad and the Odyssey. I had fun researching other mythologies, though, so that was good times.

Of course, where there is mythology and me, there is a nod to Arthurian legends. I'm just sad I didn't think to try for anything Norse.

Defeated

"I will avenge you, my brother in arms," Owain vowed solemnly, slicing open the palm of his hand to let his blood drip on Cynon's grave, "I will bring you justice; your soul peace. I will find the Black Knight and kill him," he whispered.

......

Sir Owain staggered back from the Black Knight, a sword through his chest, his breathing wet and labored as he struggled to rise from where he had fallen.

"No," he whispered, "it's not supposed to end this way," Owain said.

"No one defeats the Black Knight," the Knight declared as he delivered the final blow.

Sun and Moon

“Well, this is a fine mess,” Amaterasu said. She perched on the edge of a cloud and stared down at the mortals who were blearily going about their day, dragging their feet.

“They haven’t been sleeping,” Tsukiyomi said. He balanced a silver globe on one palm, spun it idly. “They’re not very good at sleeping when it’s so bright outside.”

Amaterasu tossed her head, and golden rays shimmered on the ground. “I can’t change who I am.”

“Neither can I,” Tsukiyomi said.

“What are we going to do? We can’t go through eternity never seeing each other.”

“Indeed.” Tsukiyomi sighed.