- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, Scifi and related material.
Your Barn Door Is Open...
It was a dark and stormy night....... *
Even the worst fiction couldn't describe how dark, how stormy. How wet, cold and miserable the weather was this night. Thunder. Lightning! Wind, how it howled! Made trees moan. Rain pounding! Mud, slick underfoot!
Not a fit night out for man nor beast.......*
A most excellent assessment, yes indeed. And Peet... not man, not even beast, technically speaking. This night's storm, so bad, even a teenaged Nism couldn't wait to get out of it. But that didn't seem likely. Fur soaked through to his skin... soaked to the bone, chilled right down to his na... well, suffice it to say, he felt miserable. Shroudruff feathers frazzled by the wind and wet, scales mud-crusted. No, not crusted so much as 'spackled' with a trowel. Then one of those slick mud-patches! Schlork! Fur, feathers, scales... mud everywhere. Yes, even there. He tried to shake himself, to fling off mud and water, but rather pointless. He had to find shelter, somewhere! But all the lightning flashes, thunder and general disorientation totally messed up his biosenses. He couldn't have picked up a chi pattern if it.......
....... THUMP!.......
....... bashed him in the face. Ow. Rubbing his abused snout only smeared mud over his four nostrils. Not a pleasant sensation. A snort blew enough mud away so he could breathe, though breathing in this storm felt more like drowning. A lightning flash revealed he'd literally collided with a barn. An old barn. Peet couldn't really smell anything in this weather, either. Just the scent of water. And mud. And wet Nism. Not anything else. A few more lightning flashes, he found the door, managed to get inside as thunder rumbled. Found...
... pounding rain had dealt with most of the mud, a thorough shake mostly taking care of his wet condition. Not perfect, but at least the barn didn't leak. Didn't appear to have any old or any fresh cow-pies lying about. Didn't look like it had been recently used, either. As if whoever owned the barn had kept up the barn, but could no longer afford to stock it with livestock. At least for now. And also for now, perfect for a lone, damp, cold Nism teenager. Who hadn't had a very good night, so far... Yaaaaawwwwwn! Tired... sooo tired. No watch. No idea what time it was. Felt like the storm had been kicking him about for hours. No idea when the storm would end. Didn't really care if anybody found him sleeping here. So, clean stall, clean hay, curl up, lights out.......*
So tired and beaten, he'd left the barn door open. Not by much... enough to let a rat squeeze through, buuuut also not enough to keep out.......*
-------
It was a dark and stormy night....... *
Even the worst fiction couldn't describe how dark, how stormy. How wet, cold and miserable the weather was this night. Thunder. Lightning! Wind, how it howled! Made trees moan. Rain pounding! Mud, slick underfoot!
Not a fit night out for man nor beast.......*
A most excellent assessment, yes indeed. And Peet... not man, not even beast, technically speaking. This night's storm, so bad, even a teenaged Nism couldn't wait to get out of it. But that didn't seem likely. Fur soaked through to his skin... soaked to the bone, chilled right down to his na... well, suffice it to say, he felt miserable. Shroudruff feathers frazzled by the wind and wet, scales mud-crusted. No, not crusted so much as 'spackled' with a trowel. Then one of those slick mud-patches! Schlork! Fur, feathers, scales... mud everywhere. Yes, even there. He tried to shake himself, to fling off mud and water, but rather pointless. He had to find shelter, somewhere! But all the lightning flashes, thunder and general disorientation totally messed up his biosenses. He couldn't have picked up a chi pattern if it.......
....... THUMP!.......
....... bashed him in the face. Ow. Rubbing his abused snout only smeared mud over his four nostrils. Not a pleasant sensation. A snort blew enough mud away so he could breathe, though breathing in this storm felt more like drowning. A lightning flash revealed he'd literally collided with a barn. An old barn. Peet couldn't really smell anything in this weather, either. Just the scent of water. And mud. And wet Nism. Not anything else. A few more lightning flashes, he found the door, managed to get inside as thunder rumbled. Found...
... pounding rain had dealt with most of the mud, a thorough shake mostly taking care of his wet condition. Not perfect, but at least the barn didn't leak. Didn't appear to have any old or any fresh cow-pies lying about. Didn't look like it had been recently used, either. As if whoever owned the barn had kept up the barn, but could no longer afford to stock it with livestock. At least for now. And also for now, perfect for a lone, damp, cold Nism teenager. Who hadn't had a very good night, so far... Yaaaaawwwwwn! Tired... sooo tired. No watch. No idea what time it was. Felt like the storm had been kicking him about for hours. No idea when the storm would end. Didn't really care if anybody found him sleeping here. So, clean stall, clean hay, curl up, lights out.......*
So tired and beaten, he'd left the barn door open. Not by much... enough to let a rat squeeze through, buuuut also not enough to keep out.......*
-------
Last edited: